1
Bath, England
1886
Pamela ran her sweaty hands down her dress and took a deep breath as she entered the Assembly Rooms in Bath. In the three years she lived in this lovely city, she’d never attended even one dance.
It was highly improper to attend the Assembly unescorted, and since her affliction was more pronounced around gentlemen, she did her best to avoid them. She had always been shy, both because of her stutter and her personality. After the sister-in-law’s tirade about how difficult it was for people to understand her, she had become practically a recluse.
Last year, however, she met Lottie Danvers and Addie Mallory—now Lady Berkshire—and they had formed a close-knit circle of friendship.
Lottie taught young girls how to be polished and graceful when they went about in Society, and Addie owned a bookstore. The three of them met each afternoon for tea and to share stories of their day.
Pamela kept herself busy and earned a bit of money by teaching piano and voice to young girls. Her brother deposited money into her account each month which helped with her living expenses. It really wasn’t much, since she was certain her sister-in-law begrudged her whatever David was able to send.
But for the most part, since she’d been in Bath, she’d been very happy.
Mr. Carter Westbrooke, a friend of Lottie’s had invited the two of them to attend the Assembly with him. Pamela had been excited by the invitation because she always wanted to see what the dances were like.
From her place at the entrance, she was immediately taken with the lovely pale blue walls, with white trim and numerous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
They handed off their coats to a man stationed at the door, then Lottie took Mr. Westbrooke’s arm. He extended his other elbow to Pamela, and the three of them strolled into the space.
It was like a fairyland from a child’s book. The women were all dressed in lovely evening gowns of various colors. Deep blue, red, green, and gold g
owns flashed by as the dancers swayed and dipped to a waltz. Every sort of fabric was represented, too. Satin, silk, fur-lined collars of light wool gowns, and even a few velvets.
The gentlemen were as well turned out as the ladies. Dark trousers, stark white shirts, colorful waistcoats and well-tied ascots, all covered with dark jackets.
“Oh, t-t-this is lovely.” She looked around, turning in a full circle to take it all in.
Mr. Westbrooke smiled at her. “It is quite a place, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes. Ind-d-deed.”
“Westbrooke. Why is it you always show up with the most beautiful ladies in the room?” A tall, slender man slapped Mr. Westbrooke on the back and stared at the two women. The gentleman seemed to take particular notice of her, which made her a bit uncomfortable.
“Do I get an introduction?” Despite his question to Mr. Westbrooke, his eyes were riveted on her.
Mr. Westbrooke turned to her and Lottie. “Ladies, may I make known to you Mr. Nicholas Smith.” He gestured toward the man. “Smith, this is Lady Pamela Manning, and Miss Lottie Danvers.”
They both gave a slight dip and Mr. Smith bowed. “I will certainly be happy to take one of these lovely ladies off your hands, Westbrooke.” He turned to Pamela. “May I request a dance, Lady Pamela?”
Startled at his swift request, she said, “Y-y-yes. That w-would be f-f-ine.” She felt her blush rise from the top of her bodice to her hairline. Yet, she was speaking to a stranger—a gentleman no less—and agreeing to a dance.
She certainly hadn’t expected to be asked to dance so quickly. However, while they waited for the music to start up again, the four of them chatted about the usual things, England’s weather, parliament’s latest blunder and the horrible condition of the roads.
She tried to keep her comments short, but it was obvious that she had a problem with speech. Lottie, being such a dear friend, maneuvered the conversation away from her so it wasn’t necessary for her to speak much.
While they conversed, she observed Mr. Smith who seemed to be in his late twenties and a pleasant man. His looks were average, but he had a way of carrying himself and smiling that transformed him into someone very attractive. And he seemed to be doing a great deal of smiling in her direction. His straight dark hair was slicked back, but kept inching forward toward his eyebrows, giving him a rakish look.
His hazel eyes were framed by long dark lashes that most women dreamed of. Although they all spoke together, he seemed to address most of his comments to her. She tried to answer, but the man’s presence unnerved her. She did a great deal of nodding, certain that he must’ve thought her a simpleton.
He was so confident, almost arrogant. There was no doubt in her mind that he was taken with her. But she did not want to encourage him. Since she’d been banned from her brother’s home because of her stutter, she decided that the single life was best for her. She certainly didn’t need a husband whom she would embarrass every time she opened her mouth. She had her two friends who accepted her the way she was and that was all she needed.
Just as the conversation came to a lull, the Master of Ceremonies announced the next dance, a quadrille.
“It appears you are anxious to join the others on the dance floor,” Mr. Westbrooke said to Lottie, who’s feet were already tapping. He took Lottie’s arm and moved them to the end of a line of dancers.