A Sense of Propriety

Chapter 7

While Mayfield House was well known for its prestigious gardens, fewer sights could compare to the grandeur of the London home belonging to the Marquis of Midrake. With its regal white columns that lined the front wall, to the statues that dotted the landscape of the front lawn, it certainly was a sight to behold. As Cordelia walked towards it, she became acutely aware of the fact that this would be the first time she would enter the home belonging to the Marquis.

Several coaches had already lined the street, and many couples were making their way inside when Cordelia, George and her aunt crossed the entrance gate of the garden. The impressive home loomed ahead of them, and she felt her chest constrict at the thought of seeing the occupants once again. But she kept her expression steady as she ascended the stairs that soon levelled off to the front door and entrance hall.

Beautifully lit candelabras cast the evening activity in a glow of warmth, and Cordelia could not help but admire the beauty of the décor and architecture. Then, all too soon, she found herself before the Marquis himself, who was dressed in a fine coat with a fashionably tied cravat.

She could not help but admire his appearance from being dressed in such a manner, and his expression was pleasant as he greeted them, his stormy eyes lingering on her as he did so. There was something about his attention towards her, an appreciative look in his eyes that made her suddenly shy when she remembered his previous compliment of her features. With her bashfulness prevailing, she looked to his guest of honour instead, who was dressed in a stunning gown of fine lace and muslin the colour of pale pink. A becoming colour for her young, fair complexion.

"I am so glad to see you in attendance," Lady Alicia said, her teeth like a string of pearls as she directed her smile towards her.

Cordelia returned the greeting, but she knew that it appeared as forced as it was. She did not understand why Lady Alicia seemed so enthusiastic to speak to her, but she unfortunately did not hold the same sentiments. And so she was more than happy when Lady Midrake, quite obviously so, nudged her son that the next guests were waiting.

She followed after her aunt and cousin quietly, taking the time to look at the scene surrounding her. The music of a string quartet resounded in her ears, and several people were milling about the entrance hall, their gowns beautifully designed in vibrant colours and coats expertly tailored.

Already, she could see the differences between a private ball and a public one. The public balls, of which she had the misfortune of attending five already, were often heavily congested with not enough ventilation in the room. The first ball she attended had made her feel quite faint after only several dances because of the stifling heat created by the overcrowded room.

So far the house felt airy and fresh.

Even her cousin seemed quite at ease with the arrangement, though he had initially expressed complete disdain at the thought of going to a ball, claiming that people always made his head hurt.

As they moved to the ballroom where couples and parties of ladies and gentlemen stood speaking to each other, she was amazed at the size of it. The room could comfortably allow for fifty, if not more, dancing couples and the sheer splendour of the design was something to behold with its rich gold and dark wood hues.

A delicate, refreshing breeze drifted in through the opened doors that led out to what she assumed was a courtyard, and the murmurs of elegant ladies and refined gentlemen were a gentle hum to her ear—not at all like some public balls where drunkards were stumbling over themselves and ladies screeching with undainty laughter in every corner. The space and light joviality of the crowd eased Cordelia's previous reservations about attending, and she turned to speak to her aunt when a call interrupted her.