Page 48 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer
‘This way, sir, madam.’ A man in livery bowed to them, and then held out his arm, pointing towards the back of the entrance hall. ‘The ball is being held outside.’
‘Outside…’ Paul whispered, his eyebrows rising, as they followed the trail of guests walking across the hall.
Ellen smiled, wondering where on earth the ball was to be held. It was warm but the weather had been temperamental for weeks.What if it rained?
‘This way, please.’ Another footman held out a hand, directing the guests towards a narrow door.
As they stepped outside into a small cobbled stable-yard, she could hear music and conversation and laughter.
Another man in livery directed them towards a long building; the tall, wide, arched doorways made it look like a coach house.
A servant held a door open for guests to pass through.
Inside, the building looked nothing like a coach house. The walls were papered with an ivy print, there was a wooden floor for dancing upon, and the room was illuminated by hundreds of candles in the chandeliers hanging from the ceilings.
The music she had heard outside was a jig. When she passed through the crowd talking about the edges of the room with Paul, she saw the soldiers of the Highlanders Regiment in their kilts, dancing about and leaping over their swords.
She looked at Paul as he glanced at her. ‘A worthy entertainment,’ he said. ‘But do not expect to see me dancing about a rifle to amuse you.’
She laughed.
‘Come, let us find a drink and others we know.’
It was an exclusive company they walked through. Paul acknowledged several people and introduced her to a few. Then he whispered, ‘The Duke of Wellington,’ as he leaned towards her.
‘Oh.’ She turned and looked. The Duke of Wellington stood across the room speaking with a number of women.
‘And there is the Duke of Brunswick.’ Paul nodded in another direction. Her gaze turned to the second commander. She knew Paul revered these men.
‘Sir Thomas Picton is here too, look.’
She did. They all meant very little to her, but they were the men who would be responsible for making the right choices to keep Paul alive.
She looked at him. ‘Do you hope for promotion if the Allied army wins?’
He smiled. ‘I would not be averse to it.’
‘Then I will one day be a Colonel’s wife.’ She proudly tilted up her chin. After their conversation in the park, neither of them had spoken of the possibility he might die. They were denying it. Ellen was glad.
‘You may hope.’ His smile filled with warmth.
‘Do you think my father might receive us then?’
‘I would need to be a General and have earned myself a dukedom like Wellington for your father to accept me.’
She faced him as the music changed tempo and the Highlanders cleared the floor, and searched for partners among the women.
‘Dance with me, Captain Harding, before anyone else might spot us and ask me.’
‘Of course, Mrs Harding.’ With that she was swept away into a waltz. The dance was its most beautiful when she danced it with her husband, holding his gaze and feeling the gentle pressure of his hands as they spun. She was glad they had come to this ball. This night felt precious. She would hold on to the memory of it – of dancing in a room amongst Paul’s heroes.
When the dance came to its conclusion, Captain Montgomery appeared beside them and held out his hand. ‘May I claim the next, ma’am?’
She smiled and agreed, though as she moved away she looked back over her shoulder at Paul. It wrenched her heart to walk away from him. ‘Have fun,’ he mouthed. She did not feel as though she could have fun without him. But then she remembered Captain Montgomery would be fighting soon too, so she focused her attention on him. He deserved that much when he might never dance again.
He smiled at her over-brightly, not at all his usual jovial self.
When the dance ended, the lieutenant colonel came to ask for her hand. He could not play cards here, as there were no card tables because the ball was only in this one long coach house. She even felt more disposed to be kind to him. After all, everyone was at risk on a battlefield, and he was not so bad, he was polite when he did speak to her. It was just his constant stares she did not like. As they danced, she looked across his shoulder, while his gaze seemed to hover on the curve of her jaw and her neck.
