"I think we must introduce ourselves," Sarah Jane commented once they realized that the people were not going to tire of being beside Millicent Wetherby.
"I think you should, too," Anne replied as she took an éclair from the table. Really, the chocolates that Lady Huntington imported were sublime.
There were already 2 country dances and 1 quadrille, but both of them had yet to receive offers. There were many gentlemen, but they were always otherwise engaged. Anne didn't seem to be disturbed, but Sarah Jane didn't have this in mind when she pictured herself in her debut.
So, she pulled Anne by the arm and started heading towards the crowded area of the ballroom.
"I believe I said you should, not we should," Anne said in-between chews and dug her heels on the carpeted floor to stop them from propelling forward.
"Alone?" Sarah Jane stopped and yanked her harder, causing a small part of the éclair to fly from her fingers.
"Yes, you. Not with me." She stared at the fallen éclair regrettably.
"Whyever not?" Sarah Jane demanded and lightly kicked the éclair under a lined side table.
"I already know her, and we are not exactly friends."
"But we are, so that should be enough reason."
Sarah Jane pulled both of them to face the crowd once again. Soon enough, after Anne had safely swallowed the remains of the sweet treat, they were within visible range of all the ladies and gentlemen of the marriage mart.
They smiled at those who noticed them and blatantly stared at those who didn't. When the last strings of the dance ended, the ladies were returned to the wall and the men huddled together to presumably return to whatever they were talking about before their presence was required on the ballroom.
Sarah Jane stood straight, her bosoms proud, and her dress prim. The ladies were talking about the most handsome from the lot, and they couldn't decide whether Mr. Forester or Lord Whitstocking was more debonair.
"There are three Mr. Foresters you know," one girl whispered excitedly, and loudly, to her companion. "All of them without a title yet, but they have quite a fortune."
"And yes, look how dashing he is. That marvelous nose, and wonderful chin," the other girl added approvingly.
Anne tugged on Sarah Jane's sleeve and discreetly pointed to the direction of Mr. Forester. "If you ask me, I do not see anything remarkable about him."
Sarah Jane studied his face. He did look quite pleasant, but not as dashing as the girls have described him to be. In all truth, the Dukes had been better looking.
The girls suddenly stopped talking, and silence filled their corner.
Sarah Jane looked over to her side, and there was a man looking remarkably similar to Mr. Forester, standing next to Anne.
"Hello Ms. Hastings, how are you doing this evening," he greeted casually.
Anne acknowledged his greeting and returned with hers. "This is Lady Sarah Jane of Rosenberg in Cheshire. I'm sure you have heard of their family."
Lady Sarah Jane acknowledged him as well, and they exchanged pleasantries.
"How do you do, my lady. I am not quite familiar with the peerage as my interests have always brought me elsewhere, but I am delighted to be of your acquaintance." He began and then introduced himself as the second Mr. Forester.
That was why he looked very similar.
The girls were unabashedly staring at him. Sarah Jane took this as a chance to include herself in the group and make some friends.
"Do you not find this crush a bit warm? It's very nice that Lady Huntington decided to serve more lemonade late in the evening," Sarah Jane remarked and gave the two girls her attention. "Do you like the lemonade?"
The chatty blonde girl looked at her glass, as the other one pulled them closer in a circle.
"Yes, it is very refreshing," the one with the glass said
"Indeed," the other one had made sure she was heard as well.
Mr. Forester shifted on his feet. "Well, I do hope you are enjoying yourselves," he said as the first few strings of the next dance, another country dance, had begun.
"Ms. Hastings, are you free for this dance?"
Anne reached for her dance card. "Yes, I am."
"Would you... ah, do me the honor," he said and offered her an outstretched hand. Anne smiled and took it without question, leaving Sarah Jane with the two girls beside her.
"Oh! how lovely." The blonde girl with more curls had commented when Anne left with Mr. Forester.
"I do wish the third Mr. Forester would attend these gatherings. It would be such a great thing to dance with him," the other blonde girl said dreamily, ignoring everyone else.
Sarah Jane cleared her throat. "I haven't introduced myself, I am Lady Sarah Jane, daughter of Lord Rosenberg from Cheshire."
"Oh, we heard." They nodded and smiled at her. "We're cousins, we had our debut earlier this season. I'm Miss Mary Fromm." The curlier blonde said.
"And I am Miss Philippa Winthorp," the other blonde said and flashed their smiles. "How long have you..."
The pleasantries were cut short when Millicent Wetherby was returned to their side as the next strings of the dance started to waft in the air.
The cousins then tugged Sarah Jane with them, explaining how the gentlemen would always flock to Millicent Wetherby's side that it would be the best thing to be right there when the other hopefuls are to be looking for dance partners.
It was beyond pathetic, really. But Sarah Jane found herself beside Millicent Wetherby, and other pretty young girls who were just returned by their dance partners.
One man approached Miss Wetherby and asked her to dance with him, but she declined him, opting to rest her feet and catch her breath.
The girls then looked expectantly at the man, and he looked at one random girl in askance if she might be in need of a dance partner. The girl agreed with a delighted expression, as if being a second choice to Millicent was the highest of compliments.
Sarah Jane schooled her features to hide the queasy feeling of being in this ridiculous position while the other women flocked to the sides of the ton's beauties.
They have talked about nonsense, forming distinct groups of those who knew their place and of those who wanted to be part of it.
Miss Wetherby's expression was cultured into a perpetually pleased expression, sometimes betraying a hint of annoyance as her lips pulled every so often at the sides, her eyes blinking rapidly as Miss Winthorp chattered endlessly about the shape of clouds.
The other beauties, two daughters of a viscount, one blonder than the other, had already started to ignore poor Miss Fromm. Some younger men hovered, and Miss Wetherby spared them a few glances, encouraging their admirations and attention.
Sarah Jane would bet all her pin money that Miss Wetherby knew exactly what she was doing. On the surface she looked like any one of the unmarried girls, with the exception of her being breathtakingly beautiful. She held a sense of wonder, innocence and polite grace that invited admirers from left and right.
Finally, the dance had ended, and Anne was returned to her side.
Miss Wetherby quickly glanced at the familiar face, then recognized that there had been a new girl beside her all along.
"Hello," Miss Wetherby dropped her lashes and made a small bow to the women beside her.
Sarah Jane acknowledged it, and introduced herself. The woman gave her a small smile, her eyelashes fluttering prettily. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Sarah Jane. Although I cannot say that I have heard of Lord Rosenberg."
Anne Hastings stiffened beside them. Millicent was saying it in her lightest and most innocent tone, but her every word was inciting something else. It was typical of her former friend to bask in popularity by rubbing new blood with dirt.
"Miss Wetherby and I have been around for three seasons, you see." She placed a friendly hand on Sarah Jane's elbow. "She is very familiar with the peers that attend these crushes."
Three seasons? Why hasn't she married? Surely, there should have been another prettier, more enchanting debutante to unseat her by now?
"Well." Sarah Jane smiled, allowing to give Millicent every hope that she was not the tiresome woman she was being pictured out to be. "Lord Rosenberg doesn't fancy crushes of this magnitude, and refuses to leave the country's easy pleasures."
Millicent crossed her legs, dipping her head as she signified dismissing the two women. Then she proceeded to walk to the two girls waiting in the wings ready to fawn over her and shower her with compliments.
Another dance had passed, and Sarah Jane stiffly stood by the sidelines with Anne, murmuring their admirations of the orchestra. She noticed Anthony swiftly moving towards the crowd, angling his shoulders expertly to wave through those was chatting about. She looked at him expectantly, waiting to be taken in his arms.
"Lady Sarah Jane."
She was startled by a low raspy voice behind her.
"I am here to claim my dance."
Her hand was snatched and tightly positioned on his arm. Lord Holt, the wealthy and titled, yet aging and widower pulled her to the dance floor. Her head frantically searched the crowd for Lord Killsworth, as she was pulled to the dance floor.
Anthony had meant to claim his dance with Sarah Jane, but Lord Holt had been too fast to claim his. Their eyes met, and he knew that Sarah Jane was beckoning him to come forth. However, he could not have done anything to stop the elderly man from taking her to the dance floor.
Doing so would draw unnecessary attention to them both, and with attention came whispers.
This was the last country dance of the evening if he recalled the music schedule correctly. His mother had said something about it, but he couldn't precisely recall the order of the dances.
He moved towards the side tables and took miniature food offerings. He watched Sarah Jane's pained expression, her knuckles stretching the gloves as they clutched the elderly man. No doubt she was trying to help Lord Holt with his footing.
"Lord Killsworth!" A sultry feminine voice surrounded him, as he took the last bite of the cracker. He started, his eyes shifting to his right to see a familiar ghost from his past.
He hadn't wanted to feel anything but seeing her again made his blood boil. He still felt wretched from being duped.
"I thought that was you," she said with a warm smile.
He acknowledged her with a slight bow, but his attentions went towards the room, and scanned for eavesdroppers. He then settled on Sarah Jane's awkward form on the dance floor.
He thought his best interest to leave.
"My husband is in the card room," she spoke so softly, her gloved hand coming up to lightly caress his arm.
He flinched away from her, he needed to breathe. He needed at least two towns in between them to be able to breathe normally. Anger and resentment swirled in his belly.
Her lips pulled down in a frown. Her eyes lowered, as she surveyed the crowd. "There is much to be discussed. Would you care to accompany me to the gardens?"
"No." He answered so quickly and so lowly that any woman would have had the good sense to leave him alone.
But she persisted, saying how she had missed him, and that her husband would not mind. Her hand reached up to his arm again, caressing him knowingly, encircling his forearm and moving up... up...
He drew his hand away harshly, causing her hand to fall away awkwardly. The action knocked a delicately placed saucer beside them. The plate that had once held Anthony's miniature crumpets wobbled dangerously at the edge and then tipped over, splintering into a few pieces on the marble floors.
The sound caught many of the ton's attention. Their voices hushed, sending waves of awareness farther and farther until it reached some of the more energy-sensitive people on the dance floor. Their heads whipped towards Lord Killsworth and Lady Edward, whose expressions caused a stir among the knowing.
Sarah Jane looked up from the shoulder of her partner, and then because of the music, she managed a twirl yet kept her gaze locked at Lord Killsworth.
There was definitely something wrong.
The members of the ton looked at them, and one by one turned their heads to him. Some were more discreet, they looked somewhere else first—like a vase or a painting—before locating him in the room. Others were just rude. They simply stared at him, and waited for something to talk about, waited for an exciting unraveling of personal matters that they will undoubtedly feast upon in the coming weeks.
Anthony met Sarah Jane's gaze and then dipped his head to look at the mess of plates on the floor, as footmen hurried to clean it.
"Excuse me," he murmured and eased his body away from the tables. He walked away, dragging one echoing foot after the other until he had reached the main door.
Without hesitation, he left the ballroom before more tales were spun about him to send his blackened reputation to the gallows.
—————
A/N: I've thought hard and long on how I would reveal Anthony's past to you readers. I think it was necessary to keep his mysterious nature even while I'm writing in 3rd person omniscient. Revealed this way, don't you feel as if you want to touch him on the shoulder, ask him if he's alright, and also at the same time thirsty to know more? That's the power of juicy gossip. We people just want to know more, more, more — doesn't matter if it's the truth. We derive pleasure not from the truth, but from the 'more' information.
Thank you for reading my work. It always gives me pleasure to find new readers and meet them or talk to them! I've spent hours dreaming of this story, hours researching so that it would be historically accurate, and hours writing it to the best of my abilities. Comments are highly appreciated so that I can improve further. If you've enjoyed yourself reading this, kindly consider giving it a vote so that it bumps up Wattpad's algorithm :) Thank you!!