Page 14 of The Earl's Demure Spinster
He made his way to a quieter part of the ballroom, where he could gather his thoughts. The strains of the music continued, mixing in with the chatter and laughter of the guests. Wesley leaned against a column, taking a deep breath to steady himself. How on earth was he going to get through this if his mother kept pushing him in a direction that he did not wish to go?
As he stood, he found his eyes drifting back towards the beautiful woman who had intrigued him while he was dancing before. Now that was someone he would not mind speaking with and potentially even getting to know a little better. Since she was still standing beside Lady Grace, he thought it might be the perfect time for him to get introduced to her properly without any distractions racing through his mind.
Resolute in his decision because he needed to do something for himself, Wesley straightened and began making his way towards Lady Grace and her companion. Anticipation quickened his steps for it had been a long time since he had been so excited to meet someone. Reaching them, he bowed politely to Lady Grace.
“Lady Grace, it is always a pleasure to see you,” Wesley greeted, his voice warm and sincere. “I have come to compliment you again on this fabulous evening. What a soiree!”
Lady Grace smiled, her eyes twinkling with recognition. “Lord Wesley, how delightful to see you this evening. I am so grateful to hear that you are enjoying yourself so. Of course, you already know my niece, Lady Sylvia.”
Lady Sylvia curtsied gracefully, her eyes meeting Wesley’s with a hint of curiosity. “It is a pleasure to see you, Lord Wesley.”
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Sylvia,” Wesley replied, bowing slightly. Bravery got the better of him, and before he could even think about what he was doing, words came spilling out of his mouth. “Might I have the honour of this dance?”
He did not see any reason to wait, to hold back on this. Now that the question was out there, he was grateful because he really did wish to know more about Lady Sylvia. He was intrigued by this woman, more than he ever had been by any other woman before, and he wanted to know what that meant.
Lady Sylvia hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at her aunt. But Lady Grace chuckled and nodded emphatically, causing Lady Sylvia’s face to light up with a shy smile. “I would be delighted, Lord Wesley.”
Wesley extended his slightly trembling hand excitedly, and Lady Sylvia took it, her touch sending a warm thrill through him. One so intense, it was brand new to him and utterly thrilling. As they moved to the dance floor, the orchestra transitioned into a new song, the music flowing gracefully around them. They held one another and began to dance, the world around them fading as they focused on each other.
As they swayed, Wesley felt an unexpected weight lift off his shoulders. Lady Sylvia’s presence was calming, her movements graceful yet unpretentious, like she had been taught by a different dance teacher to everyone else. Or like she did not want to put on a show for others. He found solace in the way she carried herself, so different from the polished but empty charm he often encountered. As the music danced through the air, he felt a sense of anticipation mixed with a rare joy.
“This is rather a nice ball your aunt has thrown,” he told her smilingly.
“Yes, she has done a lovely job,” Sylvia agreed, looking proud as she spoke. “She has been unwell for a while, so it islovely to see her doing so much better. Her strength is truly impressive.”
“I see.” He had not heard about Lady Grace being sick, but did not think it right to push for more information. “Well then that makes all of this even more inspiring.”
From this, the conversation flowed surprisingly naturally. Sylvia came across as intelligent and sincere, especially as they drifted into topics of literature. She spoke of books with a passion that stirred something deep within Wesley’s chest, a yearning for something real and substantial. She had not yet gossiped even a little and she was not bragging about herself either. She had not even talked about the gowns that everyone was wearing. It seemed like she had so much more to say for herself, which truly intrigued Wesley.
“I recently finished a novel by Miss Austen,” Sylvia said, her voice tinged with excitement. “Her insights into humanity and our nature are remarkable.”
Wesley smiled, intrigued by her enthusiasm. “Yes, the works I have read of Miss Austen are profound. Her characters feel so alive, their strains and accomplishments resonate deeply.”
Sylvia’s face lit up, looking encouraged by his response. “Exactly! I find myself drawn to her stories because I can relate in a way that I cannot with other authors. I am always left wanting to read more.”
It was a shame as the dance came to an end, it felt like it had happened far too quickly, especially when an announcement rang out over the ballroom, letting everyone know that supper was to be served and that dance partners were to escort their ladies to the dining table.
Wesley and Sylvia exchanged a pleased glance. “May I have the honour of accompanying you to supper, Lady Sylvia?” Wesley asked, offering his arm.
Sylvia accepted gracefully, her touch sending a pleasant shiver through him. “I would be delighted, Lord Wesley.”
As she touched him, a shiver of excitement ran through his body. He felt like every fiber of his being was reacting to this woman in a way he had never expected to experience. How had he never met her before? She seemed a little older, and far wiser, than other debutantes, which was surprising. Wesley was amazed that she was not yet married. Was she the sort of woman who his mother would be impressed with? He did not wish to focus on her social standing but he knew it would come up in conversations later on with his family. He did not know nearly enough about Lady Sylvia, but he was so intrigued, he hoped that this could work out.
They made their way to the dining hall, the atmosphere buzzing with the excited chatter of guests. The long tables were laden with an array of exquisite dishes, the aromas mingling to create an inviting feast. Wesley led Sylvia to a seat, ensuring she was comfortable before taking his place right beside her. She seemed happy when he sat next to her, grateful for the friendly face sitting with her.
“This looks like it will be quite the feast,” Wesley commented with a smile. “I am sure your aunt is thrilled with how tonight is going.”
Sylvia smiled happily, enjoying the compliment. “Oh, I am quite sure. It seems like a success to me.”
As they settled in, the noise of the dining hall faded into the background. Wesley found himself immersed in conversation with Sylvia, their connection easy and genuine. They spoke of literature, art, and even the recent political changes, her insights reflecting a depth of understanding that fascinated him. Unlike the superficial exchanges he was used to, Sylvia’s words carried weight and sincerity.
Dinner progressed, with various courses being served. Wesley barely noticed the passing dishes, so engrossed was he in Sylvia’s company and everything that she had to say. He found himself sharing thoughts and opinions he had never voiced aloud before, feeling an unfamiliar but welcome sense of connection. Each time he looked into Sylvia’s eyes, he saw the spark of intellect and kindness, a combination that drew him in more than any dazzling jewels or elegant gowns ever could.
At one point, Lady Arabella glanced their way, her expression briefly flickering with curiosity and perhaps a hint of annoyance. Wesley felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was neglecting the social obligations his mother had pressed upon him. But as he turned back to Sylvia, that guilt melted away, replaced by a resolve to explore this burgeoning connection.
