friend, and I am going to get you through this night. Do you understand?"
She spoke to me like I was a toddler. The shock of it all had worn off, so I found myself speaking before my mind could filter the words. "Excuse me. I might not remember my own best friend, but I certainly understand English and do not need you to treat me like a dimwit."
Her eyes lit up and she nodded. "Brilliant. You're going to be just fine. Let's take a turn about the room."
Through the next half hour, Amelia truly lived up to her title as my best friend. She showed me whom to avoid, whom to speak loudly to, who was blind, and whom I should never dance with, ever. Thankfully, it hadn't begun yet, and I felt a little anxious, like I was at my first prom wondering if anyone would ask me.
"Where are our dance cards?"
"Excuse me? What are you talking about?" she asked distractedly.
"You know! Where the guy, er, gentleman assigns himself a dance on a little card." Holding up my fingers, I made a little box shape. It sounded stupid to my own ears, but I knew my Regency books. All the girls had those kind of cards. I wanted mine.
"We don't have dance cards," she explained slowly, as if questioning my ability to understand once again.
"Why not?" I asked, feeling oddly disappointed.
"Well, why would we?" Looking heavenward, she sighed delicately and explained, "If a gentleman asks for a dance, you have to accept, but he may only dance with you twice. Therefore, dance cards are not needed, unless you cannot remember five minutes past." She gave me a pointed look that ended with a grin.
I gave her a small sarcastic laugh but grinned at the end.
"Thank you, but I actually remembered the only two dance rule."
"Shocking." She grinned as she spoke.
"But what if the gentleman asking has rotten teeth or something of the like, and I do not wish to dance with him?" I whispered.
"If you refuse, which you will not do, then you forfeit all activities for the rest of the evening."
Super.
"Do I get asked quite often?" I wondered, mostly to myself, but Amelia answered anyway.
"Of course! But don't be surprised if most of them are fortune hunters. You'll be complaining to me later about your sore feet before the evening ends." Her eyes were full of joy as she willed me to share in her memories — memories I would never remember.
I had been so busy beholding the scene in front of me that I hadn't taken a moment to study Amelia. She was beautiful, with ebony hair and long, sooty eyelashes. Her eyes were a gentle brown and her skin was creamy white. She reminded me of a fairy, shorter than me but with a large attitude. Her confidence was contagious, and I knew our friendship was authentic by her easy smile and her solid determination to help me.
"What?" she asked, sensing my perusal.
"Nothing, just…" What was the word? "Woolgathering, I guess." Thank you, my many regency novels for the vocabulary you've provided.
The orchestra started to play, and I saw people clear the floor as they took their conversations to the edge of the ballroom.
"Miss Westin?"
Turning, I looked up, and up. "Yes?" I replied to the giant.
"Miss Westin, may I have the honor?"
My mouth said, "Of course," but my mind was wondering how I was going to dance with Goliath.
The first set was a reel and turned out to be manageable as the Viscount Mayerton, I discovered, was quite graceful. Winded, I was thankful he offered to fetch me some punch as soon as our set ended. All that movement in a corset was not for the faint of heart.
Staying by Amelia's side, I turned to ask her a question when I saw her glance behind me and widen her eyes. Stopping mid-breath, I turned around to see the proverbial rake heading my direction. Though never being one to fall for the bad boy vibe, I had to admit I was tempted to walk on the wild side with this one. His walk was more of a masculine strut that was highlighted by his form-fitting black pants. His jacket hugged his shoulders and the crispness
She spoke to me like I was a toddler. The shock of it all had worn off, so I found myself speaking before my mind could filter the words. "Excuse me. I might not remember my own best friend, but I certainly understand English and do not need you to treat me like a dimwit."
Her eyes lit up and she nodded. "Brilliant. You're going to be just fine. Let's take a turn about the room."
Through the next half hour, Amelia truly lived up to her title as my best friend. She showed me whom to avoid, whom to speak loudly to, who was blind, and whom I should never dance with, ever. Thankfully, it hadn't begun yet, and I felt a little anxious, like I was at my first prom wondering if anyone would ask me.
"Where are our dance cards?"
"Excuse me? What are you talking about?" she asked distractedly.
"You know! Where the guy, er, gentleman assigns himself a dance on a little card." Holding up my fingers, I made a little box shape. It sounded stupid to my own ears, but I knew my Regency books. All the girls had those kind of cards. I wanted mine.
"We don't have dance cards," she explained slowly, as if questioning my ability to understand once again.
"Why not?" I asked, feeling oddly disappointed.
"Well, why would we?" Looking heavenward, she sighed delicately and explained, "If a gentleman asks for a dance, you have to accept, but he may only dance with you twice. Therefore, dance cards are not needed, unless you cannot remember five minutes past." She gave me a pointed look that ended with a grin.
I gave her a small sarcastic laugh but grinned at the end.
"Thank you, but I actually remembered the only two dance rule."
"Shocking." She grinned as she spoke.
"But what if the gentleman asking has rotten teeth or something of the like, and I do not wish to dance with him?" I whispered.
"If you refuse, which you will not do, then you forfeit all activities for the rest of the evening."
Super.
"Do I get asked quite often?" I wondered, mostly to myself, but Amelia answered anyway.
"Of course! But don't be surprised if most of them are fortune hunters. You'll be complaining to me later about your sore feet before the evening ends." Her eyes were full of joy as she willed me to share in her memories — memories I would never remember.
I had been so busy beholding the scene in front of me that I hadn't taken a moment to study Amelia. She was beautiful, with ebony hair and long, sooty eyelashes. Her eyes were a gentle brown and her skin was creamy white. She reminded me of a fairy, shorter than me but with a large attitude. Her confidence was contagious, and I knew our friendship was authentic by her easy smile and her solid determination to help me.
"What?" she asked, sensing my perusal.
"Nothing, just…" What was the word? "Woolgathering, I guess." Thank you, my many regency novels for the vocabulary you've provided.
The orchestra started to play, and I saw people clear the floor as they took their conversations to the edge of the ballroom.
"Miss Westin?"
Turning, I looked up, and up. "Yes?" I replied to the giant.
"Miss Westin, may I have the honor?"
My mouth said, "Of course," but my mind was wondering how I was going to dance with Goliath.
The first set was a reel and turned out to be manageable as the Viscount Mayerton, I discovered, was quite graceful. Winded, I was thankful he offered to fetch me some punch as soon as our set ended. All that movement in a corset was not for the faint of heart.
Staying by Amelia's side, I turned to ask her a question when I saw her glance behind me and widen her eyes. Stopping mid-breath, I turned around to see the proverbial rake heading my direction. Though never being one to fall for the bad boy vibe, I had to admit I was tempted to walk on the wild side with this one. His walk was more of a masculine strut that was highlighted by his form-fitting black pants. His jacket hugged his shoulders and the crispness
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