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Authors: S.G. Rogers

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BOOK: Duke of a Gilded Age
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“My previous employer allowed me to use his piano, which was a very fine instrument indeed,” he said. “Nevertheless, I may be a little out of practice.”

He shifted from scales to a haunting melody.

“Tchaikovsky,” he said in response to Wesley’s quizzical glance. “
Romeo and Juliet, Love Theme
. But perhaps that doesn’t set the proper mood.”

His fingers danced along the keyboard. The notes of Chopin’s
Minute Waltz
cascaded from the piano like milky white cream poured from a silver pitcher. As he was finishing the piece, Louise descended the stairs.

“How very pretty,” she said. “I wish I could play the piano half as well.”

“Are you ready to help me practice, Miss Van Eyck?” Wesley asked.

“As ready as can be.”

Cavendish arranged a piece of sheet music on the music rack. “Shall we start with
Voices of Spring
, Your Grace?”

Although Wesley was unfamiliar with the song, he pretended otherwise. “Certainly.” As he faced Louise, however, Wesley’s throat suddenly went dry and his palms became moist. “Er…what do I do first?”

“You bow to the young lady…” Cavendish prompted.

“Oh, that’s right.” Wesley took a deep, ragged breath and bowed to Louise. “May I have this dance?”

She giggled as she offered him her hand. “Yes, thank you.”

So far, so good
, Wesley thought.

After lunch, Belle excused herself to return to her cabin. There, she removed her Sunday dress and instead put on a gown with a full skirt suitable for dancing. Although it was not an ostentatious dress, Belle thought the lines made the most of her slender waist. In addition, the gold trim on the olive fabric brought out the gold in her eyes. As she arranged her hair, she debated about what to say to Wesley. Despite her best efforts, the words kept crumbling on her tongue like a sandcastle at high tide.

At two o’clock, she slipped on her gloves, left her cabin, and climbed to the promenade deck. Be it proper or not, she hoped to find Wesley in his cabin and ask for a word in private. A few minutes alone with him should be enough to clear the air, and they would still be able to attend the dance club meeting at the scheduled time.

Her knock at his door went unanswered. Lady Frederic was reclining in a deck chair nearby, reading a penny dreadful.

“Excuse me for interrupting, milady, but do you happen to know where His Grace has gone?” Belle asked.

“Oh, you’ll find Wesley and Cavendish at the dance club meeting, Miss Oakhurst.”

“Thank you.”

Puzzled, Belle descended to the saloon deck and hastened toward the stern of the ship. As she approached the stairs leading to the steerage exercise deck, music and laughter became audible.
Am I late, or did the meeting start early?
Midway down the staircase, Belle stopped abruptly and gripped the railing with both hands. Wesley and Louise were waltzing together down below, alone. The air in Belle’s lungs seemed to leave her body all at once and her knees threatened to buckle.
He asked Louise to teach him how to dance, not me.
Moisture pricked the backs of her eyelids, and she retraced her footsteps before she could be seen.

Belle kept her composure until she reached her cabin, and even then she wouldn’t allow more than a few tears to fall. In fact, she
couldn’t
give in to the wall of hurt that threatened to consume her. The time of the dance club meeting was quickly approaching. If she could not control herself, the ravages of sorrow would be written on her face, laid bare for everyone to see.
Perhaps I can send a note to the group with the stewardess, begging off due to seasickness.
No, that wouldn’t do; one of her friends might come to check on her, and she wouldn’t be able to blame swollen eyes and a red nose on
mal de mer
.

She blotted her face with a towel moistened by the water from her washbasin.
Why do I care if he prefers to learn from Louise?
Could it be hurt pride that was upsetting her so…or was it something deeper?
I must cover my feelings with poise and smiles; otherwise I’ll disgrace my father and myself. This afternoon I’ll be the consummate actress, playing the part of a carefree young woman.
It would be a lie, of course, but she was used to lying by now.

Half past two o’clock the dance club members began to assemble. As he waited, Wesley tried to ignore the nervous pit in his stomach.
How can I be anticipating Belle’s appearance and dreading it at once?
Eva, Stacy, Carl, and Horatio arrived first, tumbling down the stairs like a quartet of eager puppies. When Wesley didn’t see Belle among them, he suddenly realized he was holding his breath. Stephen and Mrs. Van Eyck appeared next, far more sedately.

“I decided to attend as a chaperone,” Mrs. Van Eyck said. “With all due respect to your valet.”

It was clear from the slightly mistrustful expression on Mrs. Van Eyck’s face she still didn’t know how to deal with Cavendish. With his usual aplomb, the valet took her attitude in stride and even found her a chair. Belle sailed into the meeting a few minutes late, as effervescent as a spring day.

“Hello! I’m
so
sorry if I’ve kept anyone waiting.” She glanced around the deck. “What a wonderful space we have to practice.”

Despite his vow not to stare at Belle, Wesley realized he was doing exactly that.

“Yes, it truly is,” Louise said.

“How shall we get started?” Stephen asked.

Stacy cleared her throat. “If nobody objects, may I suggest some simple rules? We change partners at the end of every waltz, and no gentleman can dance with the same lady until he has first danced with all.”

“I like that rule,” Carl said. “That way, nobody can avoid dancing with me.”

“You give yourself too little credit, Mr. Stenger,” Belle said. “It’s been a pleasure watching you improve.”

“In that case, Miss Oakhurst, may I claim you for the first dance?” Carl asked.

“I’d be delighted.”

After Carl and Belle took their places, Wesley led Stacy onto the dance floor, Stephen was paired with Eva, and Horatio partnered Louise. As he danced with Stacy, Wesley’s confidence grew. The waltz movements, if not yet rote, were at least familiar. He was grateful his feet seemed to know what to do, because Belle’s presence was very distracting. He could hear her giving Carl encouragement and praise.
Belle can be awfully kind
, Wesley thought. With a mighty effort, he wrenched his attention away from her and back to his own partner.

Her waltz with Carl ended, the couples rotated, and Belle found herself paired with Stephen. To her relief, he behaved in an exemplary fashion.
He’s likely on his best behavior because his mother is watching!
As their dance went on, she even enjoyed herself to the extent she was able. When the last chords of the music faded, the next rotation brought Belle face to face with Wesley. She curtsied in response to his bow, and they jockeyed slightly to achieve the proper hold.
Please don’t let him feel me trembling!
Cavendish played a few bars as an introduction and Wesley flinched—as if unsure whether or not to move.

“Wait,” Belle whispered. “Ready…
now
.”

Exactly on the beat, Wesley stepped out and Belle followed. They made one complete rotation, and then another. His careful and studied movements were common for a beginner, but his instincts, grace, and timing were admirable.
I knew Wesley would be a good dancer.
A burst of pride brought a brief smile to her lips, followed closely by the surge of emotions she’d kept at bay. To her horror, her eyes grew moist and her throat tightened. She focused on the space over his right shoulder and for the remainder of the waltz she worked the multiplication table in her head to avoid thinking about anything else. At the end, she stepped back and curtsied.

“Well done, Wesley,” she murmured.

“I nearly blundered at the start, didn’t I?”

“An understandable mistake for anyone unfamiliar with the music.”

Belle rotated into Horatio’s arms. Her inner turmoil eased as she waltzed with him, until Wesley danced past with Louise. His playful smile and easy manner with Louise drove a sliver of ice through Belle’s heart.

Eighteen times eighteen is three hundred twenty-four.

Chapter Fourteen

Opinions

A
FTER
A
N
H
OUR
, Cavendish took a break. Stacy sat at the piano, played a few chords, and then launched into a familiar tune. Eva laughed and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, Stacy, not
Chopsticks
!”

“Why not? It’s a waltz, after all,” Stacy retorted.

“Indeed it is.” Cavendish strode over to Mrs. Van Eyck and bowed. “Madam, may I have this dance?”

Louise clapped her hands, jumping up and down with glee. “Oh, yes, Mama! I’d dearly love to see you waltz.”

Mrs. Van Eyck blushed, but rose from her chair. “I don’t mind if I do.”

Amongst delighted chatter, the younger people stepped aside and allowed Cavendish to lead Mrs. Van Eyck to the center of the floor. As Stacy played the
Chopsticks
waltz again, Belle drifted to the back. While all eyes were on Cavendish and Mrs. Van Eyck, Stephen came to stand next to Belle.

“I’d like to offer my apology, Miss Oakhurst. I believe I may have offended you this morning,” he murmured.

“Indeed, Mr. Van Eyck, you imposed on me.”

He pouted. “Do you dislike me that much?”

“I don’t dislike you at all. It’s just that my affections are engaged elsewhere.”

“I hope you don’t mean
Wesley
,” he scoffed. “Clearly he’s besotted with my sister.”

“I was speaking of my fiancé, sir!”

Her voice was louder than she intended. Several heads turned in their direction, and Belle felt Wesley’s gaze rest upon her for a few moments. Stephen waited to speak until everyone was once again focused on the waltzing couple.

BOOK: Duke of a Gilded Age
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