At the Morribel ball this past Tuesday night, Viscount Nicholas was observed in a state that can only be described as "uncharacteristically buoyant." While the Viscount is typically known for a brooding countenance, he was seen dancing, with a particular eligible young lady. A dance that was accompanied with laughter that has sent a collective shiver of anticipation through every marriage-minded household in Mayfair.
Can it be that our stoic Viscount has finally succumbed to the charms of the season, or is this merely a calculated performance designed to lead This Author—and the rest of the ton—on a merry chase?
It may seem that This Author is reading far too much into a simple evening's entertainment, but in a society where a misplaced glance can ruin a reputation, a shared laugh is practically an engagement announcement.
Lady Ravenscroft's Society Papers, 22 April 1812.
By evening, Nicholas was fully sure that his mother really did intend on him getting married. Lady Harrington decide not so quietly to announce to everyone who care to listen about his intentions to get married along with the fact that he had been introduced to six eligible ladies.
Even worse, Lady Morribel had joined his mother in her quest for a wife.
And despite that, none of the ladies in question take his breath away or at least intrigue him.
"Will you stop that?" Nicholas said glaring at Benedict who seem to find his predicament funny.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me as if you are mocking me!"
Benedict laughed. "I am indeed mocking you." He revealed.
"The least you can do as my brother is getting them off my back."
"And miss the show." Benedict exclaimed with a smile. "Miss Beaumont seem like a good candidate."
"Who?"
"Miss Beaumont, she left town before due to unknown circumstances but she seems like the kind of person you would like"
"What makes you say that?" Nicholas asked in confusion.
"You wanted someone who will tickle your fantasy." Benedict said as he looked over at the Beaumont family. "You wanted a challenge. She is one"
"I barely know her."
"Which makes her much more interesting." Benedict said with a smile
"What!!"
"You wanted someone you would fall in love. Maybe Miss Beaumont is that person" Benedict said with a smirk on his face.
"I----"
"Nicholas!," he said or perhaps yell subtly. "I know Mother did not give birth to a fool as Viscount."
"What?"
"Heaven help me, she is someone you don't know. You said it yourself perhaps someone new in town. Remember" Benedict said as he grab a drink for himself. "This is her first season out as a debutante and she is someone you have not yet conversed with when it comes to the subject of marriage. Although I hear she is twenty-two, not that you mind. Go to her, ask her for a dance."
"I cannot"
"Cannot or will not."
"I cannot, did you by chance forget the discussion we had earlier that if I am to get married, it has to be with someone I love." Nicholas explained as his eyes glance through the ballroom devising a plan for escape.
"And tell me how that is working for you."
"Just help me get Mother and Lady Morribel off my back so I can escape this madness. Nicholas said with irritation.
"That my dear brother will not be possible. Look." He said as he turn to see Lady Morribel and his mother already by their side.
Nicholas was about to lose it.
He loved the two women dearly but he could not bear this madness.
Lady Morribel's ball is always the first ball of the season, it had been like that for years ever since she had been the Queen's Lady-in-waiting waiting and closest confidant. She always throw the most expensive event and thus, the first ball of the season gets hosted by her.
Lady Morribel and his mother are close friends,very close ever since her husband died two decades ago. He considered her as a second mother and now, she alongside his mother are the two most frustrating people he had ever come across.
"Your mother showed me her list" Lady Morribel said.
He stare at his mother in didbelief, "She brought it along?."
"Certainly, It is not everyday that you agree to do something like this." She said as she grab a drink for herself. "You can trust the judgement of both your mother and i."
"Your judgement that include the introduction of six ladies that somehow know nothing about dance?" Nicholas asked with his brows raised.
"A mistake on my path, Forgive me." Lady Harrington said.
"Oh, look there is Lady Beaumont and her daughters. Follow me would you?" Lady Morribel asked as she grab onto him and head off without waiting for an answer with a smirk on Benedict's face.
"Good evening Lady Beaumont" Lady Morribel greeted as they arrive by the trio.
"Evening Lady Morribel." Lady Beaumont greeted before turning to face him. "Mr Harrington, how lovely to see you. These are my daughters, Helena and Hiliary."
He took each of their gloved hands and brushed a light kiss on their knuckles. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." He said politely.
"Perhaps you and Miss Helena shall take to the dance floor while I speak with her Mother?" Lady Morribel asked Nicholas motioning for him to take her dance card.
"Oh, no. I am quite content alone." Helena said with a nervous smile.
"Nonsense." Lady Morribel said waving her off. "Go ahead, the dance is about to begin."
"I-----" Helena begin but was cut off by her mother.
"I am sure the Viscount does not bite, Helena" Lady Beaumont said.
With no other choice, Nicholas had to ask.
"A dance, my lady?" Nicholas asked as he offered his hand.
Helena could not possibly refuse the gentleman, certainly not in front of the people present. She could not help but sigh as she place her hand in his before he leads her to the dance floor.
The music begin and Helena nerves were off the roof. She had rehearsed on how she was going to give excuses to any gentleman that asked for a dance, and now here she is.
She looked over to her mother and sister who are now in company of Lady Morribel and Lady Harrington.
"Did I do something to offend you?" Nicholas asked as he stare at her.
"What?" Helena asked in confusion. "No, why would you say that?."
"Because you are frowning."
"I assure you my Lord, you did not offend me." Helena replied coldly. "That's just how my face is." She said making a mistake of stepping on his toes.
"Pardon me. I am a terrible dancer." She apologize.
"Well, that is a first."
"What?" She asked. "Meeting a terrible dancer."
"No, meeting a lady who admits she is a terrible dancer."
Nicholas's lips quirked into a genuine smile—a rare sight in a ballroom full of practiced, empty grins.
"Most ladies would sooner claim the floor was uneven or blame their slippers for such a misstep," Nicholas said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Your honesty is as dangerous as your footwork, Miss Helena."
Helena felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she didn't look away. Instead, she tilted her head with a touch of defiance. "Then consider yourself warned, My Lord. If I am to ruin your reputation as the Ton's most eligible bachelor, I shall do it one bruised toe at a time."
Nicholas let out a sudden, short bark of a laugh that drew the eyes of several nearby mamas. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "In that case, I suppose I should be grateful we are only dancing a waltz and not something more... athletic. I should hate to see what you could do to a man during a Gallop."
Helena suppressed a smile of her own, feeling the tension that had gripped her all evening finally begin to thaw.
"Indeed," Helena replied, her chin lifting as she narrowly avoided his boot on the next turn. "You see, most debutantes spend their girlhood practicing their 'I am a delicate flower' expression in the mirror. I, however, spent mine trying to convince my governess that gravity is merely a suggestion that I choose not to follow."
Nicholas's shoulders shook with a suppressed chuckle. "A rebel against physics, then? That is a far more interesting hobby than embroidery."
"It is certainly more hazardous for my partners," she countered. As the music swelled and the tempo quickened, Helena attempted a particularly graceful pivot, only to lose her rhythm entirely. She landed heavily on his right foot once more, the sound of the impact muffled by the layers of her silk gown.
She froze, eyes wide. "Oh dear. I believe that was the same toe as before. At this rate, you shall be hobbling back to Harrington House like a wounded soldier."
Nicholas didn't just chuckle this time; he threw his head back and laughed, a bright, unbridled sound that made several neighboring couples falter in surprise.
"I assure you, Miss Helena," he gasped, his hand tightening slightly on hers to steady her, "I have survived hunting accidents and cavalry charges with less grace than you possess in your little finger. If a bruised toe is the price for the first honest conversation I have had all season, then I shall gladly limp for a week."
"Well," Helena whispered, a mischievous glint finally replacing her nervous frown, "do stay alert, My Lord. The third movement is coming up, and I haven't decided if I'm going to aim for your other foot or simply take us both down in a flurry of tulle."
Nicholas could not wipe the smile off his face as the dance came to an end. Miss Helena Beaumont is definitely a challenge he would love to unravel. "Thank you for the dance." He said as they head over to their Mothers.
Lady Harrington who was quietly monitoring her son quickly pull him aside as soon as he got to her. "You laughed."
"Is that a problem?" Nicholas asked with a frown.
"Mother is of the opinion that you like her" Benedict supplied with a devious smile on his face.
Nicholas rolled his eyes at him before turning to his mother. "I think so."
"Oh...."
"I shall like to invite both you and Lady Beaumont over for dinner at my place tomorrow evening." Lady Morribel said with a smile.
"That would be lovely." Lady Harrington quickly said.
"It would be an honor." Lady Beaumont replied.
"And so it begins." Benedict whispered to him but Nicholas eyes were only on Miss Beaumont. She was not afraid to admit her flaws like the rest of the ladies out there.
"It is settled then, we shall gather at my place for dinner." Lady Morribel said before turning to Nicholas to give him a wink.
Nicholas could only shake his head in disbelief. The woman is about to channel her inner wolf. Once Lady Morribel settle her eyes on something, she will go to anything length to see that she have that thing and in this case, it would seem that she wants Nicholas and Helena to be together.
Nicholas gave a formal bow to Lady Beaumont and Helena, his eyes lingering just a second too long on Miss Beaumont before he followed his mother, brother and Lady Morribel out of the ballroom.
"You, my dear boy shall be the reason why this season shall be lovely for me." She whispered to him making him groan as he head to his carriage.
He had always prided himself on his composure, but Lady Morribel had a way of sniffing out a man's true desires before he even realized they existed. If she had truly set her sights on a Beaumont-Harrington match, Nicholas knew he was no longer just a spectator in this London season—he was the prize.
The season had only just begun, but as the carriage pulled away into the cool London night, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a trap by Lady Morribel was already closing.