Eloisa's Adventure (2 page)

Cissy
still looked dubious, so Eloisa hastened to reassure her. “It is a
perfect arrangement. I get to dance while listening to wonderful
music being played by a proper orchestra. Formalities and potential
suitors don’t apply to me. I can just lose myself in the music and
dance. It’s perfect.”

Cissy
sighed. “What will you do after the ball? You can dance a
cotillion, and Viennese waltz along with the rest of them, but what
do you plan to do next? You can’t dance on Lord Aldwich’s terrace
every time he has a ball, or sneak in through the back door when he
is not looking, now can you?”

Eloisa
frowned and tried to ignore the irritation that stole her joy. “You
are always putting a dampener on things,” she accused. “What are
you going to do with your sewing lessons? Teach others?”

“No, I
am not always putting a dampener on things,” Cissy countered,
ignoring the rest of the question.

“Yes,
you are,” Eloisa argued. She sucked in a huge breath in an attempt
to quell her anger, but the words rushed forth anyway. “Who says I
need to use my new skill after the ball? I am going to enjoy this
one evening and nobody, not even you, is going to destroy
that.”

Cissy
sighed. “I am sorry for being such a wet blanket. I didn’t mean to
steal your enjoyment of your first, somewhat unusual, official
ball. It is just that you are doing yourself a great disservice by
staying in the garden. You will be just as elegant as the other
ladies, and should sweep in through the front door with
them.”

When
Eloisa began to smile again, Cissy nodded to the dress. “Stay in
the shadows while you wear that delightful creation. Any eligible
bachelor who sees you will want to keep you.”

Eloisa
scoffed. “I will stay outside then and hope it doesn’t
rain.”

Cissy
rolled her eyes and made her way to the door before she said
something else that drained her sister’s excitement
again.

“Talking
about rain; I need to get the washing in before that rain soaks
everything through.” She nodded to the spots of rainwater that
meandered down the window pane and hurried downstairs.

Eloisa
heard the back door slam and turned her attention back to the
dress. She held it against her again and walked over to the mirror
to study her reflection more carefully this time. In spite of
Cissy’s words of caution, a thrill of anticipation swept through
her. It didn’t bother her in the least that she wasn’t an invited
guest. It was heaven to be given the opportunity to dance the
evening away while listening to the music. Now that the big day was
almost upon her and her dress was here, her nerves had changed to
excitement she struggled to contain.

“I wish
you were here to see it, Papa,” she whispered.

She
desperately wanted to be able to wear her dress, or at least try it
on again, but she didn’t want to risk it being spoiled before her
big night. In spite of her worries, she began to twirl around in a
giddy circle while humming the tune to Lady Mary Montagu’s reel.
When the room began to swirl again, she stopped and placed her
precious dress onto the bed before she did something foolish like
stand on the skirts and rip them.

While
she unpacked the various accessories she would wear with her
outfit, Cissy’s words came flooding back. A tendril of doubt began
to unfurl in the back of her mind. It took effort, but she quashed
it, and put it down to Cissy’s worries rather than her own. She had
practiced several dances with Mr de Lisle and was confident that
she wouldn’t make a fool of herself if anyone did catch sight of
her. If her card was marked, she knew enough dances to be able to
dance amongst the Lords and Ladies in attendance without making a
fool of herself. The fact that she wouldn’t have a card was
somewhat insignificant because this was her first – and her only –
official ball. Life was not likely to bring her another opportunity
like this. She didn’t want to waste a single moment worrying about
insignificant little details like a lack of formal invitation, or
where she was supposed to dance.

When she
had laid everything out on the bed, she stood back to study her
handiwork and considered what tomorrow might bring. Once again,
niggling worries began to resurface. This time, she struggled to
ignore them.

What
would she do if someone took exception to her dancing outside? What
would she do if someone approached her and told her to
leave?

Sudden
doubts flooded in as to the suitability of the skill she had chosen
to learn.

Should I have learned something about sewing, or social
etiquette instead?
She mused, but
immediately dismissed that as ridiculous. To her, sewing was
something she did to clothing as a chore. She found it tedious and
passed it over to Cissy whenever possible. There really was nothing
else that interested her apart from dancing.

“No, dancing
is
the right choice for me,” she declared with a nod.

Dancing
soothed her worries, and was a skill she could take into the future
if the need arose. It was something that she had yearned to do
since she was a child. It was impossible not to take advantage of
this golden opportunity to indulge herself in a more formal setting
while she had the chance. For the first time in her entire life she
was going to be dressed like a proper lady and could dance, listen
to music, and enjoy herself. What harm could it do?

With a
firm nod at her reflection, a proud smile broke out on her face and
she began to pack her outfit back into the boxes.

“Now
then, my dear, we are going to go through the dances once more. We
are ready to go,” Mr de Lisle declared later that day.

The back
room at the rectory had been cleared of everything except for a
piano several weeks ago. Although the room was small, there was
enough space for her and Mr de Lisle to move through the dances
they needed to practice, but it was a squeeze.

Eloisa
swirled her skirts as she waited for Mr de Lisle to nod to Mrs
Jackman, who had agreed to be their musician. Eloisa studied her
neighbour’s crooked fingers waiting on the ivory keys. She
wondered, not for the first time, whether she would have been
better off learning to play the piano instead.

“Stop
it, Eloisa,” she whispered. “You made the right choice.”

“What
was that?” Mr de Lisle asked.

Eloisa
was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear him.

“Are you
listening to me, Eloisa?” Mr de Lisle’s voice was loud and
impatient.

She
threw him an apologetic smile and jerked her head in a rough parody
of a nod.

“You are
not with me this afternoon, my dear,” he mused. “Are nerves
settling in?”

Eloise
looked at him with a frown. A wave of alarm swept through her. He
was looking at her as though he was seeing straight into her soul
and noting things she would rather keep hidden. Unless she didn’t
know him as well as she thought she did, he was up to
something.

“I am
just a little nervous, that’s all,” she replied vaguely. “Are you
sure that Lord Aldwich doesn’t mind?”

Mr de
Lisle immediately looked cautious. She got the distinct impression
that he wanted to tell her something, but was struggling to find a
way to phrase it. Whatever it was, at the last minute, he appeared
to change his mind because, after staring out of the window
thoughtfully for a minute he gave her a half-hearted smile. Rather
than answer her, he turned away and motioned for Mrs Jackman to
play.

The old
lady smiled and nodded before she plodded away on the
keys.

“Mr de
Lisle? Everything is still alright for me to attend the ball, isn’t
it?” she asked. Her stomach knotted. She braced herself for the
inevitable disappointment she would feel if he broke bad news. When
he turned toward her, he offered her a wide smile that was as
worrying as it was insincere.

“Of
course it is, dear,” he murmured as he walked toward her with his
hands out.

Eloisa
frowned at him. Had he muttered something about someone turning up?
Maybe she had misheard him. After all, why would anyone else need
to turn up? She could have sworn that was what he had said. Before
she could ask him anything the waltz began, and she was forced to
turn her attention to where she should put her feet.

At the
end of the session, she stood beside the door and watched Mrs
Jackman gather her music papers and take her leave. Once she had
seen the woman out, she turned her attention to her dance
tutor.

“Is
there anything I can help you with, Mr de Lisle? You seem a little
worried about something,” Eloisa asked him.

“Mm?
What dear?” Mr de Lisle stared absently at her for a moment before
he gave himself a physical jerk. “Oh, no, I am fine. Thank you, but
no.”

“Is it
still alright to go to the ball? I won’t mind if circumstances have
changed, and you -”

“No!” Mr
de Lisle shouted. He turned to face her with such horror in his
eyes that her alarm grew and she took several steps
backward.

“I am
sorry, my dear. I am a little out of sorts today that’s all.” He
picked up his cloak and swept out of the room leaving Eloisa to
follow in his wake.

At the
door, he paused with one hand on the latch and turned toward her.
“The carriage will collect you at eight o’clock prompt. The ball
will already have started by the time you arrive. Meet me on the
terrace as soon as you get there,” he ordered.

She
jumped back in alarm when one long bony finger appeared just inches
from her nose.

“I may
fetch us some drinks while I am waiting for you. So, if I am not
there when you arrive, wait for me. Don’t wander around the gardens
alone and don’t speak to anyone. You must, and I repeat, must, wait
for me. I hope that the ballroom won’t be as crowded as last time
because I should like you to move amongst the other guests for a
while. You will draw some curiosity but, as long as you are with
me, you should not endure too much in the way of an interrogation.
Just mind your manners and remain graceful and elegant at all
times.”

“I am
not supposed to be there, remember?” Eloisa reminded him quietly,
horrified at the thought of having to talk to anybody
there.

“Don’t
worry about that. Just leave it to me,” he declared with a
dismissive sniff.

Eloisa
tried to nod, but Mr de Lisle’s finger touched her chin. He tipped
her head into a haughty angle that prevented her from speaking.
After several uncomfortable moments of careful scrutiny, he gave
her a satisfied nod.

“You
must be elegant and refined, my dear. Elegant and refined,” he
declared before he let himself out.

Eloisa
stared at the empty doorway in shock, more convinced than ever that
he was up to something.

“Has Mr
de Lisle just left?” Cissy asked as she made her way into the
parlour to peer out of the window. “Oh dear, I have just made some
tea as well.”

Eloisa
opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again with a snap.
She got the strangest feeling that she was missing
something.

“Are you
alright, dear?” Cissy asked with a frown. “You have not heard a
word I have said, have you?”

“I must
be elegant and refined,” Eloisa mused, and tipped her chin up to
demonstrate. “Mr de Lisle said so.”

“Right
now, you look like a goose staring down your nose at the door like
that,” Cissy chided as she carried the tea tray back into the
sitting room. “Tea?”

“Yes,
please, and some brandy.”

“Eloisa,” Cissy chided, but then grinned at her over her
shoulder. “I’ll pour the tea. You fetch the brandy.”

Eloisa
laughed and hurried off in search of some sustenance. After the
strange and rather unsettling events of the afternoon, she needed
it.

CHAPTER
TWO

“Oh,
Eloisa, you are beautiful,” Cissy whispered as Eloisa glided down
the stairs. “You look just like a princess.”

Eloisa
smiled at her and tried to find the right angle to tip her chin up
like Mr de Lisle had shown her. Unfortunately, she was unable to
see her feet then and stumbled down the remaining steps. She
grabbed the bannister to stop her fall and threw her sister a
grateful look when Cissy lurched forward to help her. Once she
regained her balance, she tugged her skirts back down and resumed
her elegant glide. If it wasn’t for the fierce blush that made her
cheeks ruddy, nobody would have been any the wiser of the slight
mishap.

“This
being a lady is hard work,” she declared when she reached the
hallway.

Cissy
smothered her smile – just. “Quite.”

“Thank
you,” Eloisa murmured as she accepted a pair of long white evening
gloves off her sister.

“They
used to be mother’s gloves. They are clean and perfect for such an
occasion as this,” Cissy said.

“I love
them,” she whispered as she studied the delicate embroidery Cissy
had sewn around the cuffs. “They are beautiful.”