An orchestra was already playing at the far end of the room but, as yet, no one was dancing. Tables and chairs were strategically placed along the walls, so the guests would have places to sit and visit when not dancing.
Jenny leaned in and asked Helena, “Are we to sup at these tables?”
“No. We will be called to the dining room at supper time. It will be quite a feast, I promise you. However, without your delightful delicacies.”
“What do we do now?” Jenny asked.
“We find ourselves a table for the evening and then we greet the hosts and hopefully begin to get our dance cards filled. The dances usually start within half an hour of everyone’s arrival.”
George led the way to where Thomas and his Grandmother were welcoming the guests. Jenny could not help but notice that his Grace was—without a doubt—the handsomest gentleman in the room. He was dressed in a black tailcoat with black breeches and stockings but with a deep maroon waistcoat, and a gold watch chain. However, Jenny noticed that, while he was being pleasant to his guests, he did not look all that happy.
The first to greet them was Grandmother Augusta. “Mr. Edgerton, Miss Comerford, welcome to Pemberton. I hope you have an enjoyable evening.” Then she noticed Jenny. “Oh, I do not believe I have had the honor, Miss…?”
Thomas turned to his Grandmamma and said, “This is Miss Jenny Barnett. She is a friend of mine.”
Grandmother looked puzzled. This young lady was not on her guest list and she knew nothing about her background. “Oh, Miss Barnett… welcome.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mowbray… Your Grace,” she answered, with her eyes lowered feeling shy.
Just as they were about to move on, Thomas said quietly to Jenny, “I am so happy you could attend the ball.”
She smiled as she answered, “I was surprised, but pleased to be invited. Thank you, Your Grace.”
He nodded and then turned to the next approaching guests in the reception line.
George was already marking in the dances he wanted with Helena, and several other gentlemen were standing by ready to add their names.
“Might I have a dance, young Miss?” someone said to Jenny. She turned to see a charming-looking young gentleman standing behind her. She handed him her dance card with the attached pencil and he wrote his name, and handed it back to her, saying, “Ralph Newton, Miss…?”
“Miss Jenny Barnett,” she answered shyly, marveling at the social swirl going on around her. All so new. All so strange.
As the young man left, Jenny happened to look the Duke’s way. He caught her eye and smiled.
Jenny was surprised to have a number of other gentlemen approach and ask for dances. Her card was surprisingly almost half full by the time George, Helena, and she reached their table and sat themselves down.
Within a few moments, the music from the orchestra stopped, and the conductor announced, “My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, the dancing will now start. And our first dance will be a Bouche à Bouche.” He then turned back to the orchestra and the dance began—with the floor filling up quickly. Jenny consulted her card and saw she did not have anyone penciled in for the first dance.
The reception line had disappeared, and Jenny saw Thomas lead his grandmother to her table. She was surprised when he then turned toward her and began to come over to their table.
“Miss Jenny, if you still have any free dances, might I add my name?”
She handed him her card. He penciled in several dances and returned the card to her.
“Miss Jenny.” He nodded and moved on.
She looked at the card and he had reserved three dances with her, much to her surprise.
“Oh, Georgie, this is one of our dances. Shall we?” Helena asked as they stood and joined the other dancers, leaving Jenny alone.
* * *
Thomas stood by his Grandmamma’s side while she was seated at their table. She looked up and said, “Thomas, you are missing your first dance. Lady Abigail Hawthorn is waiting for you.”
“Oh, very well,” Thomas grumbled.
“She is the eldest daughter of the Mayfair Hawthorns—with thirty-eight thousand.”
Thomas already knew the young lady in question from his earlier carefree trips to London. He happened to know she had already passed the age of thirty but was still boasting she was seven and twenty. She had a rather hacking laugh and her prime interests were whist and painting china teacups. He had crossed her off his list so long ago, and at that time, she was indeed still seven and twenty.
