Margaret examined herself in the mirror. She did not consider herself particularly vain, but she had to admit that this gown suited her well. She had instructed the chambermaid to place red roses of the same shade as her dress into her hair. She could smell their perfume.

Margaret felt giddy at the prospect of seeing and maybe even dancing with Mr Thornton at the ball tonight. She had been disappointed that she did not have the opportunity to speak with him after dinner last night. Aunt Shaw said that he had retired early as he had meetings this morning. Certainly he had left the house before Margaret even went downstairs for breakfast.

Satisfied with her appearance, Margaret gathered her gloves and made her way to Fanny's room. She knocked and heard 'please enter' from the other side. Margaret opened the door.

'Margaret, you look lovely. Who would have thought that you would have gowns like that in your wardrobe when you usually…' Fanny stopped mid sentence to rethink her words.

'I understand what you mean Fanny. Yes I know I usually look quite different in Milton. But there I am unlikely to attend parties and balls on a regular basis. And I could hardly walk to Marlborough Street wearing this now, could I?'

'No you could not.' Fanny laughed. 'How do I look?' she asked Margaret.

'Splendid. You should always wear blue Fanny. It becomes you. Shall we go?'

'Yes, just let me find my gloves. They are here somewhere.' Fanny rummaged through her drawers.

'Fanny, do you know if John is back yet? I was just concerned that he would not be here in time for the ball.' Margaret felt like a terrible liar.

'John? No, he came earlier to change. But he left again to escort Ann Latimer to the ball. If you ask me anything, Mr Latimer is very keen on John for a son-in-law.'

Margaret felt physically ill. Had she been mistaken in his attentions yesterday? And what about the rose? He had talked of making new memories. Margaret had assumed that he meant with him. Maybe she was mistaken? Maybe she had read too much into a simple kind gesture.

'Do you think that John cares for Miss Latimer?' Margaret tried to sound disinterested.

'I am sure that it would be an advantageous alliance. Mr Latimer is John's banker after all. I do not think Mamma would be pleased. She passionately dislikes Mr Latimer. Although I am not sure that any woman would be good enough for John in my mother's eyes.' Fanny put on her gloves and regarded herself in the looking glass one last time. 'There. Shall we go find your Aunt Shaw?'

Margaret sat pensively in the carriage on the way to the ball. She told herself that it was silly to presume Mr Thornton held her in esteem based solely on their exchanges during a train journey. Bessy had said herself that many girls had their eye on him as a potential suitor. It would make more sense for him to choose someone like Ann Latimer. There would be no advantage in the Master of Marlborough Mill making connections with a poor, former reverend's daughter.

Margaret had to admit that she had never been the best judge of whether a gentleman held affection for her. She had been completely oblivious to Henry's intentions the day that he proposed at Helstone. If she had been, she would have managed her refusal far better than she did. Poor Henry. He had pleaded for her forgiveness last night at dinner. He had said that he dearly wanted them to return to being friends. Margaret wanted that too; but she could not entirely quash her concern that Henry still felt more for her than she did for him.

As the carriage came to a halt, Margaret could not help feeling nervous. She could not account for how much just knowing that Mr Thornton was near affected her. Following Aunt Shaw into the ballroom, Margaret anxiously looked around. It was a beautiful sight. All of the ladies in their finery, the lighting, the decorations. She could hear the musicians warming up and tuning their instruments.

'Oh Margaret, I cannot believe I am at a real ball in London. I could just die!' Fanny's eyes were large with excitement. 'Look there is John.'

Margaret focused her eyes in the direction that Fanny was pointing. She was sure that her heart caught in her throat when she saw him. He was uncommonly handsome, standing tall amongst what seemed like a sea of short, stout balding men. There was no denying how attracted she was to him. Her whole being wanted to gravitate towards him. That is until she saw Ann Latimer.

Miss Latimer was stunning in a midnight blue gown. It was of a more recent style than Margaret's own gown, which was new last year. She held John's arm again in a possessive way, smiling and laughing gaily amongst the group of bankers and guests that had assembled around them.

Margaret wanted to run from the assembly room. She could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes.

'Miss Thornton, may I ask you for the first dance of the evening?' It was Samuel de Walden. Margaret had grown up with Samuel. He would never make a scholar, but his family owned half of Harley Street.

Fanny gave Samuel a brilliant smile. 'Yes Mr de Walden. My card is empty.' Fanny allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor as the orchestra began the opening notes to the Grand March. This dance provided an opportunity to see and be seen as dancers paraded around the room in simple formations.

Margaret saw Mr Thornton lead Miss Latimer onto the floor. She watched as the music increased pace and the participants moved around the room. Fanny was the first to pass her, jubilant in the moment. Ladies and gentlemen, young and old made their way past the onlookers. Margaret detected a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her. She quickly looked to the floor.

At that moment Mr Latimer moved to talk to a gentleman to Margaret's right. After shaking hands enthusiastically she overheard his companion ask after Ann's health. Margaret listened for Mr Latimer's reply. 'She has only just returned from a very expensive finishing school in Switzerland, and now it looks like I shall have to pay for a very expensive wedding!'

She felt a distinct pain in her chest and the urge to cry assaulted her. She wanted to scream at Mr Thornton, and call him a scoundrel. But she had no basis for such accusations. He had caused her no injury, committed no wrongdoing other than showing kindness and gallantry. Margaret reprimanded herself. What claims did she have to him other than her own selfish longing to be in his company?

The music finished and the dancers dispersed. Margaret could see that Fanny had stayed on the dance floor with Samuel for the Cotillian. John and Ann had joined them.

Margaret decided it was futile for her to stand there and torture herself. She walked over to the refreshment table for a glass of punch. As she placed her hand on the ladle in the bowl a familiar voice spoke to her.

'My dear Margaret, you are a jewel amongst all these stones. How is it that you have not been collected by some tall, dark stranger?' Margaret turned, the elation at seeing this unexpected visitor lifting her spirits.

'Mr Bell! What are you doing here? I did not know you were in London? It is so good to see you.' Margaret embraced him as she would her own father.

'Like all men of good fortune, I am reliant on the services of a good banker. Mr Rothschild drags me to these occasions every year. But I must say that this might be the first time I actually enjoy myself.' Mr Bell chortled at his own joke. 'Why are you here my dear?'

'I have come to visit my Aunt in London for a month of the social season. I have invited Fanny Thornton to stay. Her brother John is here on business with his own banker, Mr Latimer.' Margaret eyes again strayed to Miss Latimer and her good-looking partner.

Mr Bell considered Margaret momentarily. 'Who is on your dance card my dear?'

'No-one presently sir.' Margaret smiled diffidently.

'How can that be possible? We must rectify that immediately.' Mr Bell looked around for a suitable acquaintance.

'Mr Bell, I am content not to be dancing. Please do not take pity on me. Unless of course you should wish to take me around the floor yourself?'

The distinguished older gentleman smiled and bowed. 'I would be honored Margaret. I rarely dance, but as your favourite Godfather I will make an exception.'

He and Margaret moved to the centre of the floor for the start of the next progressive dance. After their turn, Mr Bell waved as he headed on to the next partner and Margaret moved onwards in the opposite direction. They proceeded in the same manner until the music stopped. Margaret looked up at the partner she did not have the opportunity to dance with. Her eyes followed his torso all the way up to a familiar face. Her mind went blank. She stared dumb at him, her hands beginning to shake, her skin feeling hot.

Before she could compose herself to leave the floor, the orchestra began again. It was the Waltz. Without a word, Mr Thornton stepped forward and took Margaret's hand. Her legs felt numb. She had no idea how she was going to move, let alone dance. John's other hand found her waist, edging slightly around her back to pull her closer to him. Margaret felt lightheaded, her heart beating fast. She could smell his cologne again. Her body shuddered. Carefully she placed her hand on John's arm. She had never realised how broad his shoulders were. She could feel the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric of his coat. She felt strangely secure in his arms yet in danger at the same time. They began to move. Everything was turning. Margaret's skirt billowed out as John spun her about the room. His hand crept further around her back bringing her closer to him. She could feel the warmth of the length of his body. They were moving in synch. Nothing had ever felt more natural. Margaret looked up into John's face and met the intensity of his gaze with her own depth of feeling. It felt like they were the only ones in the room. Everything else became a blur as she looked into the depths of his beautiful eyes. Their breathing escalated, John held her tighter still. Margaret relaxed in his arms allowing him to guide her around the floor. They were moving so lightly, so effortlessly, it was almost like floating in the wind with him. They were as one.

And then the music ended. It took longer than it should have for the Master and the Reverend's daughter to let go of each other. They reluctantly broke apart, still staring at each other, both unsure what to do next.

'Capital dancing you two.' It was Mr Bell that interrupted their reverie. 'I think every eye in the room was on you. You had us all quite enthralled. How handsome you look together.'

With Mr Bell's voice, John collected himself and shook the older man's hand. 'Mr Bell, this is an unexpected pleasure.'

'How long are you in town John?'

'I'm afraid I leave in the morning. There is nothing that we need to attend to regarding my lease is their sir?' John looked uncomfortable

'Not at all John.'

'Well if you will both excuse me. Mr Bell. Miss Hale.' John bowed and hurried away.

The heightened emotion of the last few minutes started to catch up with Margaret. She had turned pale and Mr Bell became concerned for her welfare. 'Margaret, are you all right my dear. You look positively wretched. What can I do for you?'

Margaret felt like she was going to cry at any moment. 'I feel unwell - just a small headache. Can you take me back to my aunt's please sir? I would not want to ask Fanny or my aunt to go home early on my account.'

'Of course my dear. Let us get your coat immediately. Go speak to your aunt and I will meet you at the door.'

Margaret smiled in gratitude.

Alone with Mr Bell in the darkness of the carriage, Margaret finally allowed a tear to fall down her cheek. They sat in silence. Margaret did not feel like talking and Mr Bell thankfully did not ask questions. She would not have been able to answer them even if he had.

Margaret did not understand what was happening between her and John. They had shared some moments of profound feeling in the last few days, she was now sure of it. But John seemed to be pulling away.

All she did know for sure was that her heart felt broken. Margaret had never had a broken heart before. She had always wondered what it felt like. Despite all of the confusion she felt, she figured that there was only one thing that it could mean.

She was deeply in love with Mr Thornton.