created two lines facing each other. “Mr. Reeve?”
A young footman hurried over to Mrs. Scott, his face stil red from hoisting sofas.
Mrs. Scott hid her face behind her fan. “I’m young. I’m the bel e of the bal . Ask me to dance.”
Grace rol ed her eyes.
Chloe sat on the edge of her seat, enraptured.
Mr. Reeve bowed. “Excuse me, miss. Might I have this dance?” Mrs. Scott peeked out from behind her fan. “Hmm. I do believe I am available.”
She batted her eyelids and curtsied. With a snap of her fingers, she cued Lady Martha, and the music began. Moments after the first chords were struck, Chloe was transported back to the 1995 TV adaptation of
Grace checked the watch on her chatelaine.
Julia tapped her fan in her hand to the rhythm.
Becky smiled.
Mrs. Scott announced the moves. “Both couples turn by right hands.” Chloe, entranced, did everything she could to memorize the steps. “Left hands. Ones cross and cast down.” But she kept getting swept away by the music and a vision of Sebastian in his coat and riding boots at the pond. “Ones dance back-to-back and faceup.”
At first, Mrs. Scott paired Chloe with Julia, and the two proved to be a great match. Julia danced with a bounce in her step and always looked her dance partner in the eye and smiled; maintaining perfect posture and poise, she was an inspiration.
After just a few dances, Mrs. Scott moved Julia down the line and set Grace across from Chloe. “Your ladyship, might you dance the male role with Miss Parker? I want to watch her form.”
Grace sneered. She stood a ful head tal er than Chloe. For the first time in a long time, Chloe missed her heels. She never wore stilettos, but even her chunky heels would’ve helped. Lady Martha started in on the pianoforte. Grace bowed while Chloe curtsied. The two stepped toward each other, to grasp hands and turn. Chloe stretched out her hand and Grace recoiled.
“Ugggggh! Whatever is that al over your hands, Miss Parker?”
Lady Martha hit a wrong note on the piano and stopped.
“It’s ink. Dried ink.” Chloe held out her hands. “From some letters I wrote.”
“That happens to me every time I write,” Julia said. “It takes aeons for it to wash off.”
Grace tossed her head back. She must’ve worn her hair long in the real world, as tossing her hair seemed part of her repertoire, but when it was pinned up, the head toss didn’t have the same effect. “I can’t tolerate it.”
Chloe put her hands down at her sides. She had to wonder about Grace. Was she a born socialite or did she actual y do something for a living?
Fashion designer? Manscaper? Personal trainer from hel ?
Cook, who stood next to Chloe in the line, held her hands out. They were very rough and chapped from al her work, no doubt. “You’re not alone, Miss Parker.”
Chloe took Cook’s hands in hers and gave them a little squeeze. “Oh, Cook. What would we do without you?”
Mrs. Scott pul ed the bel and moments later Fiona ran in, out of breath, set a scrub brush and bucket down at the door, and curtsied.
Mrs. Scott didn’t even look at her. “Do fetch Miss Parker and Lady Grace’s dancing gloves. Hurry now.” She clapped three times.
Chloe cringed at seeing her maidservant treated so rudely.
“Mrs. Scott,” Grace said in the same whiny voice Abigail used when she wasn’t the center of attention. “Much as I would love to be the man in Miss Parker’s life, I do want you to know that Mr. Wrightman wil be coming to col ect me very soon. I need to change into my riding habit.”
Chloe shot a look at Mrs. Crescent, who turned toward Fifi, fast asleep atop a rol ed-up carpet.
Fiona dashed in with the gloves, and the pianoforte and dancing resumed. Chloe, dizzy and thirsty from the dancing, counted the steps as she turned around Grace, as Grace turned her, and as they cast down to the end of the line of dancers. Grace knew al the dance steps, because she had been here for three weeks, so she threw zingers at Chloe every chance she got.
“What kind of perfume do you have on, Miss Parker? Eau de algae?”
Chloe concentrated on the figures and whispered to herself, “Right-hand turn, left hand. Cross, and cast down. Bounce on your toes.”
“I heard about your little foray into the frog hatchery. I can understand sneaking a pinch of snuff or taking a nip of the Madeira, but dipping into the frog hatchery? Wel , natural y your little adventure has cost you. As you know, Mr. Wrightman and I wil be riding off into the sunset together. You haven’t even met him yet, have you? Wealthy English gentlemen are not that accessible to the likes of you—from America. I do hope you realize your place.”
Grace was not “in” with the other girls. Nobody seemed to like her, and Chloe suspected her of having some kind of hidden agenda—but what?
Did she join the show to launch an acting career? Was she just after the money or was it more complicated than that? Chloe continued to mouth the dance moves to herself. “Face up, take hands, elbow forms a
Grace stopped in the middle of the line and put her hands on her hips. “Lady Martha, if you please.”
