Toast of the Season

❀ Chapter 12 ❀

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We are in the lovely ballroom at Rightmore Park, a regal home on the outskirts of London. I am currently dancing with Mr. Wimple and anyone seeing me from across the room would think I had a perfectly respectable dress on. It is all white, which is a profound relief after the rainbow of colors I have worn since the season started. Up close, the dress gives a very different impression. It might be hard to imagine how a white dress could be hideous but I assure you, they have managed it. The dress I am wearing is covered in little fluffy balls of yarn dangling on threads all over the dress excepting the white swatch of cloth around the hem used to lengthen the dress. Our own Queen Charlotte from Germany, God rest her soul, would not approve of my analogy, but I look like a white Christmas tree decorated with too many little white ornaments. If I turn too quickly during the dance all the balls suspend in the air, hovering on their inch long strings before falling back down into place. I remind myself to be thankful that the puff balls are all white, I imagine Beatrice toyed with the idea that they should be colored. I couldn't be more relieved that she resisted the urge.

Mr. Wimple was not lying when he claimed he was an unfortunate dancer. He has trod on my feet several times and I am now only placing my feet to avoid his. He was so excited upon entering the ball that he practically dragged his mother over to meet me. She was very kind and I thought I saw gratitude in her expression over my accomplishment in helping her son find some confidence.

I was so impressed with Stephen when he asked me directly if he could have my first two dances. He is becoming so brave now. I didn't have the heart to disappoint him. William Saville had asked for the first dance. He overheard Stephen's request and when I looked at William he understood and said, "Put me down for the waltz."

Stephen was so happy to dance with me and he has been talking nearly a mile a minute since we have started. Our second dance is almost over and I would like to encourage him to continue to be more social. I try not to interrupt him, so I wait for a small pause in his explanation of stellar parallax and estimating distances to stars. "Mr. Wimple, our dance is almost over and I would like us to rejoin my friends." He nods. "Can you continue to look up and give eye contact during our discussion?"

He looks unsure but says hesitantly, "Perhaps, I could try."

I give him a beaming smile of approval which makes him blush a little. "I will be right there with you. If you feel like looking down, just look at me."

He gives me a small smile and nods, "I can do that."

Now for the difficult part, "And... I want you to try to ask some other ladies to dance tonight. If you only dance with me it will look like we have formed an attachment. Especially since we danced the first two dances together." He looks somewhat confused. "We don't want there to be gossip about us, do we?"

He doesn't look as if he would mind the gossip, but in the end says, "I will try to ask someone to dance."

I smile and nod at him encouragingly, "Why don't you ask my cousin Beatrice first? I know that she would enjoy dancing with you. And she rarely requires a response in a conversation which I think you might enjoy." He looks grateful and agrees to try it. My Aunt Tufton and Bea were talking of Mr. Wimple's fortune on the way over tonight. I did not realize he was quite so wealthy.

We join William, the Miss Elliotts, Bea, and William's friend Fredrick Atbury near a fireplace. I can tell Mr. Wimple starts to get nervous so I take his hand as discretely as I can and he gives me a look of appreciation. The conversation moves from recent events like the garden party to who is here at the ball. Mr. Wimple is able to keep his head up but he does look to me often. I squeeze his hand and look at Bea when there is a pause in the conversation.