Searching For Captain Wentworth (19 page)

I could sense
Jane watching us. ‘I must speak to Cassy at
once, as I am sure she will be most interested to
learn of our
scheme. We must
fix a date.’

She was gone in
a moment and for the first time I felt slightly
uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to explain it, but
I knew I was
attracted to
Charles. I also knew it wasn’t right to feel like that. It
felt like a secret I’d never be able to share. I
didn’t belong in this
time and
Charles, I was sure, would have no interest in me. But, I
didn’t hesitate when he asked me for the first
dance, which I was
certain had been
prompted by Jane. It was just a dance, after all.

‘I would be
delighted.’ The words were out before I could stop
them. I tried not to think about what a disaster it
might be, though
I kept
remembering that the dances I’d seen always seemed to have
such complicated shapes, lots of turning and
crossing in circles or
figures
of eight. We’d had country dancing lessons at school for a
while. I would just have to do the best I could.

‘Come at once,’ chided
Emma, suddenly appearing at my side
and hissing in my ear, ‘Mr Glanville has arrived and if I’m not there
to greet him because of your flirting with a social
upstart, I shall
never forgive
you.’

Lieutenant
Austen bowed, and as I allowed myself to be
wrenched away, I hoped he hadn’t heard her. I
couldn’t help feeling
sorry for
myself, or more importantly for Sophia. When I thought
about how I’d always longed for a sister or a
brother I hadn’t
imagined it
could be a relationship based on cruelty. The only
comforting thought was the fact that I knew the
reverse could be
true. The Austen
sisters clearly adored one another and I knew
Charles felt the same way about his siblings. I
loved the way they
were constantly
teasing one another and sharing jokes, not with any
sense of humiliating the other, but each one
knowing that they did
so out of
affection and love.

We could see Mr
Elliot in the distance, standing with his
cousin at the entrance to the ballroom. Both seemed
oblivious to
the fact that
they had forced everyone else to a halt as the huge
number of people spilled out across the reception
hall. As Emma
and I
approached, the sea of whispering faces seemed to part as
people stepped aside to let us through the throng.

‘Oh yes, those
are the Elliot girls. The family is with Mr
William Glanville, you know. Rumour has it that
he’s looking
amongst his own
for a new wife!’

Emma heard them
and smiled broadly. She stood very erect
displaying her long white neck to perfection and
sallied forth as if
she fully
expected to become Mrs Glanville within the week.

William
Glanville seemed very pleased to see us both. With
the pleasantries out of the way, he asked Emma for
the first dance.
As he took her
arm to lead her into the ballroom he suddenly turned
to me.

‘Miss Sophia, do
take my other arm. I insist on your dancing
with me after your sister, and I will brook no
refusal.’

I didn’t know
what to say. Emma would be furious if I said yes
and Mr Glanville was urging me to accept. My
silence only seemed
to make him
think that I’d agreed to it.

‘I shall look forward
to our dance very much. If I may be
allowed an observation, Miss Sophia, I would say that the hue of the
gown you are wearing this evening is most becoming. I am no
poet but your jade eyes are beautifully enhanced by
apple tones.’

Needless to say,
after this most embarrassing outburst, mine
were not the only eyes to appear an altered hue.
Emma’s were quite
pea-green with
envy.

Charles came to
claim his dance. I needn’t have worried about not
knowing what to do, though I began to think that
hours spent
watching Colin
Firth dancing
Mr Beveridge’s Maggot
were not
going to do me a
lot of good. This dance was really energetic, more
like the country dances I’d learned at school.
Fortunately, only one
couple
started at a time, which gave me a chance to watch what
they were doing. William Glanville and Emma led the
dancing and
as I tried to
memorize the steps and figures, Charles demanded my
attention.

‘Do you enjoy
dancing, Miss Elliot? I must admit, it is my
particular delight and the activity I miss most
when I am away at
sea. Indeed,
whenever and wherever we disembark I will always
head to the nearest assembly as soon as I can. No
matter how tired
after a voyage,
a night of dancing always increases my spirits. My
sister Jane always laughs at me about it, but to
tell you the truth, she
is just
the same.’

‘I enjoy dancing
very much,’ I replied truthfully, but had to
suppress a smile when I thought how shocked he
would be by the
dark nightclubs
I knew where not only the music was very loud, but
where a partner might take you closely in his arms.
Yet, somehow,
looking at his
expression, I had a feeling that if Charles Austen
were suddenly catapulted into the twenty-first
century, he would
quickly get used
to the idea. But thinking about my own time was
no good, I had to prove myself in his, and I knew
that I desperately
didn’t want to
let him or myself down.

All I could hope
was that I wouldn’t disgrace him. I needn’t
have worried; Charles took command. That air he
had, a natural
confidence in
his own ability, coupled with charm that positively
glowed from within, shone through even more so on
the dance
floor. All eyes
watched us, which was unnerving, but once I felt
confident about the steps and figures, I was able
to really enjoy
myself. Once or
twice our eyes met. I had that feeling of
indescribable excitement again. It felt fantastic
and I hadn’t
experienced that
in such a long time, though I scolded myself for
my ridiculous behaviour. What on earth was I doing?
I was
practically
flirting with Jane Austen’s brother! But when Charles
whispered that my dancing was wonderful, I felt I
might burst with
pride. I hadn’t
thought it would be so energetic or exhausting and I
was glad when it was the turn of the other couples
to lead the way
so I could get
my breath back.

It was on one of
these occasions that I spotted Jane on the
other side of the room. She really had a talent for
dancing. Nimble
on her feet and
so graceful, she skipped and smiled wreathing her
way down the set. But, as I watched her laughing,
her eyes bright
sparkling, all
of a sudden her expression changed and her body
language conveyed more than any words could say.
She froze and
her darting eyes
clouded in recognition at the tall, fair-haired man
standing next in line to dance with her. He was
clearly making her
nervous. I
couldn’t see him well enough to make out individual
features, but I could see he was very good-looking.
I saw Jane
studying the
floor intently before she looked up to flick her head
the other way, thus avoiding his lingering glances.
There was a
moment of
hesitation; a clear delay, and a faltering behind the beat
of the music for just a split second before she
allowed him to take
her hand and
when she did, that was when I saw the sparks fly.
They held each other’s gaze, Jane’s head tilting at
an angle
displaying her
long white neck. It was as if they were joined by an
invisible cord and for a long time they did not
take their eyes from
one
another. Not a word passed between them, but every glance
spoke volumes. In the next second, I saw her raise
her chin
defiantly and as
she gaily danced along the line as if nothing had
happened, I noticed neither one of them looked back
or sought the
other out again.
You would have thought they were strangers, yet I
knew I was not mistaken. If they were not lovers
now, I was sure
there had once
been a very strong attraction. Though neither had
spoken to the other, I had no doubt they knew each
other intimately.

My attention
elsewhere, I nearly missed my step. Thankfully,
Charles saved the day, grasping my hand and sending
a frisson of
pleasure
coursing through me. By the end of the dance, my cheeks
flamed, my breath taking a few moments to steady.
Charles, of
course, looked
very cool. His slightly heightened colour made him
look more handsome than ever and, unlike me, he
seemed to be no
more out of
breath than when we started.

After the dance
finished, I sensed neither of us wanted to part
straight away.

‘Thank you, Miss
Elliot,’ he said at last, touching my arm
briefly, but enough to send a little shock of
desire running through
my veins,
‘it is rare to find a partner who dances with such grace
and ease.’

I was so
pleased. ‘The delight was all mine, Lieutenant
Austen.’

‘I hope you will
not think me presumptuous to ask for
another.’

‘I would love to
dance with you again,’ I said, even knowing
that although I’d got away with it this time, I
might not do so a
second time. It
was a risk worth taking, and however much I told
myself I should not dance with him again, I knew
there was nothing
I’d rather do.

The musicians
were tuning up again. Lieutenant Austen
bowed and I curtsied as prettily as I could. He was
about to take my
hand again when
we were rudely interrupted.

‘Miss Elliot,
what a delight it has been dancing with your
sister. And now I hope you will enjoy our promised
dance to which
I have so looked
forward.’

Mr Glanville
took my hand. It was done so swiftly that I
couldn’t protest. Charles’s expression altered, he
no longer smiled,
and after a curt
acknowledgement he immediately walked away. I
could only trust that he would come to my rescue
later on, but all
hope vanished
when he didn’t turn to look in my direction or
reassure me in any way. As I walked to the floor
with Mr Glanville
I saw Emma
glaring angrily, her lips pressed together in an anxious
attempt not to reveal her true feelings. I silently
mouthed an
apology, but she
didn’t want to see that I wished to be anywhere
else but dancing with him or holding his hand that
gripped mine far
too tightly.
Doing all I could to put him off, I avoided his eyes and
his questions, but he seemed as keen as ever.

‘You have been
hiding yourself, Miss Sophia,’ he said, ‘and it
is a great pity for it is rare to find such a
dancer to complement
one’s own
abilities. I should never boast of my own talent for
dancing, of course, but my friends tell me of their
envy. Sir
Archibald Anson,
a very dear acquaintance, declared he should
never wish to be caught in a quadrille alongside me
for fear of
being put at a
disadvantage. And he, my dear, has had lessons from
the great Mr Wilson himself!’

‘I have little
experience in dancing, Mr Glanville, and am as
likely to tread on your toes as the next young
lady,’ I answered,
determined at
once to show how very bad I could be. I hesitated on
the next call, managing simultaneously to jump onto
his gleaming
slipper and
smile as if I was totally unaware that I’d committed
such a dreadful crime. Watching him wince had me
biting my lip,
and at least
Emma looked placated for a second or two. But neither
ignoring him nor abusing him seemed to stop him
being as attentive
as ever. As the
last note struck I ran away, conscious that he was
about to repeat his request to dance again. I
thought he might
follow me, but
fortunately, Emma was waiting. She looked furious
and wishing to steer clear of her, I dashed away
losing myself in the
throng.