Whatever had possessed her to agree to attend the Saturday Assembly with Mr. Westbrooke and Pamela? She’d purposefully avoided all social events since her arrival in Bath, except for the occasional trip to the theater with her friends.
She stared at the note and chewed her lower lip. Truthfully, she was so very tired of hiding. She was young and enjoyed all the things a young lady would enjoy. Theater, museums, Assembly dances, strolls in the park, dinner at a fancy restaurant. Perhaps she could never have a suitor since she wasn’t fit for marriage, but she could certainly attend more events than an infrequent night at the theater.
The wedding in London had not resulted in disaster, so perhaps it was time to enjoy a bit of social life. Before she could change her mind, she tore the note into shreds and dropped it into the rubbish. Then dusted her hands off with determination and opened the door to her closet to select a gown for the evening.
She chose a deep green satin with black trim that she’d worn to a ball in France. The bodice was a modest cut with a row of black lace edging. The fabric was snug against her waist and tummy and gathered in the back in a slight bustle.
Her black slippers that matched the lace on the gown were still in perfect shape, a reminder that she had attended that ball as a teacher and chaperone, so had not danced.
She managed to wrestle her dark brown curls into a simple topknot with a few strands resting on her neck and at the sides of her face. A sweet little matching green hat with black netting sat on top of her head, nothing more than a decoration.
Quite satisfied with how she looked, she picked up her cloak and waited in the parlor for Mr. Westbrooke to arrive.
Within minutes, she heard the sound of carriage wheels and then a slight knock on her front door. She opened the door and her breath caught. He looked dashing. Why did he have to be so charming and handsome?
He extended his elbow. “Are you ready, Miss Danvers?”
She contemplated chastising him for the way he’d maneuvered her into attending the Assembly by asking Pamela. But then decided to allow him this one sneaky ploy.
“Yes, Mr. Westbrooke. I am ready.”
Lottie had to admit she was enjoying the excitement of arriving at the Assembly Rooms. She’d never seen them before and was quite taken with the glimpse she’d gotten of lovely pale blue walls, white trim, and numerous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The room was three or four times the size of her entire flat.
They handed off their coats to a man stationed at the door, then taking a deep breath, Lottie took Mr. Westbrooke’s arm. He extended his other elbow to Pamela, and the three of them entered the room.
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 gowns 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. She watched the dancers for a while, noting none of the gentlemen were as handsome as Mr. Westbrooke.
He bent toward Lottie’s ear, the warm scent of his bath soap tickling her nose. “I take it since you teach young ladies how to move about in Society that you are an excellent dancer.”
Lottie loved to dance. In France, she had been allowed to attend a few events as a guest and not just a chaperone and enjoyed the dancing so much she even wore out a pair of slippers one time. “I don’t know that I am an excellent dancer, but certainly an enthusiastic one.”
“Ah. Modesty on top of all your other qualities.” He grinned, the light from the chandeliers reflected in his eyes. Her heart took an extra beat and the smile she intended to give him faltered. She did not know what to make of the effect he was having on her.
The music ended and the dancers scattered from the middle of the floor. Some to join friends on the side, some to avail themselves of the refreshments at the long table on the south wall of the room.
“Westbrooke. Why is it you always end 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, with a particular interest in Pamela. “Do I get an introduction?”
Mr. Westbrooke turned to her and Pamela. “Ladies, may I make known to you, Mr. Nicholas Smith.” He gestured toward the man. “Smith, this is Lady Pamela and Miss 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?”
“Y-y-yes. That w-would be f-f-ine.” Pamela’s blushed rose from the top of her bodice to her hairline. Yet, she was speaking to a stranger and agreeing to a dance. It seemed to Lottie that the two of them were facing their demons tonight.
She swore Mr. Westbrooke had tensed when Mr. Smith mentioned taking one of them off his hands and then visibly relaxed once he chose Pamela.
The four of them chatted about the usual things, England’s weather, parliament’s latest blunder and the horrible condition of the roads. Mr. Smith was a pleasant man, of average looks, but with the way of smiling that transformed his face into something much more attractive. And he seemed to be doing a great deal of smiling in Pamela’s direction.
The Master of Ceremonies announced the next dance, a quadrille, which had Lottie already tapping her feet before the music even began.
“It appears you are anxious to join the others on the dance floor,” Mr. Westbrooke said. He took Lottie’s arm and moved them to the end of a line of dancers. Mr. Smith and Pamela were right behind them and took the positions next to them.
It was a lively dance, and Lottie was pleased to discover that Mr. Westbrooke was a wonderful dancer. The intricacies of the steps didn’t allow for much conversation, but she found herself smiling quite a bit.
And Mr. Westbrooke smiling right back.
She took a deep breath as the number ended. “That was fun.” She realized as soon as the words were out that it had been quite some time since she uttered those particular words. It had, indeed, been fun, and she was quite happy with her decision to come to the dance.