A Matter Of Delicacy

The Ball

     I had never really enjoyed balls. In my experience they rarely lived up to expectation and all the fuss beforehand as young women squealed and argued about their dresses and hair and the eligible young bachelors was never worth it. I found them dull and stuffy, mainly full of insufferable husband-hunters and boring rich men with no idea how to actually talk to a woman. As a result, I saw far too many girls gritting their teeth and nodding politely, desperately trying to attract while pretending this possible courtship wasn't going to be the dullest affair of their lives.
     I myself generally spent those evenings with my eyes fixed on my charge, hand pressed tight against the discreet slit in my dress where my dagger or smallsword rested, and vetting anyone who came close. Back in Somerset we didn't have a large community, so balls were rare and the only ones I went to were generally attended or hosted by the person I was guarding. As such I was legally required not to have any fun, and not to get myself noticed.
     And tonight was no different, I pulled back to the salmon-pink walls, hiding behind a sheer curtain to watch. The party continued around me, people laughing and dancing and smiling. I had never seen so many candles and sparkling jewels in one place, each flame radiated over mirrors and flashed over glittering necklaces. There were enough jewels in this ballroom to sink a small ship, even some of the men had jewelled belts and long dangling earrings with dropped pearls and rubies. Princess Caroline was known for her wild balls and this one certainly lived up to expectations, I saw a dwarf in scarlet velvet entertaining a lady with a monkey on his shoulder, and a man with dark skin showing extravagant card tricks to a group of transfixed gentlemen. The crystal punch bowl on the buffet table was full of thick dark chocolate that people were dipping biscuits and slices of fruit into, careful not to drip any on their finery. Across the room I saw acrobats in striped pink and black, a small tame bear with a gold collar attached to a leash and a man on stilts casting handfuls of pink petals with every step of his long wooden legs. I stared around as many people as I could. When the old man with the fushia jacket snuck a biscuit off his wife's plate, I knew. When a young woman spat a squishy grape into a flowerpot, I saw. When a young man tripped over a woman's train, leaving a muddy patch on the fabric, I laughed. It was heartening, strangely, to see these people, these Earls and Dukes and rich children who would rule the world, act in the same bizarre and normal ways that many of us low-borns did.
     Sarah spotted me in my hiding place and brought over some food subtly hidden behind the sweeping shawl she had draped over her arms. I had barely been able to talk to my new friend over the last few days as she helped the Princess set up for the ball and managed the other younger ladies in their preparations. All I had seen of her was a brief exhausted smile as she jotted the Princess's every desire down on a notepad.
     It had paid off, of course. The ball and everyone here looked lovely. Sarah was wearing a pale pink satin gown with gentle ruffles at the neckline and a delicate pearl necklace and drop earrings. Her shawl was a sheer gold fabric, beautifully bordered with darker design and matching the shades in her hair. I had seen more than a few young men giving her the eye as she followed the Princess loyally around the room.
     Now she slumped on the window chair next to me and started picking at the plate of food. There were a few little pastries dusted with sugar and she sank her teeth into one eagerly.
     'Getting tired?' I asked, glancing between her and where Princess Caroline was shrieking at an old Duke.
     'I'm exhausted, and the dancing hasn't even started! I shall be sobbing in the corner by the end of the evening.' Sarah passed me a pastry. 'You look lovely by the way, who did your hair?'
     'I did. Learn one and deploy it at every occasion.' I didn't tell her how long it had taken me to get the delicate twists pinned just right to make it look pretty but not eye catching. The wisps of my dark hair curled naturally so managed to stay in hold well. My dress had been another last-minute disaster, Mr Authurs the tailor had yet to deliver on my new wardrobe so I had borrowed another dress from the Countess of Exeter. It was a beautiful dark blue dress with black ribbon lining and a sweeping train. My favourite part was the hidden slit at the side, officially for greater ease in dancing, but helpfully allowed me to free my smallsword in only a few moments.
     'Well it looks fabulous.' Sarah sighed and leant back, chewing gently on a grape. 'The party seems to be going well.'
     'Is it always this loud? I've never been to one anything near as busy as this one.'
     'Not even in Napoleon's court? I heard he had balls for half of France.'
     'Yes but my charge was never invited. He was suspected remember?' I took another pastry and bit into it, bending over the napkin Sarah had placed in my lap so the warm strawberry sauce didn't ruin my dress.
     'Oh yes, the expatriate.' Sarah smiled. 'You have so many adventures Kate, it does make me jealous. You're off galivanting around Europe saving innocent lives and I'm here watching to make sure my husband doesn't make a fool of us both by dribbling wine down his front - are you alright?'
     I was in the midst of choking on the pastry. 'Your husband?!' I spluttered.
     'Yes. Didn't you know? Oh gracious. Well, yes. Lord Lynton is the Duke of Devonshire and a close friend of the Prince Regent.'
     'You're a duchess?'
     She nodded and pointed through the crowd to the lines of seats where the older guests sat to catch their breath. 'See? He's the one with the blue coat and red cravat. With the handkerchief?'       The man she was pointing to was at least sixty, dwarfing her age of just twenty-two. He had a weak and puffy face with a fat neck and a pot belly that he used to tap out the beat of the music with a swollen and ring-encrusted finger.
     'Oh,' I said, shocked and suddenly unsure of what to say. Did I congratulate her? My friend was married to a powerful man and was a duchess to boot, but the expression on her face when she looked that him did not look like the blushing bride I had expected.
     'You know we've been married for five years? Seems like a long time but I've spent barely any time with him,' she said, as if my silence hadn't affected her at all. 'It's not so bad, marriage. You get used to it. Lynton is very generous and kind in his own way, though a little absent minded.'           She turned to me and smiled a tight smile, her lips pressing together. 'It's a very good match and besides, I'm here most of the time and the Prince Regent likes to keep him there, so I suppose I'm very lucky.'
     'I didn't know,' I said softly. My heart was beating fast suddenly as I watched my friend resent her husband quietly from afar. I could see why, he was old enough to be her father and was hardly gorgeous. I watched him bark at one of the servants for a glass of port which he gulped down and belched loudly. Sarah exhaled resolutely and stood to her feet, holding out a hand.
     'Right, come on. You can't sit here for the rest of the evening. We're going to dance.'
     'What?' I stared at her. I couldn't dance. Or at least, I shouldn't. I needed to sit here and watch and make sure the Princess was alright and the hilt of my smallsword was digging into my thigh to prove it. I couldn't just shirk my obligation to stand awkwardly and wait for a young man to ask me for a quick dance where neither of us would talk and both would wish it over.
     'Yes. Dance. Please? I'm so tired and bored and I want to see you dance. I want us both to dance and to forget about our duty. Come on.' Sarah grabbed my hand and pulled me out from behind the curtain.
     'I shouldn't Sarah. I need to watch the Princess.'
     'The Princess will be fine. In fact, she will be more than fine; she's dying to get you out into society, so this is the perfect excuse.' She ignored my protestations and dragged me out of the alcove and towards the Princess with her gaggle of admirers. A pair of young women gave me a confused look as I was pulled along. The Princess was in her element, dressed in a lurid orange silk gown with a mountain of feathers in her hair and jewels dripping from her throat. She was surrounded by men of all ages who simpered over her as she patted their faces and poked their stomachs playfully. I raised an eyebrow; I had always known the Princess had a bit of a reputation and her husband the Prince was not here to stop her fawning over other men but her behaviour still shocked me. Wouldn't a woman who was being investigated for adultery be a little more subtle in her actions? Apparently not.
     'Your Highness?' Sarah broke in and smiled warmly at the older woman. 'I found her.'
     'Ah Miss Wentworth!' Princess Caroline beamed at me over the jacket of a young man she was using to 'protect herself' from another. 'There you are, I was asking after you.'
     'I'm sorry your Highness, I didn't know. How can I help?'
     'How can you help?' She let out a shrill laugh. 'No my dear I don't need any help, I am perfect the way I am. No, it's how can I help you. I have made you my protégé my dear and tonight is the night I will let you loose on society. And only the best of society as well.' She giggled up at the man beside her.
     My face remained in a kind of frozen smile, slightly pained. I didn't think I really wanted to be the protégé of this woman, or be a part of whatever that entailed. All I wanted was to sit behind my curtain and watch. But from the determined look in the Princess's eye and Sarah's bright smile it seemed I had little choice.
     'Where is he? Where did he go?' The Princess looked around. 'I have just the man in mind for you Miss Wentworth, I've been plotting your meet all night. You'll dance with him a couple of times and then I'm envisioning a marriage sometime next June.' She stopped at my aghast expression, 'Oh my dear I'm only teasing! Of course you don't have to marry him if you think he's really awful. But I doubt you could anyway, he's quite charming and very handsome, wouldn't you say so Sarah?'
     'Yes, very handsome.' Sarah took my hand subtly and squeezed it. 'He's not that bad,' she whispered to me as we waited for that this mystery man to return.
     My stomach had dropped into my silk slippers by this point, and I was dreading whatever would happen next. I had seen Sarah's apparent taste in men, and even worse I had seen the Princess's, and neither gave me very much cause for hope. I would be pushed together with a fat old man with bad breath and a constant sniffle for the rest of the evening, and then subjected to torturous questions and teasing from the women at Montagu House.
     'Willoughby! Willoughby, come here!' Princess Caroline shouted over my head and waved. I clasped Sarah's hand tighter. Perhaps he wouldn't have bad breath or clammy hands. I could survive two dances if he was ugly but only if he didn't have clammy hands. Please, that was all I asked for. I suddenly bitterly regretted leaving my gloves in the alcove where I so wanted to be right now.
     'Willoughby, this is Miss Wentworth, I want you to dance with her.' The Princess had brought her voice back down to relatively normal pitch, meaning that the face of my doom was near.
I breathed in deeply and turned to face him, my thoughts echoing round my head, please don't be awful please don't be awful please don't be awful.
     My heart dropped to my feet.
     Standing before me was possibly the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.