Love in Three-Quarter Time by Dina Sleiman

by Mrs. Beaumont to the side of the huge ballroom, eager to observe the performance.
    As Molly struck the first chords, Constance nodded to the dashing Mr. Beaumont. His brown eyes twinkled beneath his gray hair. He bowed, and she curtseyed to him. Then he swiveled a quarter turn and offered his hand in the air for Constance to rest hers upon.
    As they proceeded through the gliding steps, Constance added her own special flair as she’d learned so well from Mademoiselle Cartier. The extra light brush of her toe, the gentle slope of her pinky finger, the tilt of her head to accent each
pas de bourrée
.
    As she released Mr. Beaumont’s hand to perform a circular pattern, she passed close enough by the women to catch snippets of their whispers.
    â€œSo high on her toes.”
    â€œLovely posture.”
    And even, “How does she achieve that shape with her hands?”
    She joined Mr. Beaumont for a spin in the center. A few inches taller than most women, Constance considered herself the perfect height for dancing. She could see into her partner’s eyes without craning her neck and fit nicely into any hold. In fact, she and the small Mr. Beaumont were of a similar stature.
    Molly played with skill, and before long, Constance lost herself in the lovely strains. She no longer labored over technique and steps, but floated through the dance upon a cloud of music, entering the magic of the moment. The room turned a blur of color and light, gold walls swirling with garnet curtains and blue horizon.
    Time slipped away, and she danced.
    As she took her final curtsey, boisterous applause erupted from the room, waking her from the trance. Even Mr. Beaumont next to her clapped and called out, “Bravo!”
    Mrs. Beaumont rushed to Constance and took her hands. “Your mother spoke the truth in her letter, my dear. No doubt you had all the young bucks of Prince George County under your spell.”
    The girls joined the group and bounced clumsily about them. “We must hire her, Mummy.”
    â€œOh, please.”
    Constance must learn to tell them apart. For now they would be the girl in the pink and the girl in the blue.
    Mr. Beaumont gave a final clap. “I’ve never seen such divine dancing.”
    â€œNow, now.” Mrs. Beaumont fluttered her hand and giggled. “Girls, do settle. Mr. Beaumont, I agree she is divine. But good dancing does not necessarily translate to good teaching, and I retain my reservation about hiring a female. I say we give her a week’s trial. Today is Saturday. Next week we shall hold a small party for a few neighbors to see what she’s done with the girls. Then we shall decide.”
    One week to whip these gawky, heavy-footed young ladies into shape. They seemed pleasant enough to work with but moved like farm girls from what she’d seen thus far. “Oh Mrs. Beaumont, I shall do my utmost. But ballet training requires months, years even, to take effect.”
    â€œWell, then we must hurry, for I’ve already scheduled their coming out ball for August, just a few weeks after their sixteenth birthday. It’s to be accompanied by a picnic, an all-day event. We’ll have guests from several counties.”
    However could Constance get these girls ready for a party in one week? This was April! How could she prepare them to enter society in a mere four months? The schedule would not allow her as much time as she wished to make acquaintances in Charlottesville either.
    She simply must rise to the occasion and work with all due haste. If only she could be delivered from the distracting presence of one Mr. Robert Montgomery, she might find a way to manage.
    * * *
    Thankfully, being so far in the country, the Beaumonts did not dress for dinner. They’d invited her to eat with the family along with the overseer, and she would need her one evening gown next week. For now she’d changed into a fresh, white muslin dress with a scooped neck.