Here we go, I battered this out. I still have that piece on the dinner coming, and a few more ideas floating around my head.
Also, I wanted to know if anyone else noticed this. On page 118 of the American copy of Starclimber Kate asks, (in verbatim) "'Do you really think she'll say yes.'" with out a question mark. I really bugs the crap out of me. Though, sorry that's kind of random.
All, really, belongs to Kenneth Oppel.
I can't dance; I never learned. It's sort of terrifying, something you'd get out of so not to embarrass yourself. Cloud cats and aerozoans terrify me also, but stick me in front of an audience to dance and I'd be happy to float away on the bulbous sack of one of those air-squids. Maybe even Phoebe, Kate's long lost specimen, would do me the honor. As long as I was safely away from the tentacles.
Last time I tried learning, aboard the Saga, I ended up stepping on Kate's feet a lot and then didn't improve much. Before then I had never needed to dance, much less for the fun of it. If I had continued to live the life I'd had aboard the Aurora, I probably would not have had to do it much in my life, but because fate had decided Kate would have a place in it, things would be different.
Thinking of it now, many things would be different. And all of this Kate had just explained to me.
"You think so, too, don't you?" she asked. "You need to learn. Last time…" Her voice trailed off. I winced.
"What do you have in mind?" I wanted to know.
"Lessons?"
I frowned at the idea of paying just to learn how to dance.
"I could teach you… if you didn't kill me."
I didn't say anything, but didn't scowl either.
Kate continued down her line of thought. "But you know, if I was handicapped," she stopped, and her nostrils narrowed at me, though I hadn't done anything yet, and then smiled evilly, "Marjorie could take over."
And that was that.
**********
From the hall, I heard Kate speak: "If you really want to, Marjorie, you can watch! But, heavens, why? Do you want to help out?"
Ms. Simpkins' reply was somewhat muffled. I just continued to sit on the couch, waiting for Kate and praying she didn't bring Ms. Simpkins.
"Well, fine, then, if it makes you happy."
My heart sank. With just Kate and I in the room with her, Ms. Simpkins would feel no need to restrain her comments.
When Kate walked in with Ms. Simpkins in tow, apparently she did not feel the need to hide her displeasure, by the look of her face. Her chaperon looked as prim and aloof as ever.
"Marjorie finds herself in need of the library as well," Kate said. We had pushed the furniture from the center of Kate's library, giving us a satisfactory ball room. Though honestly I'd been surprised that Kate's apartment had not already come equipped with one. "You can take any chair you want."
"Be careful," quipped Miss Simpkins, " don't step on me, please."
Kate gave a sharp laugh. "Step on you? If you want to leave, that's certainly fine."
"No, no. Just be careful."
"Alright, then," said Kate, turning to face me, "I thought we'd start with the box step, because that's what we did last time, so it won't be completely new. And we'll do it without music, first."
I knew this was when I had to stand up. Near the corner in the chair she'd picked, Kate's chaperon sat with her nose stuck up a book, but I could see that she kept peeking over the top. Annoyed, I got up and smiled at Kate, hoping to at least make this as uncomfortable for Miss Simpkins as it was for me. To my delight Kate smiled back, and Miss Simpkins frowned.
With one hand on my shoulder and the other in mine, Kate stepped me through while I focused on not stepping on her feet. I couldn't take my eyes off our legs without placing a wrong foot or tripping. But gradually my dancing went from disaster to at least mediocre.
Every time I did misstep, I looked up from my feet at Kate, and , some to my relief, saw her eyes laughing at me, not frustrated. So I didn't stop.
"Wonderful, you're doing fine," Kate whispered, just quiet enough so that her chaperon did not hear.
"Not really. But as long as you're fine…" I trailed off.
"I am fine; so we'll start the music," Kate said, and then raised her voice. "Marjorie, would you be kind enough to start the record, please?"
Miss Simpkins muttered something about "not being a servant", but then reached over anyways and set the music playing.
**********
The music I'd chosen was a nice classical piece, conducted by a Josef Rhienberger. The notes flowed in such a way that I'd hoped might pick Matt's feet up with it. Sometimes music can have great influence on such things, most of the time in an unconscious way.
"I'll tell you when to start, alright?" she told him. "Exactly as we've been doing it."
"Exactly," he repeated.
"Though it might be a bit faster," Kate added, just before the piece started.
"So not exactly."
As we started, I could tell that he was trying to focus on many things at once. The steps in line with the music and watching out for me, all while trying to lead. I had been very young when I'd learned and at the time had seen no point in it, but mummy and daddy had insisted. Lessons had at first been a very dull part of the day, but when I improved it wasn't half as bad. So I admired Matt and his stubbornness. And through the whole time he still managed to be as gentle as usual. His hand merely rested on my waist, unlike some men I'd danced with before, clamping down. His hand other was sweet, holding mine.
Not to say that he was any better yet. The only other good thing about it being that my toes had escaped much of the bruising I'd been expecting.
**********
Miss Simpkins did not enjoy being a servant, and surely that's what she was being turned into. Kate had once again asked her to tend to the record player. At least she hadn't ordered her to fetch the refreshments as well… Kate had excused herself, saying she'd ask the actual maid to bring something to drink. Though maybe it would have been better if Marjorie had left the library, for now she was sitting through a long silence with the former cabin boy, Matt Cruse.
"Are you well, Miss Simpkins?" he asked.
"Just watching you two makes me exhausted," she remarked.
"Really? Aboard the Saga, you seemed an excellent dancer."
The chaperon's face flushed; he considered himself a charmer, then! Indeed, Kate's last engagement had not prevailed, but there was no doubt in Marjorie's mind that something else would be set up in a matter of time.
"Yes, well, I must have had quite the adrenaline rush at the time," she said, though there really was no need for an excuse.
"Miss Simpkins, you really can't be that old," he said, though actually managing to only sound a little rude.
But the impudence of it!
"Old? Nowhere near it, Mr. Cruse. You aren't the one who has to chase a charge like Kate around everywhere her whim fancies. If it was any other girl, really…"
Matt nodded solemnly. "I know what you mean. I express my deepest condolences."
Well, there was nothing she could say to that. Instead, Miss Simpkins gave a little "Hmph" and returned to her reading, but also to thinking.
It was no good that she herself was actually paid to chaperon young Miss de Vries, but now she had to practically double her efforts of vigilance, ever since Matt Cruse had started socializing with young Kate. Except when Marjorie's own interest came into the picture. She had formed a sort of agreement with Kate over the summer; she would be allowed to socialize with Mr. Cruse so long as she didn't breathe a word about her own diversions to Mr. and Mrs. de Vries. Though she still didn't like the way they had danced together.
**********
I let out a breath when Kate came back, soon followed by drinks. I was a little surprised at what Kate had requested: champagne, brought in by the maid on a platter with three glasses. Apparently Kate had also been considerate enough to include her chaperon in the festivities.
When I asked her why we were celebrating she said, "Well, there's a first time for everything, and when I learned, I'm sure I would have loved to have some fun in-between all the lessons. They were rather horrid. The neighbors must have heard my cries from across the street! "
To me, this seemed silly, but I didn't argue. The bottle gave a hearty pop as the cork came loose, and Kate and I sat back on the couch. Miss Simpkins had declined her glass, saying she was not in the mood.
I raised my glass in a toast. "To first times. May they always be good."
"Yes," Kate said, and then added, "and may you one day dance."
"That day," I said dryly, "will come when also Phoebe decides to return."
"We'll have to hope very hard she does, then. And that you do."
Okay, so I wasn't so sure on how to end this one, but decided to turn it out anyways. If anyone has any brilliant ideas on how to put it differently, let me know.
Thank you all for the lovely reviews; I'll still try and post when there are none, but they give me fuel to write!
If there's any ideas for other stories, please speak up, it'd be fantastic.
