Miss Charming’s eyes sparkled, and she seemed about to cry but giggled instead as he led her away.
Before Charlotte and Miss Gardenside could descend the staircase, Eddie appeared, waiting at the bottom. He did not look at Charlotte.
“Miss Gardenside, I must speak out. I, for one, find your behavior this evening abominable.”
“I beg your pardon?” Miss Gardenside asked with mock offense.
“As you should. Think on the other ladies, Miss Gardenside. Think on their delicate natures, their wounded vanities. It is not enough for you to be merely attractive, but must you outshine your entire sex so egregiously? I say, for shame.”
“Perhaps I might powder my nose with mud or pour grease on my hair?”
“Provocative suggestions, but I think my presence at your side might dim the splendor effectively.”
Miss Gardenside took his arm and, with an affected American Southern accent, said, “Honey, you could catch a fish without a hook.”
“If my lady desires fish, my lady shall have fish.” He gestured to the ballroom and they proceeded in.
Still not meeting her eyes, Eddie said over his shoulder, “Good evening, Charlotte.”
“Hello, Eddie.”
Mrs. Wattlesbrook waved a hand to get Charlotte’s attention. She wore an extremely lacy dress and feathers wiggled in her hair. Without her marriage cap, she seemed quite festive. “Mrs. Cordial, may I present Lord Bentley, a very old friend of our family. He has expressed a desire to meet you especially. Sir Charles, Mrs. Charlotte Cordial.”
Lord Bentley was a tall man, taller than must be comfortable for everyday living. Sure, Charlotte was a tall woman, but partnering her with the Chrysler Building seemed like overkill.
“Mrs. Cordial, I daresay this is a pleasure. Am I presumptuous, are you otherwise engaged, or may I request your hand in the first two dances?”
So here she was on yet another blind date. Another man forced into it by a friend—or in this case, because he was paid. Did that make him a gigolo? Weren’t they all, then, essentially gigolos? Ugh.
Charlotte took his arm and entered the ballroom. Hundreds of candles dazzled in the chandeliers, the music dazzling right back. Couples were already dancing, and the swirl of dresses was as beautiful as a coral reef. Tables along the walls were heavy with punch bowls and pastries that emanated sweet, crunchy aromas. Charlotte gasped. Never had Austenland felt so real.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“So are you,” said Lord Bentley.
Oh gag, said her Inner Thoughts.
Charlotte danced with Lord Bentley, sometimes watching Mr. Grey dancing with Miss Gardenside. And sometimes Mr. Grey watched Mrs. Cordial dancing with Lord Bentley.
“I have heard much of you from Mrs. Wattlesbrook,” Lord Bentley said as they waited their turn to sashay down the middle.
“Have you?” Charlotte asked. Eddie and Miss Gardenside were sashaying. Charlotte wanted to laugh. It was hardly a romantic dance. Then again, he was holding her hands.
“You intrigue me,” said his lordship. “I rode in from London just to meet you.”
“That’s a long way,” she said.
“It was worth it,” he said. Then they sashayed. It was a bouncy passage down the middle, sidestepping at a skip. She hoped no one held a hidden camera. She didn’t want this to end up on YouTube to embarrass her children.
The second dance was a little less Virginia reel and had more style. Partners stood opposite, coming together then away. Lord Bentley seemed to have given up conversation in favor of smoldering looks. After having been professionally smoldered by Mallery, she found Lord Bentley’s attempt to be just sad.
At one point in the dance, ladies crossed to the gentlemen on their right. Charlotte lifted her hand. Eddie took it. All the magic and smells and dazzles surrounded her with that touch. She was no longer observing; she was inside Austenland. She was real.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly.
“Don’t be.”
They crossed behind other dancers and met again.