The Perfect Finish

Chapter Twenty Five - Eleanor's Ball

Why had a London season ever seemed like a good idea?

The days were full of guilt and dread. Guilt over the wreckage she had made of a simple bargain, and dread over the concessions she knew she would have to make to appease her chaperone.

Mrs Cosgrove had thawed a little more and the evenings were not quite so icy, but they had come apart in an irrevocable way.  As if that single misdemeanor brought dishonour to her hostess.  Anna was the wolf in sheep's clothing and her true nature had shown through.

Was she another Davina Rapston?

She spent long evenings sitting at her window staring out at the rooftops and the sky. The weather was lovely now; balmy and gentle. The clouds were soft pillows of white fluff, and a smoky haze softened the city's rough edges. Somewhere out there was a world of happiness and fulfilment. Perhaps it was at the stables: she was no longer sure. 

Her thoughts floated, remembering her time in London so far. Remembering Mr Withand, who might not have engaged her heart but would have rescued her from the dreadful hollowness she felt at the thought of Mr Fogarty. There was a heavy amount of guilt, too, for Mr Fogarty was no ogre. He was a decent, upright, respectable gentleman who did not deserve to be viewed with such dread. But it was clear to her that life with Mr Fogarty would not involve laughter and pleasure. It went further than his statement that women did not belong at the race track ... she had the feeling, somehow, that Mr Fogarty would never even think of speaking to the regent about a horse-nobbler.

In her evenings by the window she caught herself remembering many such actions. Perry had helped so many times, yet he wasn't a suitor. He showed no desire to chase her out, no inclination for her company at all. Mrs Cosgrove had warned her from the beginning that Perry Haversham was not after a wife. She had only herself to blame if she preferred him to any other man. It was not going to be.

She brought her thoughts to that point every night, then climbed into bed and lay awake regretting everything. Nothing had prepared her for this.

A letter arrived from her father, telling her that Keith Laverton had been arrested in London and was awaiting trial, and that Hey De Ho was retired for three months to rest his knee. He was entering Mount Monolith in the Royal Cup at Ascot in another week, and Tossing Thomas was going to run on the same day. Jerry Callaghan was going to ride Tossing Thomas.

She read the letter sadly, putting it with the others. It was possible, if Mr Fogarty was as close to asking for her hand as Mrs Cosgrove thought he was, that she would never see a horse race again.

Eleanor's engagement ball was the next event, and Anna determined to be quite cheerful for it. Her new gown was ready; rose-pink shimmering with palest satin. She looked at herself for a long minute in the bedroom mirror. She looked good: Mrs Cosgrove's dresser knew well how to cut a gown. Lucille had dressed her hair in another simple style and she liked that. In the late afternoon light her skin was clear and her hair shone with health. Yes, she was outwardly at her best, however low her mood.

Mrs Cosgrove was in high spirits. Anna saw it with dread. Had Mr Fogarty spoken to her? 

She sat silently in the carriage, trying to gather her courage.

At Maris there was no need to show the invitation, the footmen knew her by sight.  Eleanor stood at the door with Lester Petier and her parents.  Eleanor squeezed her hands.

"I am so glad you could come, Anna. I think you'll know many of our guests. Have fun." She quirked an eyebrow in a gesture just for her friend before turning to greet the next guest.