Like No Other

Chapter 5: At Lady Ashton's Ball

                                     

             Lady Ashton’s ball proved to be a lavish affair, with over eight hundred guests swarming on her glittery ballroom and a legion of servants rushing to and fro, it was indeed a remarkable night of revelry. There was even the speculation that the King George himself might as well make an appearance to which had induced brighter prospects among the members of the ton that were present tonight.

             But then, speculations were mere speculations, and those who had wager that His Majesty would, in all certainty, honor this ball with his presence were fated to be vastly disappointed and their purses be reduced.

              This was why Lord Robert March prompted a derisive snort upon hearing such asinine way his fellow Englishmen’s brains worked and only remarked, “King George, my foot. I bet my whole fortune that he’s presently occupied between the sheets with his new mistress, if not the state affairs.”

                 Lord Stokeford, who was ever nonchalant about London and its daily dose of trivialities, just grunted an incomprehensible sound, a wise course of action when one lacked a constructive reply. His entire attention caught however when he felt a soft poke on his right rib that made him turned his head sharply to the side. What he saw were big green eyes smiling up at him.

                It was Caroline.

“Good evening, my lord.”

“Has someone ever taught you how to greet properly?” Stefan asked dryly.

Much to his annoyance, Caroline had already marched in front of Robert and greeted him with perfect curtsy, to which Robert returned in most amiable manner and with a graceful bow afterwards.

He stared at her in disbelief.  The fact that she had poked him—poked him!—and did not even bother to make a curtsy, when Robert had otherwise received a proper greeting, had somehow added to the injury. Not that he was a prig and a good minion to the dictates of propriety, but dash it all, he was an Earl and he deserved at least a proper courtesy!

“Good evening, my lord,” a soft voice called from behind him.

He swung his head and saw the golden figure of Miss Sophie Winscott, breathtakingly beautiful in her silver gown. The resentment he felt just now fled in a trice.

                “Miss Winscott,” Stefan bowed gracefully. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

                “The feeling, I assure you, is mutual,” she replied.

                An angelic smile lit her features, the kind which made him staggered backward and that something had sucked the air from his lungs. Stefan had never felt this before, and although he wasn’t given to that flurry of emotions most poets spouting about on their pieces, at the very least he could admit that this was a pure attraction. Miss Winscott was the epitome of perfection, a jewel amidst the coarse stones.

                “Miss Winscott!” Robert interjected, turning towards them. “How lovely to see you again!”

                Sophie smiled at him and murmured her greeting, then asked, “Have you seen my cousin?”

                “She went to the refreshment table. Ah, there she is,” he stared ahead to see Caroline having her way through the crowd and walking towards them, a glass of lemonade in hand.

                Just then, the music had started and Robert had asked Sophie to dance, leaving Stefan alone with Caroline, who appeared to enjoy her refreshment immensely while gazing at the swirling couples on the dance floor.