THE AIR THAT OCCUPIED THAT OF Bellevue Hall always seemed to shift when there was a ball on the horizon. It would feel different, and that was in a decidedly large part in blame upon the residents, of course. The excitement of preparation was contagious, colors of perhaps a dozen fabrics laid out in the parlor at times after the calling hours, sparkling like rubies in Lady Diana Beaumont's peripheral vision. She loved the thrill of it. The thrill of looking forward to something, was undeniably a perfect thing. Though of course, if things were ever truly perfect.
The lady's only disdain was that she would have to make an appearance without her companion. She had her entourage of course, though she was sure both her sisters would certainly dislike the idea of Diana referring to them as that. The lady suppressed a laugh as their expected expressions surged into her mind. But, in all seriousness, Lady Diana Beaumont loved attending events with her cousin, Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick. The ladies, being both of the same age, the same mind yet different hearts, would revel, in manners mostly dignifying, in each other's company, and ultimately attracting attentions wherever they went.
The oncoming ball, had secured her, despite her reluctance, two promised dances with perhaps the most self absorbed cousin she had had to entertain, and the lack of her favorite one.
As the present day dragged on, with Lady Diana Beaumont seated in the gardens of Bellevue Hall, the onslaught of the sun set brought along a miraculous news.
"My lady, a letter has arrived for you," A maid approached, her breaths coming in frequent pants. Diana raised a brow and took the offered envelope. The maid curtsied in response.
Letters were a common ordeal at Bellevue Hall. Perhaps as common as the air one might argue, or rather, as Diana's father Lord Beaumont argued. Her mother wrote frequently and excessively, her sister Henrietta had frequent acquaintances of her own and was fond of having penned down two pages passionately defending a side of a debate she was in the midst of with a friend. Diana however, wrote just enough, with fewer receivers. Letting out a soft breath, she took the letter from the maid and carefully opened it. One glance at the penmanship of the piece, and Diana knew from whom the word was from.
Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick, having left for France a mere three months before, in the pursuit of a change of scenery and with the object of residing with her grandmother for the duration of her stay, had penned down the letter in haste, declaring that her visit was over and she was to arrive in Southampton at first light the next day. The delivery of the letter had been slow, and Diana suspected she ought to have gotten it at least a week before, for Alicia was never the sort of person who would decide things last minute. They were, in her cousin's mind, planned and prepped a month ahead time.
She stood up and straightened her skirts, before striding into the house, her spirits much lifted at the prospect of having her best companion back.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
"In Paris, balls were absolutely exquisite. One must have very high connections to be invited to one, though it is a pity I had none," Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick's vibrant voice floated in the room, throbbing in the air as her cousin informed her about the upcoming ball held by their aunt on the morrow.
The lady's presence was a newly sprouted bloom at Bellevue Hall, her excitement to life as contagious as it had ever been to those around her, and mostly to Diana.
"But of course, I will attend auntie's ball if you will, dear cousin. We all know how she would react if we do not."
Lady Diana Beaumont's lips curled into a smile. Aunt Margaret was a people's choice best hostess of the county, her balls were elaborate and often were a source of many engagements and friendships formed over the years in this part of Hampshire. That was of course Lady Margaret Seymour's intention, for who would ever just arrange for an exquisite ball and hope for nothing to come out of it? Though Alicia and Diana had decided long ago that to get the entirety of the Southampton society hitched and not her own daughter, had not been the sole intention behind Lady Margaret Seymour's antics.
"Mother says I absolutely have to go, though," Alicia continued, taking a sip of the china tea cup held in her hands, "Lest, Auntie suspects I became French in my absence to France."
She rolled her brown eyes, and Diana giggled, lifting her own cup to her lips. It had taken the force of very nature itself for her cousin to convince, or rather, gain permission for her leave to France. The idea of her father's mother—Alicia Kirkpatrick's quite overtly French paternal grandmother—residing in such a country was the source of much gossip in Southampton, and Alicia's mother, Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick had threatened to never speak to her daughter if she went. But the threat had not really come to pass.
"How did you find Aunt Hyacinth?" Diana cautiously asked, and her cousin let out a laugh.
"Mother think's she's quite clever in sending me letters that contained not more than a sentence," Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick rolled her eyes again, "She's still very much offended I went despite her wishes, but she's practically bursting at the seams in order to extract information about my grandmother from me, and I won't give it until she asks in more than one sentence of course."
"Pray, don't torture her so," Lady Diana Beaumont vouched, a sly tone in her voice as she leaned for a biscuit on the afternoon tea tray. She did in fact, relish the idea of Aunt Hyacinth being tortured so, harmlessly of course.
"I think such torture is necessary if a lady wants to keep her place in front of her mother," Came the decided response, a proud smile punctuating it. "I would like to have props at hand, for my convenience, but I suppose the best props are words if I should want to avoid being condemned. I cannot have mother ruling my life, despite how much she wants to."
Diana propped the last bit of biscuit into her mouth, her expression in a state of fake awe, "You must teach me your ways."
"That's strange, for I clearly remember learning from you," Her cousin prompted, a laugh threatening to spill, as she touched her dark brown hair once.
"Hush," Diana spoke cheekily, before gesturing to the maid to request a fill in tray for the biscuits, for the one on the table was now all crumbs.
The ladies were seated in the giant balcony just outside of the west drawing room of Bellevue Hall, which over looked the Bellevue gardens to the left, and the happenings of miles and miles of Southampton, depended on how clear the weather was and how far one's eyes could see. At times Diana could just spot the boundary of the sunflower fields, a mixed hum of yellow and green, a scene scarce offered to her by the clouds.
They chatted, caught up each other on what the latter had missed on the former's endeavors, before soon the sun had completely set and they had to part in order to meet again at the oncoming ball.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
"Girls, girls! Is everyone ready?" Lady Ruth Beaumont called from the drawing room where she sat waiting with Lord Beaumont, all dressed up in her finest green muslin gown with her hair pulled back in an elaborate do with added dark green feathers sticking out of it. In her hand, she held an elaborate fan, decorated with feathers and silver ribbon, which she kept desperately shaking to fan herself as a result of the anxiety of being late.
Arriving late, at a ball or simply at a prior engagement, whether it be for the sole purpose of sitting together and drinking tea, was considered severely improper for a lady or a family of a high social stature. It gave the impression that perhaps the lady, or her entire family, was incapable of keeping arrangements and ultimately, her word. Leaving such an impression was a dreadful thing and on the grounds of propriety, the ladies and gentlemen of Southampton would rather cease than encourage it. Of course, people wanted to be invited to future things, didn't they?
Lord Augustus Beaumont however, seemed the least bothered by his daughters taking time to get ready. It was not because he did not fear being late as much as his wife did, it was just that he preferred not worrying about a problem when somebody else was already worrying about it.
The carriage, which was called upon to escort the Beaumont family to the Mansfield estate, sat parked just outside the Bellevue gates. The chauffeur, who had been waiting for who knows how long, had climbed inside the carriage and had long dozed off covering his face with his hat.
Soon, at a quarter past eight, busy chatter was heard coming down the staircase and as the chatter got louder, three voices could be easily distinguished.
"Finally!" Lady Beaumont sighed as she hurriedly got up from the drawing room sofa and rushed towards the staircase.
Setting her sight upon her daughters, she could not help but smile. They all looked wonderfully presentable, and for once, Henrietta did too.
Henrietta wore a light green evening gown, and had her hair up in a simple do. She had not accessorized as much as her mother would like her to, but for Lady Beaumont, that was a start. Mary Ann wore a small, befitting her size, soft yellow colored gown and she had her hair done and accessorized with a small matching yellow feather. The eldest, Lady Diana Beaumont, was dressed in a light blue empire waist elaborate gown, embellished with intricate embroidery at the hems and at the short puff sleeves of the dress. She had her hair done wonderfully, in an elaborate do, with lose curls framing her face and cascading from the do. Some blue forget-me-nots had been tucked and placed into her hair and she wore a delicate chain necklace.
Lady Ruth Beaumont, pleased, offered her eldest a smile of adoration that bordered on the emotional, and Diana quickly made a gesture to playfully shrug it off. Making sure to not lose a moment more, Lady Beaumont immediately rushed her girls and her husband outside and the family advanced towards the carriage.
Lord Beaumont was somewhat alarmed to find the chauffeur asleep inside the carriage. He could not figure out what alarmed him more, the impropriety of the chauffeur's behavior, or the fact that such a deed was as a result of the amount of time his daughters took to get ready, and thus he found himself wondering if he should either be surprised or worried.
Nevertheless, the family were soon seated inside the carriage, and were on their way to Mansfield estate. It was nearly nine o'clock, thus, it was dark outside. Not the darkness kind of dark, but the more purplish kind, the kind where there are shades of purple in the sky and a tiny crescent peeking out from amongst them. It was the kind of dark that was pleasant for night of a ball in the county. The kind of dark that even the birds seemed to enjoy.
After about fifteen minutes of the journey, Mansfield estate came into view. The cream coloured estate, looked darker now, with the windows on the ground floor and the floor above that, illuminated with yellow lights. The estate seemed to set alight the entire night sky above and around it, it felt like a glittering gem in its state, standing out and seemingly out of place.
As they approached, the chauffeur parked the carriage in front of the gates so as the travelling party may get off.
At first glance, Diana could clearly see numbers of ladies and gentlemen either going in or coming out from the gates. The gates had been left open and the luminous sight of the great ballroom met everyone's eyes. Everybody looked absolutely divine, with the ladies in their beautiful colored gowns and the gentlemen in their brown, black, and blue coats and white cravats.
Upon entrance, beautiful piano music flooded the air entirely. A composition she recognized to be Vivaldi infused her senses, etched with thick strums of the cello and strokes of the violin. And many couples were just beginning to make their way to the ballroom floor to begin to dance.
Lady Ruth Beaumont spotted her sister, Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick and her family from a distance and she excitedly advanced towards her, with her daughters following close behind.
"Oh, how lovely you look my dear Hyacinth! And you too, Alicia dear. Oh and Miles! Oh how you've grown since I last set my eyes on you, let me look at you dear," The Lady Beaumont exclaimed, excitedly observing her sister, niece and her nephew through her lorgnette.
It seemed customary to greet each other at balls as though you hadn't just sat in the same pew at church the past Sunday.
Miles Kirkpatrick, Lady Kirkpatrick's young son of eighteen and Alicia's young brother, was a very accomplished gentleman at his age. He had knowledge of almost everything, whether the matter be politics, or as simple as the subject of gardening. He had dark brown hair like his only sister and mother, and had brown eyes like them too.
Lady Kirkpatrick laughed as she saw her son's cheek flush a deep red by such a public compliment.
"Allow me to say the same for you dear. And your daughters look absolutely ravishing too, especially Diana. I dare say, she might be the busiest tonight."
The elder ladies laughed with glints in their eyes, forcing Diana to playfully roll her eyes at the implication.
"Oh, and where is Lord Kirkpatrick? Oh, I see him over there by the piano. Let us go and pay our respects to him. Come, Lord Beaumont."
Lady Beaumont then led her husband across the ball room towards Lord Kirkpatrick, who was talking and having a glass of champagne with some other men.
"Henrietta, do you care to dance with me?" Miles Kirkpatrick's voice came as soon as Lady Beaumont had left, breaking the silence. He held out his hand in front of Henrietta, motioning to place hers in his.
Henrietta, who in truth, did not care at all to dance, smiled and nodded. For she, being however ignorant of these little pleasures of society, was as loving as a sister and a friend towards Miles. Being of the same age as they both were, they bonded perfectly together, over music, books, and other things of that sort.
Lady Diana Beaumont could not help but smile as she saw Miles lead Henrietta to the dance floor. Miles Kirkpatrick was clever enough to get his obligations in, before he found a spot with Henrietta at the tables to discuss entirely everything else but the ongoing ball, lest his mother confronted him about not participating in a family event.
Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick engaged in an indulging conversation with another lady who Diana had on occasion seen a lot of times, but couldn't at present recall the name of.
"I suppose I should be with mother since I am not allowed to dance?" Mary Ann's voice came at her as the little girl sighed and asked softly, to which Diana bit back a smile and nodded.
Engaged in a conversation with Alicia, Diana found herself refusing an offer to dance from a gentleman, being suddenly reminded of her prior engagement to Oscar Seymour. The latter was, thankfully, no where to seen at present though his family—being the hosts—had already arrived.
"My, look. I believe that is Lord and Lady Buxton and their son, Lord Edward Buxton," Alicia whispered in Diana's ear, catching the lady's attention suddenly amidst their conversation on the season's festivities.
Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick didn't point, only gestured to the newcomers she wanted Diana to see, conspicuously with her eyes. The strange party in question consisted of a polished and finely dressed elderly man, and an equally fashionable elder lady who seemed to be his wife, accompanied by a young dark gentleman, who at once drew all the attention of the room by his tall figure and dark handsome features. He was tall, with skin the color of sand, and hair so dark that it seemed to catch the silver light.
"What are they doing here?" Alicia seemed to continue in a shocked voice.
The name instantly rang bells inside the church of Lady Diana Beaumont's mind. Southampton was gossip in it's entirety, people talked of people in the whole of Hampshire. Names travelled on winds, stories of scandals were brought in by traders and from thence to merchants and to the lords they dealt their businesses with. The lords of course, were expected to have conversation befitting their wives' natures at the dinner table.
"Don't they live in Portsmouth? What business could they have here?" Diana inquired quietly, her little knowledge of the Buxtons coming to the surface.
From her own knowledge, or rather things she had heard, about the Buxtons was that they owned successful mills in Portsmouth, and several acres of land. With industries taking over Hampshire like a plague, there was much profit to be had in their line of work, and thus the Buxton name had made it's rounds.
"Perhaps Portsmouth grew less profitable to suit their tastes," Alicia scoffed, rolling her eyes slightly. "And they are here to fish."
Having heard about but never seen the gentleman or his family before, Diana, at first glance found herself quite taken with Lord Edward Buxton. The glance she could steal became a full view when the people blocking her view engaged themselves elsewhere. Lord Edward Buxton had his striking short hair, and deep set dark eyes. His manner was that of confidence and surety. Without meaning to, her eyes focused entirely on his face. He was handsome, and undoubtedly so. He stood as though he was being painted, and Diana found herself wondering he really ought to be painted.
Suddenly, looking around her, she noticed many other ladies who seemed quite taken back with the younger Lord Buxton too, and that made her quickly divert her eyes. Lady Diana Beaumont wouldn't go as far as to say she was different from other ladies in Southampton, for she likewise engaged herself in many activities that everyone preferred too, but she wouldn't want to engage in folly when everyone was engaging in it too.
In her attempt to divert her attention to her cousins, she failed to notice that Lord Edward Buxton's eyes, in a room full of ladies, had found themselves on her. Perhaps if she had looked only a mere second longer, their eyes would've met, yet there were no alternate realities.
Starting a conversation with Alicia, Diana tried her best to not cringe uncomfortably as her eyes caught every other lady in the room gushing and whispering about the gentleman as openly and obnoxiously as possible. Alicia obliged to ease over Diana's discomfort and the cousins talked about all sorts of things as the music played, from Paris balls to Southampton fairs. They were so indulged in conversation, that neither noticed their cousin Adam Seymour along with Lord Edward Buxton approach them.
"Diana, Alicia, may I introduce my friend, Lord Edward Buxton," Adam announced and motioned towards his friend.
Then turning towards Lord Edward Buxton, Adam stated, "And Edward, these are my cousins, Lady Diana Beaumont and Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick."
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Lord Buxton stated as he bowed. His voice was entrancing, a low baritone as smooth as butter, firm and demanding in an attention holding sort of way.
His expression was stoic, yet his voice had a certain flair to it. He sounded serious, intimidating and amiable all at once. This close, Diana was really sure that if anyone had ought to be painted, it was this gentleman.
The ladies exchanged surprised glances, having been clueless of their cousin's mutual acquaintance with the famed gentleman, recovering themselves they forced a quick smile on their faces and curtsied gently in response.
"My," Diana started, trying to engage in conversation to force her silly thoughts to disperse, "Adam, you never mentioned you had an acquaintance with the Buxtons."
Lord Edward Buxton's brow twitched, at his family's recognition.
"You have heard of us then," He spoke, the Adam's apple at his throat dipping low as the gentleman swallowed, his eyes meeting Diana's.
A stark electricity shot through Diana at the eye contact, but she didn't turn away. "Most people have, you really are quite famous Lord Buxton."
"Yes, so I met him in Portsmouth when I was there on some business a while ago," Adam joined in, pride lacing his voice at his ability to make connections. "I'd say we have been inseparable ever since but that sounds unorthodox."
"It does," Lord Buxton mused, a hint of amusement in his voice. If Diana had wondered how he sounded when he was amused, which she hadn't, she needn't wonder now. It was attractive, the slight lift of his lips, the sparkle in his dark eyes.
"Well, Adam is a really great judge of character," Diana was obliged with a polite smile, "So it is a pleasure to meet you formally, Lord Buxton."
Alicia shifted slightly, before following up with a quick, "Quite."
The Buxtons, though famed, were not all for positive reasons. In Hampshire the excessively power hungry and rich with acres upon acres of lands may be considered royalty, but they were not very well thought of amongst high society of other parts. In general, Diana and Alicia, and those they knew, believed in living comfortably and letting other people live so to. Surely someone who is, more often than not, buying people off lands and lands off people, did not adhere to such a motto.
"The pleasure is mutual, I assure you," The new gentleman hastened, his eyes breaking away from Diana's briefly to quickly acknowledge Alicia before returning again.
Diana stole a glance at Alicia, who seemed to be calculating Lord Buxton's performance already.
"I'm glad," Lady Diana Beaumont faltered then, suddenly cautious of most of the eyes in the ballroom fixed intently on them and Lord Buxton. The suddenness of the gentleman being introduced to her and Alicia clouding her senses at full force.
"May I be as bold as to have this dance with you, if you are otherwise not engaged?" Lord Edward Buxton inquired then, his deep certain voice salient amidst the rhythm of the music as he held out his hand in front of Diana.
She swallowed a thickness in her throat, the turn of the scene catching her by surprise. Her eyes flickered to Adam Seymour's, and she took in her cousin's casual and expectant raised brows. Feeling most eyes on the ballroom on her, Diana put her gloved hand in the gentleman's warm one as he enclosed his fingers around her hers.
Her prior dance engagement with Oscar Seymour crossed her mind, but he was nowhere in sight and at present Diana had no capacity to think of anyone or anything else, not when this new gentleman stood in her presence—so stark and mysterious in his ways.
She met his eyes and he led her to the dance floor.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
"I must interrogate Adam this instant. What a folly not letting us know of his acquaintances in Portsmouth. Especially ones the likes of the Buxtons!" Implied Lady Seymour, waving her fan fast in order to dispel her shock.
Lady Margaret Seymour, along with her sisters, Lady Ruth Beaumont and Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick, sat around one of the several round tables lining the ballroom. With their husbands no longer having the urge to dance, they had nothing else to do except watch their children on the dance floor and exchange detailed observations concerning the guests and their activities.
"And I must interrogate Diana, for what sense does it make for the gentleman to instantly seek her out?" Lady Ruth Beaumont countered, her own fan mirroring the movement of her sister's, "He hadn't been in the room fifteen minutes!"
"Oh, you two," Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick spoke up, rolling her eyes, an action she had quite readily learnt by her daughter, "Lord Buxton is clearly infatuated with Diana, it is a first sight thing, so you mustn't bother her by inquiring of it. And Adam had probably mentioned his acquaintance with the Buxtons to you before, Margaret, it is likely you hadn't paid him any heed. You are known to not pay my nephew any heed most of the times."
At that moment, as the elder ladies watched Lord Edward Buxton swirl Diana in a final twirl of the first dance, the music ended, the other couples separated and everyone clapped. But, to their immense amazement, instead of parting for the next dance, Lord Buxton asked for Diana's hand a second time, taking hold of her gloved hand as she had begun to extricate herself from the dance floor, and they joined again for the onslaught of dance number two.
Lady Seymour and Lady Beaumont exhaled audible gasps, their fans freezing in the air in shock.
"Alright, I suppose this calls for an interrogation from both Adam and Diana," Lady Hyacinth Kirkpatrick caved in, her own gasp of surprise held at bay.
A servant came around then with a tray held full of delicacies the ladies might like, a welcome distraction that they all engaged in heartily.
A familiar figure then approached their table.
"Ah, Oscar dear, there you are. What kept you so long?" Lady Seymour inquired of her youngest son, "Please do not tell me this was another attempt of yours at a fashionably late entrance, because such a thing as that does not exist."
"Mother please," Oscar Seymour scoffed, "Do not pretend to know of my affairs." Although inside he was scolding himself for appearing so transparent.
"Now that you're here, Oscar," Lady Kirkpatrick chimed in, "Won't you dance?"
Oscar had upon his entry, already seen his cousin and Lord Edward Buxton on the dance floor. And since he had already engaged her prior, he was quick in allowing frustration take hold of him. As angry as he was, at his arrangement being disregarded like that, he forced a smile towards his mother and aunts.
"Of course, Aunt Hyacinth," Oscar responded, his mind sprinting onto his next move.
"Oscar there you are. What took you so long?" Adam's rushed voice came to Oscar's ears and he turned around to meet his elder brother's curious gaze.
"Ah, it was nothing important," Oscar shrugged, the thought infuriating that his late entrance had indeed been fashionably unimportant. Then his eyes darted back to Diana and Lord Buxton, and a question surfaced that he had meant to ask his brother, "Why is Lord Edward Buxton here?"
Adam laughed, "I invited him." Not catching onto the offense he should feel that his brother did not think of him as capable as to invite someone, "I wrote to him in Portsmouth yesterday and although it was last minute, he obliged to come. Owed him a good deal of favors back in Portsmouth, so I felt he could do with some fun at my expense."
A wave of annoyance washed over Oscar. Lord Edward Buxton and himself were on good terms having met only once when Oscar had been called to Portsmouth by Adam for a day, but seeing him here, stealing Oscar's rightful thunder, was infuriating. Being not entirely of same age, as Lord Edward Buxton was a man of twenty and eight, Oscar had known of the inferiority of his achievements against the gentleman's the moment they had met that once. But he had been able to escape from it, but now the man was in Southampton, and had stolen Oscar's place by his beautiful cousin's side at his family's ball.
As the brothers stood by the dance floor, Adam clapping at the dances and Oscar staring, or rather, glaring at Diana and Lord Edward, a small voice interrupted them.
"Lord Seymour," Came a lady's voice, and both Adam and Oscar turned to face her. The lady, as she witnessed she had caught both of the brother's attentions, corrected herself, "Lord Oscar Seymour."
Taking his cue, Adam raised his brow and distracted himself by going over to some of his other friends who were by the tables.
"Yes?" Oscar asked, his tone plain. The lady was the daughter of a acquaintance of his mother's, and despite all the number of times she had approached him, he still did not remember her name. After a while though, he had stopped asking, because why ask a lady's name when you can just refer to her as a 'Miss'?
"Do you need a partner for this dance, Lord Seymour?" She smiled slyly, hinting at her availability.
"No, I thank you," Oscar replied without even considering the offer. The lady, flushed at being rejected in public by a gentleman, made her way slowly back to her mother.
Suddenly, a thought went through Oscar's mind and he quickly blurted out, "Wait, I do need a partner." Then taking the lady's hand and he dragged her hurriedly to the dance floor.
As they danced, the lady, who was quite flattered at Oscar having changed his mind, started small conversations with him, which he answered with a yes or a no, with all his attention wavering towards his cousin and Lord Buxton a few couples away.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
"Do you come to Southampton often, Lord Buxton?" Diana asked as she looked into his eyes.
Lord Edward Buxton, who had been gazing back into hers since the moment they started dancing, replied, "No, not often. My business brings me here once in six months, at the most."
The weight of his gaze felt so heavy, and he had no trouble in maintaining it, making Diana feel like she had to look away every few seconds so as to not drown. She wondered if he had even blinked.
"How do you find this city? Is it anything like Portsmouth?" She further inquired, her tone curious.
Intrigued to see what a stranger to Southampton thought of her city, Diana felt herself hoping a pleasant answer. Her father always told her not to offended by other people's opinions on Southampton, because what is home to her, might not always be home to them. But hearing praise for her county was never a bad thing.
"It is very agreeable, mother likes it very much. It is more of an escape for her from the trade city that is Portsmouth. I, on the other hand, would not prefer to stay here," he replied, his tone straight and confident.
Diana's smile dimmed a little, as she clearly understood that her acquaintance did not approve of her county entirely. But then again, she was sure she herself might not agree with Portsmouth or any other county that wasn't Southampton for that matter. Shrugging the feeling off and putting on her best smile again, she dismissed the subject.
"I see, do you—"
"You are very beautiful," Lord Edward Buxton suddenly interrupted, making Diana's eyes dart towards his.
She blushed a little at his abruptness, before the strength on the heat touching her face made her wonder just how little it was. But making sure she was composed, she kindly responded, "Thank you."
And so the conversation ceased for a while, with neither of them knowing how to continue.
Edward Buxton did not in the least seem regretful in his sudden praise. He was straightforward and confident, and this lead Diana to believe that Lord Edward Buxton was one of those gentlemen who did what they pleased. Or maybe, the people of Portsmouth are like this, maybe they all do and say as they pleased. It wasn't that she was offended, it was just that she was surprised. Here in Southampton, no gentlemen would tell you that you are beautiful, until after perhaps months of acquaintance, or maybe even more.
Suddenly, she saw her cousin, Oscar Seymour sweep closer, attached to a lady who looked as though she was being dragged like a cat on a rope. Approaching, he stopped beside them, causing Diana and Lord Edward Buxton to stop dancing too.
"Lord Edward Buxton, how charming to see you at my mother's ball," Oscar exclaimed, his voice coated with fake appreciation. Lord Buxton nodded a little and did not say anything else, his hand still in place at Diana's back. Diana observed Oscar, who instantly seemed to feel awkward at being responded to so blankly as his smile fell.
"I wanted to introduce a Miss..." Hastened Oscar, hesitant as he clearly was oblivious to his partner's name.
"Fisher," Added the lady, not at all offended at the prospect of being introduced to the famed Lord Edward Buxton.
The gentleman nodded towards the lady, who beamed in response. Her eyes shining like an animal who had just found its prey.
"And Miss this is—" Oscar started, as he was interrupted by Miss Fisher, "Lord Edward Buxton," she beamed, knowing the gentleman's name all too well.
Oscar threw the lady a disgusted glance, on edge by her desperate nature and little charm of both her personality and her looks.
"Now that you're acquainted, let us switch partners for this next dance," Oscar suggested, turning his gaze back to Lord Buxton.
Diana felt her smile instantly drop, no wonder Oscar had come up with this plan. She had disregarded his prior engagement and being determined to get what he wanted he had resorted to this. How come she had not seen this coming? And she was starting to enjoy Lord Buxton's company, although he had said not much at all.
It was the depth in his eyes maybe that she had been enjoying, or perhaps how swift he was on his feet, or maybe the the feel of his hand holding her back, or was it the compliment he had been so reckless in giving?
Much to her surprise, Lord Edward Buxton, not at all enthusiastic about this idea, excused himself plainly. Then turning towards Diana, he took her gloved hand and kissed the top of it, and said no more to her. With that he turned around and left, right out of the ballroom exit.
As he left, Oscar put his hand out for Diana to take. She, not encouraged to dance anymore, instantly excused herself as well, "Forgive me, that is enough dancing for me today. I must go check on my sisters."
Then doing a slight curtsy, she made her way towards the table where her family, cousins and aunts were seated.
Oscar stared after her; to say he was angry would be an understatement. Miss Fisher, who was still present amidst all this, interrupted rather boldly, "Now, where were we?"
She motioned her hand towards Oscar, who, now at his wit's end with his frustration, simply responded, "Depart."
Miss Fisher's mouth fell open at such an insult, "Oh!" she uttered, before quickly making her way scurrying back to her mother.