Not that her year and a half had resulted in much success. Perhaps if she just needed more skill at the pianoforte, or her frocks were often wrinkled, or she lacked decorum in her presentation, she’d be able to overcome her obstacles on the path to matrimony.
But no matter how many times Madame Bellafonte thrust her in front of a perspective suitor, she could not untie her tongue.
And so, Mr. Wright had asked another lady to dance last night, Lady Lily, a fellow student, who he’d then called on this morning. And it was Lily who was now fawning on his arm as they circled the park.
Worse yet, the park was abuzz with activity today, the sort in which she’d very much like to participate. It was the beginning of May and the rain had given way to beautiful blue skies and flowers blooming everywhere. And Mayfair had decided to host a celebration in honor of its splendor. As a result, a Maypole was being hoisted into place by several of the men who lived around the park. In five days’ time, they’d have a May Day celebration with dancing, and music, and all sorts of merriment.
And she’d likely miss it.
Madame Bellafonte would never let them participate in the May Day dance, of course. It was too…improper.
But in order to participate in the rest of the festival they’d need a proper chaperone, a family member or friend who’d be considered appropriate.
Aubrey had written to her family, of course, but no one had replied. Not that that surprised her, but she’d hoped…
With a sigh, she watched Lily and Mr. Wright stop to observe the men give the final heave to log that would make up the Maypole. Ribbons danced in the air like a colorful flag as they swirled about the wreath attached to the top.
Lily pointed, laughing as her free hand looped into Mr. Wright’s arm. He bent low, his face close to Lily’s as he whispered something in her ear. In return, she gave him a large smile.
Aubrey’s arm folded onto the sill, her cheek resting on her arms as a heavy sigh slipped from her lips.
Madame Bellafonte had an excellent record with her students making matches after attending her school, but Aubrey was going to be a failure.
Her mother’s words echoed in her ears. “She’s pretty enough and reasonably accomplished,” she’d huffed to Aubrey’s older brother, the Baron of Tidewell. “But the girl gets so tongue-tied, it’s hopeless.”
Her brother had waved his arm. “I’ll make some match for her. There are men that will take even her. One of my friends will take pity on me and take her off my hands.”
Even her…
Unwittingly, she let out another sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Lady Camilla Fairbanks asked from behind Aubrey.
Aubrey lifted her head, turning to look at her friend. Camilla’s blonde ringlets bounced as she glided across the room. They shared the attic space with several other girls, all who began filing into the dormitory. Decorum class must have finished. “Nothing,” she replied as Camilla came to stand with her at the window.
“Are you lamenting the fact that you won’t be able to participate in the May Day fair?” Camilla asked, her voice low to keep from being overheard by the other girls.
“What makes you ask that?” Aubrey looked back at Mr. Wright, who’d begun walking with Lily once again. Her friend was very perceptive so it was a silly question, but Aubrey only wished to delay explaining. She didn’t relish saying them out loud.
“It’s the logical conclusion based on the view out the window.” Camilla touched her shoulder as she sat on the window seat next to Aubrey in their attic room.
“I suppose it is,” she answered. It was, at least partially true. Mostly she was lamenting the fact that she’d watch the rest of her friends make wonderful matches with men like Mr. Wright. Not that she wished them any ill. She’d rejoice in their happiness. It was just that she wanted a bit for herself.
“My brother is coming,” their friend, Lady Sarah Appleton, piped in, her auburn hair and green eyes glinting in the sun as she joined them by the window. “I’m certain he could bring a gentleman to escort you. Even Madame Bellafonte would have to approve of that.”
Aubrey frowned. Madame Bellafonte prided herself on launching girls with spotless reputations. “I’m not certain she would.”
Rose walked over too, her hand patting Aubrey’s shoulder. “We’ll try and ask her. But in the meantime, we must find a way to help Aubrey participate in the May Day fun even if Madame doesn’t agree. It’s the most romantic time of the year, even Wordsworth knows it to be true.” Rose’s gaze grew far off and dreamy as she quoted her favorite poet.
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Aubrey was quite used to Rose spouting regular bouts of poetry and she gave her friend a small smile that quickly slipped from her face again. “I’m not hoping for romance this May Day, just a bit of fun.” She didn’t say this to her friends, but in her heart, she’d given up on May Day love or any love at all.
Madame Bellafonte would have to add Aubrey Featherly into her short column of failures. She’d allow her brother to make some sort of match for her just so that she didn’t have to spend the rest of her life listening to him and her mother lament her spinsterhood.
Sarah clapped her hands, her eyes aglow. Sweet and kind, Sarah was prone to fits of fancy and she had that look about her now. “I’ve had the most splendid idea,” she said and then leaned in closer to whisper.
All the other girls leaned in too. Sarah angled her head
