Page 9 of The Earl's Demure Spinster
Wesley chuckled lightly, though his heart wasn’t in it. “If only I felt as confident as I look.”
Harriet placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “Remember, you are not alone in this endeavour. Simply be true to yourself, and all shall fall into place. You will win the affections of the lady of your dreams.”
***
Her words gave him a small measure of comfort as they made their way downstairs. The grand staircase seemed more imposing than usual, each step echoing with the weight of his apprehension. At the bottom, their mother waited for them, radiating with intense excitement.
“Ah, there you are, Wesley,” Victoria exclaimed, her eyes bright with anticipation. “You look splendid! Lady Arabella will be delighted.”
Wesley forced a smile. “Thank you, Mother. I am sure it will be another interesting night ahead.”
They stepped outside, the cool evening air providing a brief respite from the tension. The carriage awaited, its polished exterior gleaming under the light of the candle lamps. The horses stamped their hooves impatiently, their breath visible in the chill.
As they settled in to the carriage, Wesley found himself wedged between Harriet and his mother, the latter immediately launching in to a monologue about the importance of the evening. He tuned out most of her words, his mind preoccupied with how he would navigate the social mine field that awaited him.
“Well, Mother, as you know,” Harriet interjected with a much too bright tone, worrying Wesley that she was about to start some trouble. “I am looking for a love match. I have been thinking about the man I wish to marry throughout my whole life, and I hope to meet him at an event just like this one. Who knows what will happen.”
Victoria frowned. “Do not forget the importance of wealth and status. In our circles, they mean everything.”
The contrast between Harriet’s romanticism and their mother’s practicality left Wesley feeling conflicted. He sympathized with Harriet’s romantic ideals, yet understood the realities of their societal duties. He just was not sure where his true desires lay. He had no idea what he would end up doing.
The journey to the ball felt both interminably long and yet too short. Before he knew it, they were pulling up to the grand estate, its windows ablaze with light and the sound of music and laughter spilling out into the night. Footmen stood ready to assist them, their livery immaculate. The anxiety that had been coursing through him before now threatened to overwhelm his senses; this affair promised to be far from enjoyable. Not if he were to be thrust into the company of Lady Arabella for the entirety of the evening.
“Lady Grace Talbot has put on quite the fine evening, do you not think?” his mother asked as they made their way inside to a very opulent ballroom. “Tonight will be truly thrilling.”
There were a lot of people already in attendance, all in their finest gowns, talking and gossiping excitedly among themselves. It was an interesting sight that Wesley might have stepped back and enjoyed if he were not so worried about the moment he spotted Lady Arabella.
“Wesley,” his mother snapped, drawing his attention back to the present moment. “Please, greet our host.”
Wesley immediately plastered on the smile he used while in public, and dealing with the ton, and bowed gracefully to Lady Grace. “Thank you very much for inviting us to this wonderful ball, Lady Grace Talbot. It is an honour to be here.”
She smiled and blushed graciously, inclining her head. “The honour is mine, Lord Wesley. I trust you will enjoy the evening.”
Wesley nodded, offering a polite smile, but his thoughts were already drifting. The room was a swirl of colors and sounds, the laughter and chatter of the elite merging into a cacophony that both overwhelmed and entranced him. He caught glimpses of familiar faces, friends from childhood, distant relatives, and, of course, the ever watchful eyes of potential suitors and their chaperones.
This was a lot, for everyone, and the thought that it was only the start of the Season truly worried him. How on earth was he going to survive all of this? How on earth would he get through?
“Come on,” his mother hissed once they were done greeting the host. “Let us mingle. We must try to find Lady Arabella to make sure you are the first name on her dance card. We would not want anyone else to get in there first.”
Wesley somehow managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He would have to find a way to dance with Lady Arabella, because it would be expected of him, but that was all he would do. No one would be able to make him do more.
