Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I look at Frederick with my mouth agape and my forehead wrinkled heavily as he remains with his attention on the ballroom, where people dance and talk and laugh. ‘We can’t have that, now, can we?’ I say.
‘We cannot.’
That is all well and good, I think, but I am afraid the brewing panic attack that has caught me by surprise cannot wait. I am suffocating. ‘Will you catch me if I fall, Frederick?’ I ask him.
‘What?’
‘I fear I am about to faint, so I will ask you again and hope for a swift response so I may get on with things. If I faint, will you catch me and save me the embarrassment?’
Frederick, the poor thing, looks quite alarmed. ‘I… um…’ he stutters and stammers as he looks around.
‘It is not a hard question, Frederick, and the answer is yes, you would, indeed, catch me, because it would pain you to see me injured if I fall head first to the floor.’
‘Of course,’ he murmurs as his body solidifies, bracing for my imminent collapse. ‘Or perhaps I should fetch Mrs Melrose, who, I have noted quietly on several occasions, is rather tall and has good shoulders.’
‘Oh, for the love of God, Frederick, I must get out of here,’ I say, pushing past him and taking the stairs down to the ballroom, passing my oblivious mother, who is now chuckling with Lady Blythe.
I exit the ballroom, and make it to the entrance only to find it is guarded by two of the patronesses, one of them being Lady Tillsbury, and, I think to myself, how unfortunate that is, for I should like to question her about who requested a voucher be issued in my name. But first I must get that air. ‘I’m afraid,’ I say, somewhat breathless, ‘I must step outside and find some air.’
The other lady, a rather plump woman with rosy cheeks and an unfathomably large nose, doesn’t take too kindly to my request, that bulbous nose of hers lifting in quite an unfriendly way so she is, ironically, looking down her nose at me. ‘You are out of luck,’ she says, short and snappy. ‘The doors are closed, and I may not permit you entry should you leave.’
I do not wish to re-join the dreaded party, so her supposed problem is not such a problem, however, I am, for all my faults, a realist, and I realise I cannot place myself alone on the street, neither can I place undue worry upon my mother. This is a far from ideal situation that I know not how to deal with. ‘I see,’ I say, finding myself swallowing continuously, each one uncomfortably lumpy. ‘Then what do you suppose I––’
‘I will tend to Miss Melrose,’ a quiet voice says, and Lady Tillsbury joins us, her smile soft as she regards me with soft eyes too, for everything about the Baroness of Shrewsbury is, as I have come to learn rather quickly from my observations, soft.
‘Be that as it may,’ the plump lady says, ‘the rules are––’
‘Thank you, Lady Weatherby.’ Lady Tillsbury’s smile makes quite a remarkable transition from soft to cutting, and Lady Weatherby is unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of it, something she seems to be quite regretful of if her plump form shrinking is a measure. She nods and departs, and Lady Tillsbury inhales and reinstates that softness. ‘Perhaps some water would solve this little problem of yours,’ she says, taking my arm and walking me to the edge of the hallway. ‘Or a waft of my fan, maybe.’ She produces a rather spectacular silk fan and flaps it out, holding it over her shockingly coy smile. ‘I suppose that is what it is for, after all.’ Her eyebrows lift just enough to tell me that Lady Tillsbury favours a fan for other reasons, and cooling off at these stifling events is not one of those reasons. Oh my.
‘Men have the sword,’ I say, reciting a line I once read that has stuck with me for ever more, for it raised my eyebrow when I read the piece, ‘women have the fan, and the fan is probably as effective a weapon.’
Lady Tillsbury chuckles, and that is soft too. What a desirable lady she is, and one, I expect, to be respected, not only for her rank, but perhaps for her wisdom too. ‘I fear,’ she says quietly so as not to be heard, as she loops arms with me and comes closer, ‘that you’re a young woman with dangerous intentions.’
‘I have no intentions, least of all dangerous ones,’ I assure her, fairly confused by her rather bold statement, but somewhat worried too. What does she know of my intentions?
‘You can be as promiscuous as you please, sweet Eliza, but, and I speak from experience, you must know, you should maintain a certain level of compliance.’