A Place To Behold

The ball was as loud and entertaining as any ball could be. Beth was reminded of the few balls her Mother had forced her to attend before giving up the idea, when she realized that Beth truly did not intend to marry. The ball was welcoming to all who loved and hated attention. The hall was large and accommodated the peers of the gentry, for as many that could visit Carlisle and grace the party. Lucy had told them that balls hosted at Carlisle Crest, home to the Duke of Carlisle, were never dull, and it was soon turning out to be shockingly true.

From the moment they arrived, the music, the dance and wine opened up to them, and Aunt Marrily wasted no time in passing them over to whichever gentleman came to ask for a dance. By the time Beth had her first drink for the night, she had danced with six different bachelors and her feet were starting to hurt.

She quickly escaped her partner as soon as the song was done, and retreated to the wall to gain back her composure, standing, hiding, and silently watching Lucy and Gwen dance with their respective partners, laughing gaily and enjoying themselves. Although Lucy looked quite tired as well, she seemed to be having the time of her life in the arms of Lord D’Averette who looked equally besotted. Aunt Marrily was right. He might very much propose in the near future.

Beth drank from her glass and savoured the taste; the sparkling red liquid bubbled down her throat and set her senses aflame. It was a good wine. Taking another sip, she caught a young rogue smiling at her, and swiftly she turned away. She had danced enough. She continued to watch her cousin and her sister dance. When Lucy met her eyes, she toasted with an almost empty glass. Lucy’s smile brightened. When she saw her Aunt approaching her, she quickly stood up straight, as a lady should. “You shouldn’t be standing so still by the wall, dear. No one will ask you to dance with them.” Aunt began as soon as she arrived. They clicked glasses.

Beth angled her head. That was precisely what she wanted, but Aunt Marrily would never let her hear the last of it if she dared to utter such words in this sacred place of male and female gathering. “I'm just tired. I thought to enjoy the view for a moment before I become a part of it once more.” She whispered to the hearing of the older woman.

Her Aunt gave a satisfied smile. “Excellent. Let me know if you need help getting to a man and I will come swiftly to your rescue.”

I know you would. Keeping up her smile, she said, “Of course Aunt, you would be the first to know.” She exhaled when her Aunt left to greet the other ladies. Rhetorically, she asked her Aunt’s shadow. “I cannot escape you, can I?”

“Of course you can’t. She is just too determined.” Gwen said from behind.

Beth turned, a bit startled. Her face soon smoothened out. “How was your dance? Trust you enjoyed every bit of the twists and turns?” She drank from her wine.

Gwen chuckled. “Indeed, I did. It was simply wonderful.” A server walked by, Gwen helped herself to a glass of wine while Beth switched her almost empty glass for another one. “I wish Sir Princeton would ask me to dance again, he’s quite the dancer.”

“Would you rather ask him to dance?” She dared her sister.

Gwen looked appalled. “And appear too forward? Never!” She sipped. “You are one to give such counsel when you would rather be thrown and forgotten in a library than be here.”

“Still, here I stand.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Besides, I don’t want him to misjudge me; he should rather seek to woo me.” She smiled. “That would be fully amazing.”

“Woo you? You danced with him but once.” Lucy smiled in their direction and they smiled back, Gwen inclined her head and saluted with her glass like Beth had done earlier. “And already you want him to pursue you? Do pull back on the reins, Sister.”

She patted down her perfect skirt and smiled brightly. “I am not all concerned about the part to pursue me; for now, another dance is all I wish. He’s a wonderful man.” Her eyes searched for someone in the crowd, when it rested on Sir Princeton, her smile grew brighter.

Beth stared at her younger sister puzzled at her absurd thoughts towards marriage and men. It never occurred to her that Gwen would ever think to marry; she was scared for her and feared that the past would one day seek to hurt her. Her eyes found Lucy in the crowd and came back to settle on Gwen. Circling her forefinger over the rim of her wine glass, she started. “Earlier in Lucy’s room, you said you believed in love.”

Gwen turned to her, eyes glistening. “Yes, and I still do, even more so at this moment.” The tempo of the music rose and the crowd hailed and clapped in response, the dance becoming faster than before. It fell in tune with the music. Lucy switched her partner mid-dance, obeying the rules of the dance. Sir Princeton was standing on the other side of the room. He waved at Gwen, and she smiled in response, nodding her head to the beat. “I still believe in love.”

Beth noticed the exchange. “I hope you are not deluded to think yourself in love with Sir Princeton?”

Gwen was displeased. “I am not a child to think myself in love after one dance. But I know love is out there and someday, it will find me, taking me by force.” She smiled again.

“How? Why? After Cossington I would believe otherwise.” Beth couldn’t understand her sister in the slightest. Gwen took Beth’s glass and placed both on the table beside them.

“And you do.” Gwen held her sister’s hand. “I know the reason you are so against marriage in theory and in practice. I know why you hate the littlest idea of it. I know that it is because of what happened between Lord Cossington and me.”

“Then why are you alright with the idea? I can’t fathom the reason behind your thoughts.”

Gwen exhaled. “I was wronged and so was the entire family, but if it sours my heart towards marriage, a home, and the slightest possibility of love and happiness, then he has most definitely won, and I refuse to give him that victory.” She said, clutching Beth’s hands.

“So you would rather force yourself to love?”

Gwen sighed. “You misconstrue my words.”

No, she didn’t. Beth tightened their hold on each other. “Don’t you ever think about it?” She stared into her sister’s eyes. “For it is all I can think about.”

Gwen shook her head. “Many a night I stay up wondering what my life would have been like if he had married me.” She breathed out. “I'm reminded of his rejection and his crude and shameful alliance, and the thought of giving up and crying surfaces.” She smiled again. “But then I think of Mother and Father, Aunt Marrily and Uncle Fitzwilliam. Marriage can’t be all that bad, Beth. Somewhere, it has to be good.”

Beth let go. “Good or bad, I want no part in it.”

They bowed at passing gentry. “You would rather live and die an old maid, unfulfilled, alone at Westside Manor?”

“No. I would live, taking care of our parents and die an old gentlewoman. Peaceful and somewhat fulfilled. Marriage alone doesn’t give fulfilment.”

“Quite the dream you’ve got there Beth.” A server offered his tray, and Gwen picked up a wine glass. Beth declined. “I would rather you think again, for I am looking up to you to seal my faith in marriage.” She gave a mischievous smile. “It is no secret now.”

Beth laughed. “You best look elsewhere dear; I won’t wed, no matter what our family says.”

She slurped. “You should think again, Mother is determined to get you a husband before the year ends and as it seems, so does Aunt Marrily. Look.” She gestured with a jerk of her head. “She comes again with another set of gentlemen, ever eager to play matchmaker.” Beth turned. “I hope you are wearing your dancing shoes.” She added, replacing the smile on her face.