Toast of the Season

❀ Chapter 3 ❀

❀ Miss Elizabeth Cavendish ❀

Lord Westworth held out his hand to me. "Miss Cavendish, would you do the honor of dancing the first with me?"

I do realize that my aunt only just warned that I would likely not get asked to dance this evening, but I do not think that is excuse enough for her jaw dropped in obvious shock at the gentleman's request. I glance to both my aunt and cousin to see if they will be needing smelling salts to recover and am tempted to remind them to close their mouths so as not to catch flies. But I realize any comment I make will only bring attention to their current state of shock over the fact that I was asked to dance. And I certainly don't need to paint myself in any worse light than my staircase dive already has.

So I merely face Lord Westworth and accept. "Thank you, Lord Westworth. I would love to dance." I give the tall, handsome gentleman a small smile as I place my gloved hand in his. He reaches up and removes my shawl, placing it on a nearby chair. I frown a bit when I notice he is pinching my wrap between two fingers as if it is a dirty thing. I wonder if I should explain that it is clean, despite the grey color, but there is no time as he is leading shawl-less me out to the dance floor.

I have only recently learned to dance and I am hopeful my first ever in public will have steps I know well, since this is likely my only dance of the night. I face Lord Westworth and notice his eyes are assessing me with rapt attention, flicking back and forth across me from top to bottom in the manner that looks like I am a page in a book. He reaches for my broken glasses and pulls them with their chain over my head, "Are you in need of the spectacles to see, Miss Cavendish?"

"No, I admit they are only a comfort to me," I say the words as my glasses disappear into an inside pocket of his jacket. His hands go to my hair next and he is rearranging the clips near the front. Although I think it odd for him to be tidying my hair on the ballroom floor, I allow him to continue. I don't have any experience to compare since this is my first ball, but I do notice that no other lady's partners are arranging their hair clips.

"I want to thank you for asking me to dance Lord Westworth. The fact that it is the first dance of the night shall put my mind at ease for the rest of the evening. I will no longer be required to fret for hours about having my first ball occur dance free." He has let some of my hair down in the front and I notice that the other ladies also wear their hair in this style, with tufts in the front, the rest up in the back. Beatrice often wears her hair this way. Lord Westworth puts the extra hair pins into the pocket with my glasses.

His crystal blue eyes look into mine as he frowns, "You do not anticipate another dance this evening? Do you not know who I am, Miss Cavendish?"

I nod once, looking back into his beautifully clear eyes, "Certainly, you are Lord Edmund Westworth. You were introduced to me only moments ago. I will admit, I do not have a good memory for names, but I can remember them for more than a quarter hour, I am sure." I lean in a bit as he has a pleasing scent. It is subtle but so wonderfully masculine and aromatic. 

His eyes are still assessing me and it is a little thrilling to look at the way his features are pleasingly arranged on his face. I find that I do not want to look away. I should also acknowledge that he has a wonderfully confident voice and it makes me wonder if he can sing at all. "But have you really not heard of me before this evening, then?" 

Hmmm, how do I answer this? It is possible my aunt and cousin have mentioned him, but I have been inattentive to those conversation details over the last weeks. I try to give my answer in as positive a manner as possible. "I do not have an interest in gossip, so I do not know anything about anyone, Sir. And, I will admit, I have only spent two months of my whole life in London."