Fairly Unexpected

Chapter 4 - Mr. Crawley's Affairs in London

Marcus Crawley was dressed impeccably. He could be sure of that from the way his cravat was attempting to squeeze the life out of him. His new heels pinched. He was unused to having a jacket that fit so tightly that he could scarcely move his arms for fear of splitting the seams, but his tailor had insisted that all was in perfect order, and Hadley, his long-suffering valet, seconded the opinion.

He escaped the house before Hadley could find fault with his attire and ducked into the waiting carriage, ready for the night's entertainments. Crawley might have no fondness for adhering to current fashion norms, but there were a few things he looked forward to during the London Season. For instance, he did enjoy spending night after night drinking other people's wine, eating fine food and dancing with the latest batch of shy young ladies newly arrived in town.

The dance floor was crowded with groups of dancers and there were various clusters of people congregated near the refreshment tables. Nervous girls with their chaperones stood near the edges of the ballroom, some of whom were tucked away in discreet corners. In one such hideaway, Crawley spotted a young lady he recognized—it was her second season— and went to greet her. She shifted from one foot to the other, fidgeting as she noticed his approach. He saw her cheeks take on a pretty pink blush as she smiled shyly at him from her place beside her elderly chaperone. "Ah, Miss Hughes, here you are looking as fresh as a spring daisy. That color becomes you most enviably. I am already furious with the man who will one day claim you as his bride... but I don't believe I have met your sister?"

Miss Hughes giggled prettily. "Mr. Crawley, really! She is my aunt, Mrs. Jamison just come down from Whitleigh."

The older woman shook her head in amusement, "Flatterer."

"Will you save me a dance, Miss Hughes? And you, Mrs. Jamison? Will you dance this evening? Or will you break my heart..."

Miss Hughes presented her dance card and Mrs. Jamison turned an eye on him. "No, Mr. Crawley. I will not be dancing this evening, but you have provided me with a year's worth of entertainment just now, so I thank you, sir."

"I will take my leave of you for now, but I will be back to claim my dance. My lady." Crawley gave a foppish bow, causing more giggles and perhaps even a hint of laughter from the aunt. He made a mental note to send a few gentlemen her way so she wouldn't spend the rest of the evening in the shadow of the potted palms that graced the corners of the room.

The men were plentiful, so Crawley didn't feel obliged to dance every set, but he found enough eager partners to wish that he had worn his boots. By the end of the evening, he would either break in his new shoes or break off his old toes, he thought miserably.

"Crawley! There you are, old man. Willie has been looking forward to your promised set all evening." Chambers greeted him with a smile.

"Pining away for me, no doubt."

Chambers coughed out a strangled laugh. "Yes. She's shed many a tear over you, I'm sure. Honestly, though, you've got to keep up appearances or people will talk. Or rather, they won't talk. Which is the entire problem isn't it."

Crawley nodded. He made every effort not to wince as he wended his way through the ballroom. He spotted young Willamette Chambers standing near a ridiculous display of ferns and ostrich feathers. After a moment he was able to catch her eye. She gave a very slight nod of her head to acknowledge his presence. As Crawley drew nearer, he could see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

So far their plan seemed to be working. Crawley noticed more heads turned in Willamette's direction. He had taken great care to be solicitous of her, but provoke no breath of scandal. He also made sure to drop hints about her charms to young men that he knew were in the market for a bride and were not particular about the finances.