Pinnacle (ONGOING)

Chapter Two

     I had thought I was so clever, standing over by the refreshments, twirling my dance card around my wrist, ape-drunk.

     Or at least that's how I hoped to appear. As it happened, those stares I'd been receiving from the men at the party had turned into an approach, conversation, an invitation to dance. 

     "Oh, sure! Let me have one more glass and I will be right as rain!" I had slurred to Lord Randolph. Surely mama didn't think her new rules applied to unsuitable matches, did she? I shot an eye to the beautiful older woman who was feigning interest in the ancient Lady Moreton's conversation and was too distracted with trying to leave rather than watch me. 

     The newbies of the season looked like children too, I thought spying a young blonde man who might be handsome in a few years but needed the appropriate time to ferment. They were feisty, the young ones. They found my feigned intoxication an indication that I was loose-moraled in a way I did not care to address. I danced a jig or two throughout the night, with a few of them, trying not to laugh at how new they were to this whole ordeal. It was the most fun I had experienced in years. I had even dropped the intoxicated act and took Lord Randolph up for a dance. At the end of the night, mama was glowing with pride, and though I knew I was only earning everyone's appreciation because I was falling in line with what they deemed respectable, it was not... As terrible as I thought it would have been...

     Lord Randolph and I had finished our dance, and I am pleased to report the elder gentleman kept the appropriate distance between us and did not pay me the rudeness of asking for another dance.

     I had turned on my heel when the clapping ceased, and red-faced, I nearly ran into Mr. Menzies.

     "Suffering Jesus!" I exclaimed, which made the entire procession go entirely mute and stare us down.

     "I find it highly rude to accept a dance from a gentleman you have not been introduced to, Ms. Windle. I take it upon myself as an old friend to renew your honor and introduce you to my work colleague, Mr. Wells." 

     I froze in horror. and in that moment, I remembered the reason Wells had come to mind. It was late last season, I had been listening in on Lord Randolph and his posse discussing business at White's, the infamous gentleman's club north of the Thames and east of Hyde Park. We had only ridden by it a few times, but the times we had, mama had shielded my eyes from it. Wells' father had come up in conversation as being on the "arbiter elegantiarum" which was the board of trustees at the establishment. Wells was famed for having climbed the social ranks, beginning as a farmer, and receiving a plot of land from a distant aunt with which he sold and gambled his way up to the top. Though there wasn't much flash in the means by which he'd secured this position, I had to admit I admired the tenacity and the general delicious rule-breaking nature of it all. England was changing right before our eyes.

     "Sorry?" I blinked, snapping back from the memory.

     "Your servant." The man said, coming forward and bowing with extreme politeness. He was tall with tawny blonde hair and a soft jaw. He had an aristocratic nose and a thick brow. He was the picture of societal ideals, and I had just lied and said he had asked me to dance. 

     "Oh- Uh, yes. Good evening." I said and curtsied, eyes shifting to everyone's focus on the event.

     "I believe I have come to claim a dance." He said with an edge to his voice that only I caught, and I swallowed, taking his preferred arm. I did not watch for Mr. Menzies' reaction but felt him fuming and stinking at my back. There were a few moments of silence as the ladies and men stood in lines facing each other on the dance floor, and Mr. Wells kept a polite and lofty expression as his gaze sailed overhead.