As the carriage turned a corner into the long driveway, the house came into view. It was a lovely prospect, pale against the blue afternoon sky. The pillars at the front framed the elegant sandstone steps. The house looked out over vast grounds with a lake in the distance. Clarissa’s heart clenched as she wondered how many people Lady Eleanor had invited to the house for an extended visit.
As the carriage came to a halt at the manor's entrance, Clarissa glanced at her mother. Bernadette Crompton was a picture of grace and decorum, yet as their eyes connected, Clarissa detected an unpleasant gleam in her mother’s eyes. She knew that look well—it was a solemn warning.
Be on your best behaviour; do not disgrace us.
She clenched her jaw, even as her hands trembled. She would not be the source of yet more scandal for her parents—she refused to be. Her mother’s lack of faith in her was a sharp, familiar sting.
“Smooth your gown, Clarissa. Chin up, head held high,” Lady Crompton stated as the carriage door opened, and they all descended into the hubbub of the manor steps.
A few other carriages had arrived before them, and Clarissa could smell the sweat of the horses as they moved off. An elegant older woman and her husband were ascending the steps. Clarissa did not recognize them from the backs of their heads, and she felt a spiralling panic shudder down her spine as she feared she might have forgotten every name in society after so long an absence.
She took a deep breath, giving Emily a watery smile as her cousin bounced on the balls of her feet beside her, straining to see inside the house. It was her first ball, and Clarissa could not help but feel intense affection for the time she had spent selecting the gowns she had brought with her. Emily favoured autumnal colours, which suited the season beautifully, and she had gold and green bows in her hair.
“Try not to lean around me so heavily. It is not polite,” she said quickly as her cousin practically bent herself in half to see inside the house.
Emily recoiled immediately and stood upright again, looking guilty.
“You appear quite charming, indeed.” Clarissa added so as not to admonish her too harshly, and Emily’s little frown disappeared as she smiled demurely in response.
“There are so many people,” Emily said in amazement as they made their way inside behind Lord and Lady Crompton.
“Yes, well, this is her Christmas ball,” Clarissa replied. She stepped back to let a servant scurry past. “It will be spectacular. Try not to expect it at every event you attend, however. They will not all be as grand as this one.”
“I simply hope I can attend another,” Emily said quietly. Clarissa gave her an encouraging smile as they began to walkslowly up the steps behind the other guests.
“I would charge you to see if you can count the candles,” Clarissa added. “Lady Eleanor has a reputation for her beautiful displays. Such a variety of colours, you will be amazed.”
Emily’s eyes lit up at the prospect.
Smoothing her hands over her dress for a final time, Clarissa tried hard not to look as terrified as she felt. She glanced about her furtively, catching a few glances from some of the other guests and feeling a tightness in her chest.
Yet there was excitement, too. It had been an age since she had been to a ball, an activity she had always adored. For the first time in a very long while, she felt excitement bubbling deep within her.
Could this be our way back from the edges of society? Could we dare hope to recover our past lives here?
“Miss Crompton!”
Clarissa looked up and felt her cheeks ache with the smile that spread over her features. Standing on the steps before her was Lady Rosemary Bolton, a face she had not seen for many years.
Lord and Lady Crompton were greeting Lady Eleanor, who looked elegantly regal in a silver gown that shimmered in the pale sunlight. Clarissa hastily stepped forward and embraced her friend.
As Rosemary’s arms went around her, Clarissa had to hold back tears. She had not been embraced by a friend for many months.
She leaned back to see Rosemary’s eyes shining with happiness.
“I am so pleased you have come,” she said earnestly. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
Clarissa’s cheeks flamed at the praise, and she chuckled gently as Rosemary stepped back.
“It is wonderful to see you, Lady Bolton. Thank you.”
Rosemary’s presence had settled the wildest nerves fluttering in Clarissa’s gut, and she smiled broadly at her friend.
Beside her, Lord Crompton’s eyes were scanning the crowds warily. As Clarissa introduced Emily to Lady Eleanor, she noticed two women ascending the stairs behind her.
The lady on the right was occupied in examining the snow and making some remarks about how cold it was. The other, however, was looking at her parents with a sharpness in her features that Clarissa knew well.
It was subtle, but the lady leaned over to her friend and said something quickly in a whisper. Clarissa watched the other woman’s eyes widen and then run her gaze over Lady Crompton in an assessing way. Finally, her eyes alighted on Clarissa. As soon as she was caught looking, she affected an air of disinterest and Clarissa looked away.
