I removed my hat and scratched the back of my head, watching the young lady's skirts disappear through the door. A small knot of uneasiness began tightening in my stomach; No matter what sort of light I tried to put the sudden situation in, the expression on her face wasn't a good sign. I just might've already blown my cover. And in only within the first hour of arriving!
"Perhaps," Charles gave a cautious mutter and twisted the end of his orange mustache, "We should save the discussing for the walls of my home."
"Agreed," I muttered.
Shortly afterwards, we moved back into the midst of the celebration, trying to look less suspicious than we must've appeared out on our own. Charles walked beside me, trying to find a decent party for us to converse with while at the same time trying to not look the leader. Such behavoir would make me appear dependent--something we didn't want in the Elliot Samuelson image.
"Oh, look," he finally said, discreetly pointing towards a group of people at the back of the dance hall. They were dressed about as richly as I was with their pressed suits and glittering jewlery. They had shawls, cravats, polished buttons, laced gloves--the only attire they didn't seem to be wearing was a smile. In fact, a good part of them were watching their surroundings with a critical scowl as if refusing such an indulgence.
"The Evans," Charles continued, "They'd be a good family to be aquainted with."
"If for social reasons only," I smirked, "They have the good humor of an abandoned graveyard."
Charles shook his head with a chuckle and then began to manuever through the crowd again. I was just moving to join him when I heard someone loudly clear their throat behind me. I turned back to see a greying man with two young ladies. Charles, seeing that I had stopped, turned around as well. An open grin quickly leapt to his face.
"Mr. Ainsworth," he said, shaking the stranger's hand.
The man smiled in relief at the familiar face of a friend, "Evening Mr. Lettington. May I introduce my daughters to your dear cousin here?"
"Of course," I said easily, offering him a handshake as well. At that, the two ladies giggled and I smiled, amused by their blushing reactions.
"Unfortunetly, my eldest daughter is already dancing," their father began, "But, Mr. Samuelson, this is Miss Minevera Ainsworth, the closest to her in age."
Minevera looked up at me with her green eyes and gave a confident smile. Her fair hair moved slightly when she curtsied and I smiled, bowing in return.
"This is my third daughter Miss Henrietta Ainsworth," he continued. Appearance wise, the youngest was nearly opposite of her sister with dark hair and eyes. However, she had a bold smile and curtsied almost with a bounce. Both girls were pretty and I doubted them sitting out many dances.
With another smile, I offered her a bow to her as well, "It is a great pleasure to meet all of you."
"You as well," they grinned in unison. The father smiled a little self-conciously and moved to escort them away.
I couldn't help but laugh a little myself at their swooning. I'd been so focused on trying to look like fifteen thousand pounds part of my image that I'd nearly forgotten the bachelor side of it. I then decided to slightly indulge the latter and, when the sisters looked back over shoulders one last time, pulled a sly wink.
That, of course, sent them giggling and blushing all over again. My cousin rolled his eyes at me and then nodded back towards the Evans family. Laughing softly to myself, I obeyed.
We went through the common greetings and introductions within the circle. Apparently the Evans family consisted of a father, mother, and their single daughter Miss Charolette. They mentioned a brother who was off on some other business but such trivial facts I only remembered for the length of the conversation. And, once I had finished assuring them of the good health of the Samuelsons--which I certainly hoped to be true--that length didn't last long. Everyone fell into a dull silence. However, the self-importance of these people made it was obvious that these people were the type that would maintain the reputation Charles had previously built up for me. While they're mouths were silent, I could tell their thoughts were rampant, critiquing just about any individual that passed by. It seemed they saw everyone as a lesser human being than themselves. Everyone, that is, except for me and my fictional income. Though I didn't agree with their narrow perspective, I got the idea that being accepted by this family would continue to establish my standing in the citizen's minds.
It was with these thoughts that I turned to their fair-skinned daughter.
"Miss Evans," I said with an gracious smile and a polite bow, "May I have the honor of having the next dance with you?"
A cold smile uncurled on her lips and she bowed in turn, "You may."
"Perhaps," Charles gave a cautious mutter and twisted the end of his orange mustache, "We should save the discussing for the walls of my home."
"Agreed," I muttered.
Shortly afterwards, we moved back into the midst of the celebration, trying to look less suspicious than we must've appeared out on our own. Charles walked beside me, trying to find a decent party for us to converse with while at the same time trying to not look the leader. Such behavoir would make me appear dependent--something we didn't want in the Elliot Samuelson image.
"Oh, look," he finally said, discreetly pointing towards a group of people at the back of the dance hall. They were dressed about as richly as I was with their pressed suits and glittering jewlery. They had shawls, cravats, polished buttons, laced gloves--the only attire they didn't seem to be wearing was a smile. In fact, a good part of them were watching their surroundings with a critical scowl as if refusing such an indulgence.
"The Evans," Charles continued, "They'd be a good family to be aquainted with."
"If for social reasons only," I smirked, "They have the good humor of an abandoned graveyard."
Charles shook his head with a chuckle and then began to manuever through the crowd again. I was just moving to join him when I heard someone loudly clear their throat behind me. I turned back to see a greying man with two young ladies. Charles, seeing that I had stopped, turned around as well. An open grin quickly leapt to his face.
"Mr. Ainsworth," he said, shaking the stranger's hand.
The man smiled in relief at the familiar face of a friend, "Evening Mr. Lettington. May I introduce my daughters to your dear cousin here?"
"Of course," I said easily, offering him a handshake as well. At that, the two ladies giggled and I smiled, amused by their blushing reactions.
"Unfortunetly, my eldest daughter is already dancing," their father began, "But, Mr. Samuelson, this is Miss Minevera Ainsworth, the closest to her in age."
Minevera looked up at me with her green eyes and gave a confident smile. Her fair hair moved slightly when she curtsied and I smiled, bowing in return.
"This is my third daughter Miss Henrietta Ainsworth," he continued. Appearance wise, the youngest was nearly opposite of her sister with dark hair and eyes. However, she had a bold smile and curtsied almost with a bounce. Both girls were pretty and I doubted them sitting out many dances.
With another smile, I offered her a bow to her as well, "It is a great pleasure to meet all of you."
"You as well," they grinned in unison. The father smiled a little self-conciously and moved to escort them away.
I couldn't help but laugh a little myself at their swooning. I'd been so focused on trying to look like fifteen thousand pounds part of my image that I'd nearly forgotten the bachelor side of it. I then decided to slightly indulge the latter and, when the sisters looked back over shoulders one last time, pulled a sly wink.
That, of course, sent them giggling and blushing all over again. My cousin rolled his eyes at me and then nodded back towards the Evans family. Laughing softly to myself, I obeyed.
We went through the common greetings and introductions within the circle. Apparently the Evans family consisted of a father, mother, and their single daughter Miss Charolette. They mentioned a brother who was off on some other business but such trivial facts I only remembered for the length of the conversation. And, once I had finished assuring them of the good health of the Samuelsons--which I certainly hoped to be true--that length didn't last long. Everyone fell into a dull silence. However, the self-importance of these people made it was obvious that these people were the type that would maintain the reputation Charles had previously built up for me. While they're mouths were silent, I could tell their thoughts were rampant, critiquing just about any individual that passed by. It seemed they saw everyone as a lesser human being than themselves. Everyone, that is, except for me and my fictional income. Though I didn't agree with their narrow perspective, I got the idea that being accepted by this family would continue to establish my standing in the citizen's minds.
It was with these thoughts that I turned to their fair-skinned daughter.
"Miss Evans," I said with an gracious smile and a polite bow, "May I have the honor of having the next dance with you?"
A cold smile uncurled on her lips and she bowed in turn, "You may."
***
I faced her as the playful orchestra picked up another string of music. Most of her auburn hair was pinned back with a few thick curls falling gracefully over her shoulder. She had smooth, almost intimidating features which made her both attractive and authorative. But I had no plans of cowering under either trait. The last thing I wanted to do was become a fumbling, apologetic partner. No, if anything I would just have to become just as authorative as her if not more. I couldn't let myself appear weak because, as far as these people were concerned, I was flawless. And a noticed weakness seemed to spread faster in the lines of gossip than an obvious strength.
From my observations tonight, I was confident I had learned a dependable tactic for such a feat. It was to take notice of the mannerisms of those around you and enhance them. When around giggly girls, smile and wink. When around aquaintces of aristocracy, address and bow. When in Rome, do as the Romans.
It only took that small moment before the actual dance began to observe enough of Miss Evan's solemn characteristics to get a good idea of my own behavior. I started by mirroring her serious expression as we stepped forward and took hands. It was a challenge not to burst out in laughter at how ridiculous it felt, but thankfully my knack for acting--developed through a childhood of covering up--came to the rescue.
It only took that small moment before the actual dance began to observe enough of Miss Evan's solemn characteristics to get a good idea of my own behavior. I started by mirroring her serious expression as we stepped forward and took hands. It was a challenge not to burst out in laughter at how ridiculous it felt, but thankfully my knack for acting--developed through a childhood of covering up--came to the rescue.
"Do you come to these balls often?" I asked in a sophisticated tone.
She hardly glanced my direction, "Yes. When it's convenient."
I gave a subtle nod and kept my chin slightly up, holding back a subtle smirk. Convenient? It was a nice subsitute for favorable-to-her-high-maitenence-taste.
"And what of you?"she asked, "Now that you will be staying here, do you plan on attending any more festivities?"
I allowed a smug smile in her direction and chose an answer I thought might satisfy her vanity, "It would depend on the host. And, of course, the attendents. If there are enough tolerable families such as your own I just might."
This time her expression mirrored mine. I could tell I had tolerably impressed her now, though I wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or disapointed. There wasn't much time for a decision however, as we were then seperated according to the dance formation and had to switch places with other dancers. I wasn't entirely experienced in these new forms but I had decided that it couldn't be too hard if one followed the person in front of them.
Once we were a few people apart, I glanced her direction, trying to capture a different side to her character. Perhaps she'd look a little relieved from the pressure of her partner--as I did--or smile over at a friend. Not much to my surprise, though, she did something completely different. Going up on her toes, she began searching the crowd for familiar faces. By the time she had their attentions, it was time for us to rejoin. And, just like that, she had caught the envy of a fourth of the dance hall.
I wanted to scowl. Maybe even send apologetic glances to every other lady in the room. But the eyes of some curious parents burned into the back of my head so I kept up my brooding arisocrat face instead.
"Was your journey pleasant?" she asked, her tone warming.
I decided to keep a balance of friendliness and authority in my answer, "There was room for improvement. But it was pleasant enough. Do you like it here?"
"I'm terribly exhausted of my parents' house," she said and I pretended to not catch the hint, "But the natural splendor of the place is most admirable."
Then, unsure whether I had really heard the first part, she added, "Of course, my father has very high expectations for whomever I marry so I may remain in that house until I am an old maid."
This time the smirk couldn't be restrained. But I managed to turn it into more of a friendly smile by the time she looked back over at me. The only response I could think to satisfy her with was, "I doubt that possibility madam."
Finally, just when I had run out of dull conversation topics and thought my frown might finally give way if she spouted out any other high-and-mighty remark, the dance ended. I bowed, she curtsied, and then I escorted her back to her family. She cordially thanked me, her face glowing for all other ladies to see. I thanked her in turn and then Charles and I moved on.
I danced with several more ladies that night, trying my best to play my game peices in the most charming and strategic way I could: laughing here, complimenting there. Winking to some, smiling at others. Charles said to make sure I left a good impression on them since they would likely report to their parents but I will admit that, more often than not, I was having too much fun to think about such purposes.
As for the gentlemen, I joked enough to get an entire circle laughing and then listened with feigned interest as they spoke of sports and topics which I knew next to nothing of. By the end of the night, I was contented to have made a fair-sized foundation of new friends. Some of which even offered to take me hunting--a chore that I'd never seen as a leisure until I arrived here.
Finally, though, the fun ended and after a good amount of dances and conversations, my cousin muttered something about meeing someone else of importance.
"Was your journey pleasant?" she asked, her tone warming.
I decided to keep a balance of friendliness and authority in my answer, "There was room for improvement. But it was pleasant enough. Do you like it here?"
"I'm terribly exhausted of my parents' house," she said and I pretended to not catch the hint, "But the natural splendor of the place is most admirable."
Then, unsure whether I had really heard the first part, she added, "Of course, my father has very high expectations for whomever I marry so I may remain in that house until I am an old maid."
This time the smirk couldn't be restrained. But I managed to turn it into more of a friendly smile by the time she looked back over at me. The only response I could think to satisfy her with was, "I doubt that possibility madam."
Finally, just when I had run out of dull conversation topics and thought my frown might finally give way if she spouted out any other high-and-mighty remark, the dance ended. I bowed, she curtsied, and then I escorted her back to her family. She cordially thanked me, her face glowing for all other ladies to see. I thanked her in turn and then Charles and I moved on.
I danced with several more ladies that night, trying my best to play my game peices in the most charming and strategic way I could: laughing here, complimenting there. Winking to some, smiling at others. Charles said to make sure I left a good impression on them since they would likely report to their parents but I will admit that, more often than not, I was having too much fun to think about such purposes.
As for the gentlemen, I joked enough to get an entire circle laughing and then listened with feigned interest as they spoke of sports and topics which I knew next to nothing of. By the end of the night, I was contented to have made a fair-sized foundation of new friends. Some of which even offered to take me hunting--a chore that I'd never seen as a leisure until I arrived here.
Finally, though, the fun ended and after a good amount of dances and conversations, my cousin muttered something about meeing someone else of importance.
"Mr. Ainsworth," he said as we made our way back through the hall, "I know you've already met him but I forgot that he wanted to speak to you of the estate."
The estate. The whole purpose I was in this silly charade.
"What does he have to do with it?" I asked curiously, having imagined a different, more prominent looking owner to such a prostigeous property.
"He's the banker,"Charles replied, "The real owner of the estate you'll have to meet later."
We soon met up with him again and he told me that he had all the paper work ready for me and that all I needed to do was show up to his house the next morning. After this news, he politely left to locate his daughters--two of which I was sure would be more excited about the minor event than myself.
Little did I know how the eldest would react.
No comments:
Post a Comment