After a while, Beth drifted away from her Aunt and Uncle and towards some younger women of her acquaintance that were clustered by the dance floor. They gushed as she approached, clasping her hands and telling her how fine she looked, but Beth couldn't help but distrust their opinions. One was recently married and another two were engaged, but when they too had been looking for husbands their compliments had never felt particularly sincere. The last woman, who looked very young to Beth, was introduced to her as Lady Greer Evlington.
Greer was short and plump, with her fine dark hair gathered in romantic waves at the nape of her neck. Her smile was rosy and genuine, and she appeared remarkably at ease in the boisterous ball.
"Is this your first Quentin Ball?"
The girl nodded gently. "It is." She glanced around the room, noting the tables strewn with food and drink, the fabric which draped the walls and the elegant chandelier that was suspended in the centre of the room. The band played the last notes of a song, resulting in a smattering of clapping, as she turned back to Beth. "Everything is very fine."
The girl's gaze darted past her, her eyes widening slightly. Beth felt a hand on her elbow before she could turn.
"Beth," Bart said by way of greeting.
"Lady Greer Evlington, this is my brother Lord Bartholomew Humphrey, the Earl of Hurst." She gestured between them. The young girl bobbed a curtsey and her brother offered a quick bow.
"Shall we dance, Beth?" She agreed, so he took her hand in his, nodding again at Greer. "Lady Evlington."
The next song started up, and they joined the crowd on the dance floor. The routine had them part and return multiple times, but when they were close Bart would whisper a sentence or two.
"Lord Decker is over by the balcony. I will introduce you after this dance. He's a very good man, very well respected. Of those on the list, he is my personal preference."
Beth's brows raised at the idea of her brothers having preferences, but then she liked the idea of them being that invested.
The song ended quickly, and Beth was suddenly being escorted across the room towards a very handsome man. Lord Decker was almost as tall as Bart, with sandy hair combed deliberately out of his face and a wide smile. For a moment, he reminded her of John. She could hardly imagine being at a ball with the injured man. He would be relaxed, of course, and probably laugh like Lord Decker. She wondered if he'd ask her to dance?
She shook her head abruptly to clear those thoughts, coming to her senses just in time for her brother to introduce her.
"Beth, this is Lord Benjamin Decker. Ben, my sister Lady Elizabeth Humphrey."
He smiled at her warmly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Humphrey."
"And yours, Lord Decker." She bobbed a curtsey as he bowed and felt the first swirls of possibility rising in her chest.
"I'd actually been meaning to find you tonight, Bart." His voice was steady and warm; she could imagine his intonation as he read her poetry by an open fire. And he liked her brother – to like one was to at least tolerate them all. "I wanted to introduce you to Miss Abigail Eliot." A statuesque brunette appeared at his elbow, casting a distasteful look down her nose at Beth. She hoped Lord Decker wasn't creating and introduction with her brother; she could already tell she didn't want this woman for a sister-in-law. "Miss Eliot is my fiancé."
Beth's expression froze, just as the resentment on Miss Eliot's thawed into superiority. Her gaze flicked to Bart and she saw her own surprise mirrored on his face. He didn't appear as embarrassed as Beth felt though, probably because his internal monologue hadn't begun naming their children.
He recovered quickly. "Congratulations old man." he said, shaking his hand slowly and offering the couple a steady smile. "When did this happen?"
Lord Decker grinned, obviously excited by the news. Beth wished his excitement didn't sting. "Just this last week."
"I'm very happy for you." Bart nodded at Miss Eliot. "The both of you." Unable to speak, Beth nodded her support. Miss Eliot still hadn't spoken a word, so she didn't feel too bad that her tongue had atrophied in shock.
"We had best be getting back to our family, Ben, but we should go shooting some time. You can fill me in on what else I've missed." He nodded at them both again and then took Beth by the elbow.
His nonchalant pace made the palms of Beth's hands itch, and she curled them into fists to hide her shame. She felt as if the room was watching her, as if they were all aware that her first introduction to a marriage had been a dismal failure. She kept her eyes on the ground.
"By-the-by Ben," her brother turned back suddenly, forcing Beth to pause in her retreat. She twisted on the spot, smiling at the happy couple over his shoulder. Her lips felt stiff and she hoped it appeared more genuine than it felt. Judging by Miss Eliot's returned smirk, it did not.
Lord Decker nodded once at Bart, encouraging him to continue.
"I'm trying to identify a signet ring. Have you had any dealings with a man whose emblem bears a curled 'J'?" he sketched the design in the air with his finger, but his friend was already shaking his head.
"Not that I recall."
Her brother smiled his thanks, offering his arm to Beth as they turned to walk away again. Beth made the mistake of lifting her gaze as she moved, only to find Miss Eliot's victorious sneer framed by the stares of strangers.
Beth turned away quickly, slapping her brother's arm with her free hand as discreetly as she could. She was sure her cheeks were red enough to be mistaken for fruit. "Bart, how could you not know he was engaged!" she whispered through clenched teeth, trying not to draw any further attention to her embarrassment.
Bart spotted Simon across the room and led them in that direction. "I'm sorry Beth, but how was I to know? It only occurred this past week."
He hardly sounded apologetic, so Beth bit her tongue and offered him small glares. When they reached Simon, he smiled at them hopefully.
"How did it go?"
Beth's teeth ground together, and she thought she might scream if only her jaw would unclench.
She felt Bart's eyes dart to her. "He introduced us to his fiancé."
Simon's eyes instantly filled with pity, and he extended a hand to grip her comfortingly by the upper arm. Beth's anger doubled. Why was she so hurt by this? It's not as if she had formed an attachment with the gentleman! He was just the first on an albeit short list of names of potential suitors – but she would be the one to choose off it! There was no reason to pity her.
Matt suddenly joined their group, sipping on a glass of bright red punch. He glanced around the faces of his siblings. "Well?"
Simon coughed awkwardly, releasing Beth's shoulder. "He's, uhh... affianced." He murmured the last quietly, as if to protect Beth from the news.
Her pride flinched, even more so when Matthew began to chuckle. "Well, sister, you moved too slowly there!"
Before she could snap out a retort, Bart grabbed their younger brother's elbow and swiftly transferred her hand to the crook of his elbow, stepping out of the way with an eyebrow raised at the younger man.
"I don't know why you're laughing," he said softly, folding his arms across his chest. "The next introduction is yours."
Beth was affronted, but the abrupt change in Matt's mood slightly lessened the insult.
"Wells?" he demanded beside her, before letting out a pained groan. "Fine! But if we run into his sister, I'm abandoning you and running for the hills." This last was directed at Beth.
She nodded crisply. "Fine!"
It only took Matthew a moment to spot the plumage that identified the location of Lord Anthony Wells. As they approached, Beth struggled to keep her mouth from falling open in shock. Long peacock feathers were protruding from the floppy hat that covered his forehead and one eye, threatening to blind someone every time he bent to assess the rest of his attire. His costume – and that was the kindest name for his outfit – was a horrendously bright purple jacket and shorts, both of which were oversized and gathered at the waist with a gaudy gold belt. His stockings were an off-white, beginning at the shorts and disappearing into elaborate blue shoes.
Beth cast her brother an alarmed look. "He is better than he appears, yes?"
Matt's humour had returned, and he shrugged at her. "Just remember, I'm not the one who added him to your list!"
She hoped he was simply winding her up. As they grew nearer still, Beth tried to remind herself that looks and style were not everything. This quest of hers had been begun by her simple acknowledgement that she was not the most attractive woman looking for a husband, so it would hardly be fair to expect handsomeness-itself to want to marry her. Perhaps he was kind!
"Oh, Humphrey!" he exclaimed, acknowledging her brother with a dramatic tilt of his head. Beth wondered that the hat didn't fall off. "You're looking quite plain this evening! Are you quite well?"
A muscle in Matt's jaw twitched, and he ignored the question. "Wells, allow me to introduce my sister Lady Elizabeth Humphrey. Beth, this is Lord Anthony Wells."
The man's gaze flew across her so swiftly she wasn't sure he'd even looked. "Charmed, I'm sure." He did not sound charmed. He looked past them quickly, the smile suddenly returning to his face. "Regina, come here!"
Now Matt's discomfort was apparent, but when he made to pull away, Beth tightened her grip on his arm. She would not suffer through this alone! An equally discordantly dressed young lady appeared suddenly on the other side of Matt, laying both of her hands on his shoulder and squeezing far too tightly. Beth thought she was pretty, but it was hard to tell under the flamboyant clothes and the rouge that caked her cheeks. Her brother did his best not to flinch away.
"Lord Matthew," the woman crooned, batting her eyelids and running a single finger down Matt's forearm. "It's been far too long since I last laid eyes on you."
Beth felt Matt shiver, but she didn't think it was for the reason the woman wanted.
"Uh, Lady Regina Wells, my sister Lady Elizabeth, uh, Humphrey."
Lord Wells leant closer; Beth's vision was now entirely filled with the bright colours and overt clothing of the Wells siblings and she couldn't help but angle herself away. "Humphrey, I do believe you owe my sister a dance! You quite disappeared on us at the last ball."
Beth disguised her laugh as a low cough, earning a glower from her brother. He had no choice however, so he pulled free of his sister and offered Regina his arm.
"They make a fine couple, do they not?" Beth's attention had been on her brother's retreating form, and she was startled to find Lord Wells' mouth so close to her ear. As she pulled away, she could almost taste the alcohol on his breath, and her nose screwed up involuntarily. She tried to hide her reaction with a smile.
"Your sister is very-", her pause was small and hopefully unapparent, "-striking."
He adjusted his hat minutely. "Our family is very gifted in that regard."
In hindsight, Beth told herself that this was the moment that Anthony Wells was crossed from the list of her potential suitors, though truth be told it could have been any of the comments he made in the ten minutes they conversed. He offered opinions on the cut of every woman's dress who passed, who had too little bust or too much waist, and criticised everything around them from the decorations to the food. He had more positivity for the men, rejoicing long and hard about Lord Ascot's amazing aim and Lord Featherington's fantastic fortune.
Beth just fixed her gaze on the far wall and nodded occasionally, not knowing how to gracefully bow out of the conversation. Across the room, Regina had dragged her brother back for a second dance, so there was limited chance of a rescue from that direction. Even if Matt had been free, she doubted he would have saved her. Her other brothers were also absent. She'd not seen Vincent since they'd arrived, so she thought he was likely in the library. She couldn't see Simon and Bart but supposed they were watching from a distance and trying to give her time to get to know Lord Wells.
She needed no more time.
"... quite awful on Lady Rosemary Humphrey." At the mention of her cousin, Beth's attention snapped back to the man in front of her. His expression was disgusted. "Or the widowed Mrs Albright I suppose I should say."
Beth followed his gaze quickly to see Rosemary standing against the far wall, nursing a small glass of punch and smiling softly as her mother spoke. Her dress was black and heavy, with sleeves that puffed at the shoulders and then clung from upper arm to wrist. The skirt was similar to Beth's, after all that was the current fashion, and gave her figure the ideal shape. She looked sad but beautiful, mourning perfected.
She narrowed her gaze back on Lord Wells. "I beg your pardon?"
He didn't even seem to realise that she'd spoken. "That was a dreadfully inferior match on the lady's part. I think it's best it ended before she was too old to marry at her rightful station."
"'Ended'?" Beth stepped slightly closer to the man so that she could hiss under her breath, "her husband died."
He sighed, but the sadness in it was not for Rosemary. "And took all her beauty with him, I'd say. Look how sallow her complexion, how hollow her cheeks – the black does her no favours either. We should not allow pretty women to mourn; it's far too unenjoyable for the rest of us."
Beth was too enraged to speak. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish but she didn't even know what to say if she could.
"Still," Lord Wells continued, her gaze slipping to the side to cast his scrutiny over her dress, "I suppose she still looks far better than some."
She walked away.
Furious tears licked at her eyes, partly offended by his insult and partly upset that she was offended by his insult. She went straight to her cousin's side, looping her hands through the arms of both her cousin and her aunt, and quickly escorting them away from Lord Wells' line of sight.
The remainder of her evening passed in a blur of undulating rage and sadness. When her brothers asked her about Lord Wells, she told them to strike him from the list. They took one look at his outfit and asked no further questions. Even Matt failed to taunt her, probably scarred from his own interactions with a Wells, and she felt no need to expand upon the unkind things the oafish man had said.
Soon, but not soon enough for Beth, they were in the carriage headed home. As they walked inside, Simon offered Beth an arm to help her up the stairs. Her anger had been so overpowering that Beth had almost forgotten John's invitation, but it all returned to her in a moment and she found herself hesitating and blushing in the foyer. She was grateful the shadows hid her cheeks.
"Uh..." she looked away from her brother. "Thank you Si, but I'll make my own way. I want to collect a, um, book." She smiled at him. "From the parlour."
His brow was slightly creased, but he nodded at her. "Alright. See you in the morning Beth."
He trotted up the stairs, eager for bed, and as soon as he was out of sight Beth made her way towards the servants' quarters. She knocked lightly before stepping into the room and closing the door firmly behind her. The candle she held was unwavering, lighting the room with its steady glow. She turned back to find John running a hand across his face.
"Oh, I woke you." For some reason that possibility had never occurred to her and she felt embarrassment flame her cheeks. She turned to leave. "I'm sorry, I'll go."
"No, wait!" He pulled himself upright in the bed. "You came."
Glancing back, she saw his smile was surprised. "You asked me to." The response was quiet, almost a whisper, and she wasn't sure he'd heard. She wasn't sure she wanted him to.
One hand raked his blonde hair out of his eyes, the other resting absently on his injured leg. "How was your evening?"
Beth's expression darkened instantly, her delicate brow furrowing as she let out a puff of air and almost stomped over to the chair. She sank into it inelegantly, crossing her arms across her chest.
John shifted slightly in his bed to watch her, his smile turning to one of humour. "That good, was it?"
Hearing the laughter in his voice, she made an effort to look less petulant. Dropping her hands in her lap, she fiddled with her nails and refused to look up. Matt had recovered his sense of humour, laughing at her for disregarding two thirds of their list in one night and making the carriage ride as uncomfortable as she was willing to put up with. Now, she refused to give John more reason to laugh at her.
After a long moment, she heard him move again. "If you'd like to talk about it, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere." He chuckled. "I can't!"
Beth finally looked up. He was making jokes? His eyes were the clearest they'd been since he'd known him; he was alert and focussed on her.
She burst to her feet. "It was an awful night!" she exclaimed, pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed. "Why do me-" She caught herself in the middle of the word. "-people have to be so rude!" Once she began, she couldn't stop herself. "Is it so very hard to be unfailingly kind? Or at least passingly kind? I know I'm not perfect but I try my hardest to treat others with politeness at the very least. That's all I'm looking for: reciprocal kindness! Why is that so difficult to find?!" She whirled to face John, flourishing her arms and pinning him with her gaze.
To his credit, he looked neither alarmed nor amused. His hand was at his chin, grazing over the stubble that he'd sprouted, and his brow was creased. "I'm afraid I can't answer that," he said eventually. "All the people I've met – or rather, all those I can remember meeting – have been extraordinarily kind to me."
She baulked at his gentle smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. Here I am complaining when you can't even..." She didn't think she needed to remind him of his own problems, so her jaw snapped shut with the clack of teeth. Moving closer, she rested her hands on the frame of his bed. "Have you remembered anything?"
He shook his head at her apology, and then again at her question. "Unfortunately not. The doctor returned this afternoon to assess me again. He said that my leg and my ribs are doing well, and that it may take some time for my memories to return."
Beth moved further up the bed, resting her hand atop his. "I'm sorry. That must be disappointing to hear."
Heat radiated through her skin and she became acutely aware that her hand was practically on his thigh. She made to pull away but at the same time he turned his palm over to grasp her fingers in his.
"I think the constables were more disappointed than me. They came this evening as well but with no information."
Beth barely heard him, her mind focussed on the way her hand felt in his.
"I hope after all this that I turn out to be a man of means," he continued, "otherwise I will have no way to repay the kindness your family has shown me." She made a face at that, but he cut her off. "No, after hearing your vexation with the lack of 'reciprocal kindness' in the world I would never dream of not expressing my gratitude to your family."
That earned him a soft laugh, and she was smiling when she asked. "What else do you hope to be?"
He considered her question. "I'm not sure. A part of me doesn't want to form too strong of a picture – I might be disappointed when I remember my true self." He was looking towards the door, but his focus was elsewhere. "I hope... I hope I like however it is I spend my days. And that I have a large family, like yours."
Beth smiled. "Just don't wish for brothers like mine – you might prefer the amnesia!"
John let out a surprised chuckle, squeezing her hand in his. Her other hand moved to cover a yawn and he released her, gesturing towards the door.
"You should go to bed. You must be exhausted."
Her hand was suddenly too cold, and she tightened it into a fist to try and conserve his warmth. "You should be too," she commented, "but you look more awake than I've seen you these last four days."
The man shrugged. "I've not had the drops for the pain since early afternoon."
"Oh! Why not?" She quested around the room for them. "You should take them!"
"I will." He pulled the small vial out from beneath his pillow, holding it out so she could see. She stopped suddenly, looking at him with confusion. "I didn't want to sleep through your visit."
Beth knew her cheeks went pink and she just bobbed her head at him. "Goodnight John."
"Goodnight Beth."
The warmth from her face spread into her chest at the sound of her name, and she opened the door as quietly as she was able. She paused with her back to him as he continued.
"I'm not sure what was said to you tonight or who was being unkind, but if they insulted your appearance they were lying. If they used any word less than 'beautiful', they were lying."
She was still smiling as she left the room, but the moment she stepped into the foyer she stopped still and let out an alarmed squeak at the shadowy figure sitting on the stairs.