one attend a ball but to dance?
-The Spinster Chronicles, 20 August 1818
“Do you know how many years I have spent avoiding the Wintermere spring ball, Radcliffe? All of them. Every single year that I have been eligible to attend, I have avoided it. Why? Because Annabelle Wintermere is a desperate cat and wants me for her husband. I cannot believe I let you talk me into this. What was I thinking? And what is this abysmal theme they are attempting? It fails, whatever it is. Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Graham glanced at Tyrone as the two of them proceeded into the ballroom, thankfully without having to endure an official introduction from a stuffy majordomo.
“You seem to be carrying on a conversation well enough on your own. I saw no need to intervene.” He returned his attention forward, scanning the guests already in attendance. “Besides, I cannot abide whining.”
Tyrone gave him a dark look. “Whining?”
“What else would you call incessant complaining? You had a choice about attending, and you chose to attend. There is nothing to complain about.”
“I beg your pardon; there is a great deal to complain about.”
Graham smiled to himself, shaking his head. “Then do us both a kindness and confine the complaints to your head.”
“That is hardly as satisfying,” Tyrone grunted. “Did you convince Francis to come?”
“Didn’t have to,” Graham informed him, frowning at the lack of familiar faces. “I believe his wife took care of that, though I don’t see either of them here yet.”
Tyrone smirked and swiped a drink from a stoic footman. “It’s early in the evening for them. Or for anyone important, for that matter.”
“You’re here.”
“As I said, too early for anyone important.” He flashed a quick grin, then looked about the room himself. “Gads, this will get stuffy, though. Already twelve couples on the floor and barely room enough to maneuver. The Wintermeres must be feeling particularly ambitious this year.”
Graham looked at his friend again, ignoring the scratch of his over-starched cravat. “How would you know? You just said you never attend. This might be normal for them.”
Tyrone’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away quickly. “I’ve heard. The Spinster Chronicles have detailed the event every year.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” Graham nodded sagely, trying not to smile. Despite Tyrone’s comments, his friend hadn’t been overly difficult to convince to attend tonight. He’d made more noise after the fact than he had before it, and he was perfectly free to leave whenever he chose.
He wouldn’t do so, however. Tyrone’s pattern was fairly well established. He would dance a few times, never with a lady he had a particular interest in, then take himself off to the gaming room for a few hours, only to return to the ballroom for a few more dances with ladies of whom he approved. Any and all young ladies wishing for the attentions of Tyrone Demaris in truth would watch for his return from the gaming room, hoping for a dance.
Those chosen prior to his departure thence were usually sensible enough not to care either way, which was likely why they were chosen.
Graham had no such elaborate plans dictating his behaviors at balls and assemblies. He did as he wished, and only as he wished, and rarely thought through his actions of the night prior to his arrival.
Only once had he acted differently from his wishes, and it had taken a stubborn Scottish beauty to change that for him.
On instinct, he looked around again, this time with more intensity. He was only here because the others had said they would attend, as Lady Edith and Miss Perry had been granted invitations and intended to come. He barely knew the Wintermeres, but he had been repeatedly assured that everyone who was anyone attended if invited, so attending had seemed the thing to do.
Every young lady he saw seemed to be dressed in her very finest, on her very best behavior, and every gentleman was far more attentive than he might have been at another ball in London. Graham couldn’t understand why, as it was the same sort of Society they engaged with at every other event, if not on a daily basis. What made this place and this event better than any other?
The Wintermeres were not nobility, though they had ties to it, and they had wealth, though not the most extensive fortune in London. Yet their ballroom was full to the brim, and more guests were entering every minute.
This was not the sort of event that Graham would enjoy. Too