Page 76 of Seduced by an Irresistible Lady
Dr Frederick nodded his acknowledgement. He wore the jacket and straightened it against his shirt. His breeches were black. On gauging himself in the mirror, Dr Frederick was pleased. He did look rather handsome. Dr Frederick, contented with his appearance for the outing, walked out of his room. He looked at the arrangement of his reading room and walked past, satisfied with its neatness.
Dr Frederick went into the coach and tapped Mister Frank at the back. Mister Frank, who served as the coach driver, tapped the horses with his stick. The trip to Miss Morgana’s ball started. Dr Frederick busied himself with practice of what to say and how to appropriately ask a lady to dance if not given a partner by the master of ceremonies. His imagination worked hard enough that it seemed no more like a few moments later when Mister Frank told him they were almost there.
“Already?” Dr Frederick asked.
“Yes sir, it’s not so distant from our house, just about forty-five minutes away with a good horse and a carriage with sound wheels. It would have taken me less than half an hour if you were in a rush,” Mister Frank said.
Dr Frederick saw many vehicles at the sides of the house. It was a big house, so big that Dr Frederick wondered if Miss Morgana owned it.
“Frank, do you have an idea of who owns this house in which the party is holding?”
“No sir, I am not privy to information of that sort. I do suspect, just as I think you also do, that Miss Morgana couldn’t possibly own such a gigantic structure. It’s probably one of her many lovers, I presume,” Mister Frank said.
Dr Frederick nodded, inwardly agreeing with the opinions of his dresser. He waited till the coach was perfectly still before alighting.
“Find a lovely spot to park the coach and join me inside, Frank. But do make yourself available as these parties can be notoriously tiring, and I would not like to search all over for you when I intend to leave,” Dr Frederick said.
Mister Frank gave a solemn reply and rode the coach on, in search of where to harbour the vehicle.
Dr Frederick walked into the open door and met a crowd. He was aware he wasn’t early but hadn’t expected so many people at a private ball.
How many people did this woman invite?
He walked in between people, snuggling and pushing till he came to the big door at the end of the room. It was open and led to a hall that was surprisingly big and spacious. Dr Frederick reasoned that it would also fill in a short while, but one could at least enjoy a dance with a willing damsel. People were already dancing. The lady of the day must have already had her dance, Dr Frederick opined. Dr Frederick walked by the edge of the dance set, skirting duos and trios of ladies who spoke rather loudly.
I can’t still understand why balls are always noisy affairs.
Dr Frederick walked to the tail of the dance.
“It will be easier to find a willing partner here,” he said to himself.
He looked at the end of the hall, and just in front of the playing instrumentalists, he saw a handsome man speaking to some stewards.
That’s probably the master of ceremonies.
Two young women suddenly walked in front of him, threatening to step on his shoes in their careless bustle. Dr Frederick swore under his breath and took two steps back, unwilling to allow them to invade his space. He tried not to listen to their gossip, but their voices were too loud and energy too enchanting for him not to be interested.
“I hear the Duke of Cornwall will soon be here,” the first chit said.
She was taller but younger. Her skin was sallow, not quite as bright as the other woman’s skin, and despite her greater youth, she wasn’t as handsome as the shorter woman. Dr Frederick noticed she wasn’t settled and kept stretching her neck.
That is surely a failing attempt to see the head of the dance.
“Oh dear me, I pray a quickening of his horses as I shall not tarry here for too long,” the shorter damsel replied.
“Why? Where do you plan to run off to?”
“I cannot be seen by Miss Morgana, and you do know how sharp her eyes are,” the shorter one said.
“They are?”
“An owl could not lay claim to such discerning eyes. She would force me to join her train which is not necessarily a bad thing as she has privileges very few women enjoy.”
“If I were you, I would throw myself to the head of the dance where it is a surety that she lays her eyes on me,” the taller one replied evidently taken by the promise of privileged enjoyment.
“I worry for what would be said of me if I am spotted among women of such moral paucity. She’s not one for which one could spare kind words, you know,” she said, nudging her friend to look to her.
“Well said, Bethany, and women in this town are said to have tongues sharper than knives,” her taller friend responded.
