Eleanor

Chapter One: Debutante

Never in Eleanor's life did she spew such bitterness and hatred for another lady. If one could ever call that thing a lady.

She sailed away to the rapid harmony of the orchestra with her dance partner, Arthur. Who happened to be her 'lover's' brother.

"Miss Eleanor," said he, "are you to be distracted by something other than our waltz?"

She sprung her eyesight away from the other dance partners and at the muddy expressive hue in his eyes. Both Arthur and his brother, William, eyes stood exotic and lean at the consciousness of Eleanor's wellbeing.

"I fear that your assumption is right, Mr. Thompson." Eleanor did a light spin, connecting her gloved fingers with Arthur's. Sea of aristocrats across the woodened plucks of the venue blocked the view of ever seeing William.

"Ah. Is it nerves?" he asked. "For the speech?"

Eleanor looked away from his worrying glance, uncertain as if to people were watching. Of course, people were watching. They always did. The married couples, consisting of Beatrice, Daisy, and Anna, persisted to gossip on any man Eleanor danced with.

"I reject you for underestimating my capability, Arthur. My speech will be exquisite, at least."

As she tried to recall the first sentence of her birthday speech, the words slipped off the tongue. How could she forget the main event of her own birthday dance? But her worries of the speech were not of her priorities. She needed to find William by the end of the night and have a dance with him. After all, a courtship of the two was soon to be approached.

"And Arthur," said she, trying to switch the conversation, "you dance with me, yet not the woman you married. Shall you not be tangled in a waltz with her?"

"Nay." As the orchestra stopped, he brought her gloved hand to the bridge of his lips. Men escorted their partners to wherever the lady desired; whether to get crumpets or sit with their friends. But Arthur guided her elsewhere, strolling along the gold speckled wall.

"But I do not understand. Surely, my heart will be betrayed if my dear William danced with another but me."

She eyed Arthur, expecting a wise and fulfilling answer in him. Brothers, especially one's close in age, knew each other well. Arthur and William were the same person to Eleanor, yet small differences of personality.

"It is not my spot to explain, but I must. You women are very emotional. And you do not think about the other perspective of things, only the way you see it."

For a moment, Eleanor wanted to walk away and go unattended throughout the ballroom. But as she thought about his statement more, it started to unravel in her mind.

"I understand. May you escort me to William?"

A new round of partners, entered into the ballroom. Eleanor glanced down at her dance card; the polka was next. The line next to the printed cursive had remained empty, supposed to be filled by William. How could he leave her on the night of her own birthday?

"My brother has been busy all night. Every moment I glance at him, he is dipping a debutante." William laughed, stopping at the grand staircase. Eleanor shifted her eyes to the top of the stairs, her parents watching the ballroom instead of socializing with other married couples.

"Nay! Come, point to them from up top. Surely, I can catch him in the act."

"Miss Eleanor, I am afraid the green-eyed monster is feeding off your feelings. You are no longer a child, no one will be generous or tolerate your bitterness."

Eleanor picked up the side of her rose-pink dress, trailing her finger across the lace trim. Jealousy never rested in her tender and sweet heart of hers. There shall not be space for it in a lady's heart, for they would be uncleansed if so.

"That is no way to speak to a young lady. If your brother talks to you, tell him that I must see him before my speech."

"Very well. Good evening, if we do not get to say goodbye," said he.

"Good evening, Mr. Thompson."

Her fingertips met her thumb on the silk of her dress as she trailed up the stairs. The king and queen conversed in a conversation, presumably about the new debutantes spread across the dance floor.

Eleanor stood behind her parents and contained her hands together behind her. All she wanted to do was twirl around the beads of pearls around her neck and wish that the rumors about William were false. The dancing with other ladies only stood as improper and inappropriate for a gentleman. William knew that they were soon to be in a courtship.

Jealousy or not, Eleanor needed to address the issue to her parents.

"Mama, papa," said she. Her parents both stood from their red-cushioned chairs, borrowed from the dining hall. Mrs. Saalfield wore a dark crimson off the shoulder dress. Her black hair swooped over her ears and into a bun in the back. A crown decorated in roses dug in to the front of her head.

Mr. Saalfield had on a black tailcoat and red waistcoat under neath, matching it with black trousers. Not a hair stuck out of his gray pointed moustache.

"Nora? Whatever are you doing here?" said Mrs. Saalfield.

"Mr. Thompson informed me that William has been dancing with other ladies all night." Eleanor brought her hands to her necklace and twisted each bead. "I came to ask if you noticed."

"I have not. Have you, my dear?" asked she.

"No," Mr. Saalfield said, reaching out his hand to her daughters. Eleanor put her hand in his palm, shocked to see that her hand was half his size. "We shall inform you if you do. Not need to be so worried about it."

She gave a light smile, standing on the top of her toes. It was rather easy for her to balance from the years she studied ballet with her governess. Eleanor kissed her parent's cheeks and travelled down the stairs.

There, her two intimate friends all stood before Eleanor. Fur spread on every branch of their fans. After doing basic greetings and kissing of the cheeks, the ladies took the stride to the waiting room, where they conversed about the new debutante's improper etiquette and each other's dresses.

"Oh, Alice!" said Eleanor, sitting at the front table in the refreshment room. "How light and gay your dress is!" She picked up her tea and brought it to her lips.

"Thank you. And look at you, my love! Merry happy returns of your birthday," said Alice, sitting in the chair next to Eleanor.

"Merry happy returns!" said her other friend, Kittie, taking her gloves off to take a small bite of a sandwich.

As Kittie and Alice talked about how happy they were to see Eleanor, she pretended to nod and laugh. The enthusiastic and optimistic Kittie and Alice sought that Eleanor listened to their rambling, until Eleanor spoke up.

"Is that my Willie?"

Eleanor stood from the chair and squinted her eyes. The diamond and well-lit chandelier gave no justice to her bemused, sensitive, blue eyes. William laughed and flashed smiles, a glass of whiskey adorning his left hand. And a lady stood in front of him, her cheeks so red that it could be seen from Scotland. A lace white fan modified her right hand, a flirtation that meant 'you are too willing'

Eleanor's fist dug into the white cloth tablecloth, creating an unpleasant friction with her gloves. The lady drew her fan open across her lips and walked away.

And that was enough for Eleanor to desire to know who that lady was—and make sure she never came across William again.