I slept surprisingly well last night despite my reservations, although, as
I suspected, my mind is no more settled now that I have had some time to
think matters over. I feel like a child again, knowing I am doing something
that I should not, but unable to quite resist the thrill and excitement of
it all. Not of course that I have actually done anything, I have searched
my mind quite thoroughly and do not see that any action on my part could be
construed as anything other than completely innocent, and therefore I have
no reason to feel the slightest bit guilty.
As I was relating previously, the first hour or so of the party did not exactly live up to the high expectations I had set upon it, and by the time Charles thankfully left me to seek out the adoration of the rest of the ladies in the room, I was in half a mind to abandon the whole charade and just go home. I would have done so as well if it had not been for the thought of Mother's reaction if I returned so early, and, I am ashamed to say it, my own pride. It is a fault that I am aware of in myself, but I would not allow anyone the right to say that Virginia Dewhurst had left because she could not cope with an evening in the best company society had to offer.
Realising that this meant I was trapped for at least another hour until I could politely leave, I resigned myself to the fact with a sigh and looked around for someone whose company I could manage to tolerate for longer than a few minutes without wanting to scream. So I flitted from group to group for a while, talking to various acquaintances and trying my hardest to appear as if I were enjoying myself, and I like to think that I achieved a certain degree of success. After all, it is not so hard really. If you have a smile pasted to your face, people do not tend to look too closely to see if it is genuine or not.
I was busy trying my hardest to keep from falling asleep in the middle of Harriet George's description of her cousin's wedding the previous week, when suddenly the band struck up and the room was filled with music. I immediately cheered, if there is one thing that makes a party worth attending, it is the dancing. However, my happiness quickly turned to irritation again as at that moment I saw Charles looking around the room and remembered my earlier promise to dance with him. I knew from past experience that once he managed to attach himself to me I would not be free for the rest of the night, and suddenly I did not think I could stand it, even if it meant I would have to forgo the pleasure of taking part in the activity I so much enjoyed. I looked around quickly for some means of escape, and to my relief saw that the French windows leading out onto the balcony were open. Quickly, before Charles could locate me, I excused myself and made my way towards the doors, hoping the whole while that he was not following me. I pushed my way out into the cool night air, quickly closing the door behind me. And after a moment I breathed a sigh of relief, confident that I had not been followed. I could hear the music and the excited chatter as people began to dance and sighed, wondering how long I would have to wait before I could safely return inside. If only I had not promised Charles, none of this would have been necessary.
"A pleasant evening, is it not?" a voice observed suddenly from behind me. I turned sharply, only to discover Mr. Kennedy, leaning against a nearby pillar and regarding me with obvious curiosity. My surprise clearly amused him, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "Rather mild for this time of year, or so I have been told on numerous occasions tonight. I fear that all of Meg's guests have been struck down with that peculiar English complaint that compels one to talk of nothing but the weather." I was startled at finding that I was not alone as I had first assumed, and it took me a moment to be able to find the words to speak. My silence was evidently taken as displeasure however, and he sighed, straightening as he did so.
"Forgive me Lady Virginia, but I feel that you would be far happier if you did not have to endure the burden of my company. I will leave you in peace," he observed, bowing to me before making his way towards the door and leaving me to stare after him in bewilderment. I know that I should have just let him leave, but a combination of needing to apologise for my earlier rudeness and having no great desire to be alone outside caused me to stop him.
"I. please. stay," I blurted out suddenly, flushing when he turned back to me with a quizzical expression on his face. I continued hurriedly, the words falling out of my mouth in a tangled rush that I was unable to stop. "Forgive me, I was terribly rude to you earlier. I did not mean it. And please, call me Ginny," I do not usually feel so nervous or unsure around people, and I really have no idea what came over me, but by the time I finished I felt like a stuttering fool and really wanted nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. I could not have made such a bad impression as I had feared though, as although he looked undecided for a moment he finally smiled, moving back to where he had been previously.
"You do not need to ask my forgiveness for anything, I assure you," he told me, brushing aside any further protest with a wave of his hand. "As for calling you Ginny, I would be honoured to do so. Tell me though," he added, regarding me with a slight tilt of his head, "is it because you dislike your given name or simply because you have given up fighting against others who insist upon shortening it so?" His question surprised me slightly as no one had ever bothered to take the trouble of asking such a thing before. I was used to simply telling people what I wished them to call me and having them accept it.
"The choice was mine I am afraid," I admitted finally. "I refuse to be inflicted with such a name simply because of a grandmother that I have never met and my parents mistaken belief that they know something about Shakespeare." He laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement.
"Well I for one think it a great pity that such a beautiful name will be used so rarely, but far be it for me to disagree with a lady over something of such importance as what I am to call her," he commented. "Although I feel duty bound to point out that as far as names are concerned, your parents were positively kind. Mine on the other-hand." he trailed off, grimacing.
"Oh come now, if Archie is the worst that they could manage to decide upon, I think you have been positively lucky!" I protested. "I stand by my assertion that I have far greater cause for complaint than you, where names are concerned at least!"
"Believe me, if that were the extent of it, I would not grumble in the slightest," he assured me. "Unfortunately, although on the whole my parents tend to have impeccable taste, it seems to have left them rather severely around the time when it was necessary for them to choose a name for their only son. You have no cause to complain over your own name, I can assure you," he continued, his expression one of amused distaste. "It is lucky that I love them so much really, otherwise I would surely hold it against them."
"Well, if it is so bad, at least tell me so that I can judge for myself?" I asked, curious to hear what could be so much more awful than the name which I detested so much. He shook his head though, and I frowned slightly, unused to having such requests refused.
"I would hate to frighten you away now when we have only so recently been reconciled," he informed me, attempting to appear serious although he could not quite hold back the smile that was threatening to form on his lips.
"I hardly think that it can be as bad as you are saying!" I insisted, my curiosity heightened yet further. "Please. tell me?"
"Patience is a virtue, or so my Mother tells me," he commented, merriment twinkling in his eyes. "You have my word as a gentleman that I will tell you, but only when I can be sure enough that you will not run away laughing when I do so." And so I had to be content with that, as it was more than clear that he was not prepared to tell me at that point. With anyone else I would have felt offended, but somehow I could not bring myself to be anything other than amused, and still horribly, horribly curious about my new acquaintance.
"Well, if we are not to talk about names, do you have something else which you would wish to talk about?" I asked pointedly, hoping still at that time to convince him to tell me the information that had suddenly and quite unexplainably become so important for me to know. He only chuckled again though, tilting his head to one side as though considering something carefully.
"I had no topic in mind, but now that I think of it, I do have a question." he mused.
"Oh?" I prompted, wondering what it could be that he had to ask me. His question, when it came though, took me by surprise.
"I was merely wondering why it was that a lady such as yourself who clearly does not want for admirers, is hiding outside rather than being the centre of attention indoors where all the dancing is taking place," he told me. I flushed again, wishing as I did so that his words would not affect me in such a manner but being powerless to stop it. "Do you not like to dance?" he added when I did not speak.
"No, I. I enjoy dancing very much Mr. Kennedy." I assured him, unable to keep the wistful tone from my voice as I spoke. As I looked towards the house I could see the gaily-coloured dresses floating past and the music beckoned temptingly through the half open window behind me. If only.
"Please, I must insist that you call me Archie." he entreated, following my gaze to the window as he spoke. "So am I to take it that other matters have forced you to venture away from the party? Do not take offence at my question," he added hurriedly as if sensing I was about to object, "I was merely enquiring out of concern, I could not help noticing that you appeared rather flustered and hoped that there was no cause for worry." I could not find fault with him with words such as those however much I may have wanted to, and somehow I found myself telling him about my earlier promise.
"Well you see, I rather foolishly made a promise to Charles that I would dance with him tonight, but now.." I trailed off, realising how petty it all sounded. I had promised to dance and when the time arrived I had gone back on my word and run away like a girl of fourteen who does not know any better. What would he think of me? But it was too late now, the words had left my mouth and I could do nothing but let him judge me. He did not speak for a moment though, considering what I had just told him.
"You do not want to dance with him," he commented, finishing my sentence for me. I flushed.
"No, I do not want to dance with him," I repeated, slightly more emphatically than I had meant to and causing another amused glance from my companion.
"I am only glad that I have no aspiration to ever understand the fairer sex, as I fear I should be terribly frustrated in my efforts," he observed after a moment, smiling softly at me. I felt myself becoming cross again although I tried my hardest not to, the knowledge that I had no cause to feel offended at his words only serving to irritate me more that I should feel so.
"But what of you - why are you lurking around out here for?" I demanded. "I see it as rather bad manners to ask a question of someone if you are not to answer it yourself." A raised eyebrow was his response, followed quickly by a short chuckle, and somehow, once more, I found my bad mood evaporating, even though I really wished nothing more than to cling to it.
"A rather similar predicament to your own, I fear." he informed me with a rueful smile. "It appears that for some reason a certain young lady inside has decided to make me the centre of her attentions tonight, and, just between yourself and I, I really do feel that if I have to spend one more moment in her company I might just have to strangle her." I could not help laughing at that, knowing immediately from my earlier observations which 'young lady' he was referring to.
"Tara?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. He nodded, casting a hasty glance towards the door as if he expected her to come charging through it at any moment and discover him.
"Yes. apparently she had been 'simply dying to make my acquaintance' for a while now. I would not have objected so much, but unfortunately she neglected to inform me that, having done so, she would then proceed to make it so that I could not move two steps all evening without her following me. For the first hour or so it was rather flattering, but." he trailed off with a shake of his head. "So you can see, I hope, why I felt the need to. put some distance between us."
Even if I had not known Tara as I did, the similarities between his situation and my own would have aroused my sympathy, and I could see only too well why he had sought refuge away from his admirer. Also it seemed that, whether I liked it or not, I would have him as a companion for the foreseeable future and therefore resigned myself to trying to be a little more pleasant to him. I do not know even now why I treated him so badly beforehand, nor why he allowed me to, but I found myself feeling glad that, despite everything I had said, he had not let my rather cool behaviour give him cause to leave.
As if sensing my desire to put our earlier differences behind us and being of the same mind, Mr. Kennedy quickly initiated a discussion of the merits and otherwise of the guests inside, his witty comments causing me to burst into laughter on several occasions, which only added to the general goodwill that seemed to have fallen upon us.
"Oh but Archie, you simply have to, I insist!" he simpered, his high- pitched tone mimicking exactly that of Tara at her most exuberant.
"Stop. really, you should not say such things." I giggled, knowing that I should at least attempt to defend my associates, but finding myself completely unable to due to the fact that his impressions were just too accurate to be seen as anything other than hilarious.
He was in the middle of telling me of the scene Caroline Hautville had once created by refusing to allow him to accompany her to dinner after he had inadvertently insulted her by commenting on her 'purple' gown which was, in fact, 'lilac', when suddenly the music from inside caught my attention once more. It was a piece of which I was particularly fond, and usually I would never miss the opportunity to dance when it was played. Now though, due to circumstances that I could do nothing to change, I was unable to do so, and I felt my good humour lessen somewhat at the realisation.
"You like this piece?" my companion enquired, and I nodded, gazing longingly towards the window where I could see quite clearly as one by one each guest took a partner and prepared for what was in all likelihood the last dance of the evening.
"I do. it is one of my favourite," I admitted sadly, trying to tell myself that it was ridiculous to mind so much when it was, after all, only one dance. I could not help it though, something which must have been more than apparent to Mr. Kennedy as his next gesture clearly indicated.
"Then you must dance!" he declared, holding his hand out to me as he spoke. I did not yet understand his meaning though, and I sighed wistfully as I continued to watch those who, more fortunate than myself, were able to do so.
"I wish that I could," I informed him, shaking my head. He only laughed at that, stepping closer and taking my hand in his own.
"Oh but you can! Come on, I promise not to tread on your toes if I can help it," he replied, pulling me towards him as he spoke. His intention became suddenly obvious and I instinctively resisted, trying to pull my hand from his as I spoke.
"But someone will see! We really cannot, Archie. I mean." I protested, trying all the while to convince myself that the suggestion really was quite impossible. He did not listen though, brushing aside my protest with a laugh.
"No one will think to look out here whilst they are so busy trying to impress each other with their fancy footwork. And besides, that pillar there will keep us out of sight, I assure you, it is perfectly safe." his tone was soft and persuasive, his words dealing easily with my objections and turning them to nothing as he spoke. And the more I thought of it, the more I found myself compelled to agree with him. Why should I not dance? The music was calling and my feet were fairly itching to begin - so what was stopping me? With that thought I ceased to argue, instead curtseying slightly to him to indicate my consent.
"Very well, Mr Kennedy," I told him, drawing closer to him as I spoke. He smiled broadly, moving to rest his hand against my waist as my own found his shoulder.
"I am honoured, Lady Dewhurst," he responded with a grin as we began to dance. He danced well, and I could find no fault in his steps as we spun about the small space we had to make use of. And as we moved I found that I could give myself over to the music in a way I had never been able to before; not having to worry over whether my partner could keep up, I was able to lose myself in the pleasure of the dance completely. We danced and danced, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be guided by nothing more than the hand on my hip and my senses. So lost in the moment was I as a result that when the music finally ended I felt rather disorientated and had to cling to him for a moment in order to compose myself.
"Are you quite alright?" he asked me, his concern evident when I blinked up at him in confusion.
"Yes. yes I am." I managed, blushing under his close scrutiny. He watched me for a moment longer then nodded, reaching out to gently brush back a strand of hair that had fallen slightly over my forehead before speaking.
"It is a moving piece - one of Mozart's finest if my humble opinion can count for anything," he observed, making no move to break the contact that had been necessary while dancing. I agreed with him wholeheartedly, but was unable to do more than offer a weak smile as I tried to gather my senses about me once more. "My father had the pleasure of meeting him once," he continued when I did not speak, "A most eccentric man to say the least apparently, but then I suppose that is the price one has to pay for genius."
"I. I really should be leaving now," I informed him, more than a little embarrassed that I had allowed myself to become so completely carried away in the presence of someone who was really little more than a stranger to me. He nodded, releasing me as he did so, and I shivered, immediately missing the warmth that his closeness had given me. This did not go unnoticed either, and he gestured towards the door with a slight bow.
"You go in first - I will wait outside a moment longer I think. The air is doing me good and besides, I would hate for anyone to construct a wrong opinion of events if we were to be observed returning together," he commented, smiling softly at me. I nodded, seeing that his idea was a sensible one, although some part of me at least wished that I did not have to leave him just then. Rejecting such thoughts as being totally ridiculous I made my way to the door, surprised at how my hand shook slightly upon reaching for the handle. Berating myself for being so foolish I made my way inside, closing the door behind me and slipping as unobtrusively as I could manage back into the party that was drawing to a close.
"Ginny, where on earth have you been?" Charles demanded immediately as he made his way towards me. He was clearly irritated but I smiled at him, still feeling the exhilaration of the dance enough to be able to pretend at being glad to see him.
"I had a headache Charles and have been outside getting some fresh air," I informed him quickly, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder as I spoke to see if Archie had returned to the room yet. At that, Charles was immediately the picture of concern, fussing in a way that would usually have driven me to distraction but which I endured for the sake of adding credence to my story. "I am fine Charles, it has quite gone now and there is nothing to worry about," I told him, adopting what I hoped was an apologetic expression. "And I am so sorry to have missed dancing with you, I do hope that you were not too put out by my selfishness." He hastily assured me that he was not, and after that, all was well again.
Many guests had already left by that point, and as I was actually feeling rather tired after the night's events, I decided it was time for me to return home. Immediately Charles offered to fetch my coat, something which for once I was glad to let him do. The headache I had used as an excuse previously did in fact become reality at that point, and as I waited for him to return I comforted myself with the thought that soon I could fall in to bed and sleep. I closed my eyes briefly, only to have to open them again a moment later when I heard someone approach my side.
"I do hope you did not have too much trouble finding." I began, only to trail off when, instead of Charles returning with my coat as I had expected, I found Archie standing in front of me.
"I was just leaving, but I wanted to give you this before I did so," he told me, handing me a folded piece of paper that he had been holding as he spoke. Curious, I moved to open it, but as luck would have it, at that moment Charles appeared, giving him a frosty glare before moving to help me into my coat. Archie could not have failed to notice his hostility, but he merely smiled, contenting himself with glancing at me briefly but in such a manner that I almost started laughing right there and then and had to try hard to contain myself.
"I wish you a safe journey home, Lady Dewhurst," he informed me cheerfully, and then he was gone, pausing only to say goodnight to Meg before making his way out into the cool night outside. I quickly concealed the paper from Charles, knowing that he would insist on learning of it's contents and not feeling at all up to dealing with his sulking if I refused.
"I think it is time I were leaving as well," I said quickly, a yawn suddenly escaping me and supporting my words. After taking my leave of Meg I allowed Charles to walk me to my carriage, breathing a sigh of relief as it finally began to move and I was on my way home at last. As soon as we were a considerable distance from the house I reached for the paper again, eagerly unfolding it and wondering at what it could contain. The writing was small but well formed, and I had no difficulty in reading the words that were written there.
Ginny,
I hope that you do not find my writing to you like this offensive or inappropriate, indeed if you do so you have only to inform me of the fact and I will not trouble you again. I simply wished to thank you for turning what could have been an incredibly dull evening into one that was by all accounts highly enjoyable and to take the liberty to say that I hope you consider it in the same light and that I did not make too poor a companion. I would also like to remark upon the brilliance of your dancing and how I consider myself honoured to have had such a partner, but I fear that I have bored you enough already with this letter, and therefore will restrain myself.
Your obedient servant,
Archibald Ignatius Bartholomew Augustin Percival Tiberius Kennedy.
P.S. I do hope that you will see fit to continue to call me Archie - I fear that the breathlessness created by having to resort to such a name in its entirety could be rather damaging to your health.
I really did not know what to do, and even now that I have slept on it I still feel I am no nearer to making a decision. In fact, a great deal of my dilemma is in trying to ascertain if there is indeed a decision to make in the first place. I know that Mother would not approve of Archie having written to me, but I can see nothing wrong with it in itself or any reason for myself to become upset over him having done so. The letter contains nothing of which I should feel ashamed and I have searched my conscience enough to decide that neither he nor I acted in any way that could give cause for reproach if it were to be discovered.
Besides, by simply keeping the letter I have acknowledged its contents and the man who sent it, there really is no need for me to do anything further. And I would be perfectly content with this conclusion if it were not for the unfortunate fact that the letter included a return address. Surely it would be considered frightfully rude therefore if I did not at least send a short reply and to make some observation of my own? Especially as he took the trouble to fulfil his promise to me, showing all too well that he is a man of his word who is to be trusted. It would be rude and churlish of me not to at least recognise the fact and to tell him so, and as I do not know when, or indeed if I will see him again, the only way to do so is to write a letter in order to do this. I am torn, but I can think of no one to whom I could go to for advice in the matter. It would mean telling them everything and I really do feel that such a move would not be a wise one, even though I have no cause to feel guilty or ashamed. I am confused and unsure, and can see no way of easily remedying the situation. How tiresome this had turned out to be!
I have wasted enough time writing in here for one day I feel, I will try to put it from my mind for a while and hope that this will enable me to, in due time, reach a decision which will prove to be the best course of action.
As I was relating previously, the first hour or so of the party did not exactly live up to the high expectations I had set upon it, and by the time Charles thankfully left me to seek out the adoration of the rest of the ladies in the room, I was in half a mind to abandon the whole charade and just go home. I would have done so as well if it had not been for the thought of Mother's reaction if I returned so early, and, I am ashamed to say it, my own pride. It is a fault that I am aware of in myself, but I would not allow anyone the right to say that Virginia Dewhurst had left because she could not cope with an evening in the best company society had to offer.
Realising that this meant I was trapped for at least another hour until I could politely leave, I resigned myself to the fact with a sigh and looked around for someone whose company I could manage to tolerate for longer than a few minutes without wanting to scream. So I flitted from group to group for a while, talking to various acquaintances and trying my hardest to appear as if I were enjoying myself, and I like to think that I achieved a certain degree of success. After all, it is not so hard really. If you have a smile pasted to your face, people do not tend to look too closely to see if it is genuine or not.
I was busy trying my hardest to keep from falling asleep in the middle of Harriet George's description of her cousin's wedding the previous week, when suddenly the band struck up and the room was filled with music. I immediately cheered, if there is one thing that makes a party worth attending, it is the dancing. However, my happiness quickly turned to irritation again as at that moment I saw Charles looking around the room and remembered my earlier promise to dance with him. I knew from past experience that once he managed to attach himself to me I would not be free for the rest of the night, and suddenly I did not think I could stand it, even if it meant I would have to forgo the pleasure of taking part in the activity I so much enjoyed. I looked around quickly for some means of escape, and to my relief saw that the French windows leading out onto the balcony were open. Quickly, before Charles could locate me, I excused myself and made my way towards the doors, hoping the whole while that he was not following me. I pushed my way out into the cool night air, quickly closing the door behind me. And after a moment I breathed a sigh of relief, confident that I had not been followed. I could hear the music and the excited chatter as people began to dance and sighed, wondering how long I would have to wait before I could safely return inside. If only I had not promised Charles, none of this would have been necessary.
"A pleasant evening, is it not?" a voice observed suddenly from behind me. I turned sharply, only to discover Mr. Kennedy, leaning against a nearby pillar and regarding me with obvious curiosity. My surprise clearly amused him, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "Rather mild for this time of year, or so I have been told on numerous occasions tonight. I fear that all of Meg's guests have been struck down with that peculiar English complaint that compels one to talk of nothing but the weather." I was startled at finding that I was not alone as I had first assumed, and it took me a moment to be able to find the words to speak. My silence was evidently taken as displeasure however, and he sighed, straightening as he did so.
"Forgive me Lady Virginia, but I feel that you would be far happier if you did not have to endure the burden of my company. I will leave you in peace," he observed, bowing to me before making his way towards the door and leaving me to stare after him in bewilderment. I know that I should have just let him leave, but a combination of needing to apologise for my earlier rudeness and having no great desire to be alone outside caused me to stop him.
"I. please. stay," I blurted out suddenly, flushing when he turned back to me with a quizzical expression on his face. I continued hurriedly, the words falling out of my mouth in a tangled rush that I was unable to stop. "Forgive me, I was terribly rude to you earlier. I did not mean it. And please, call me Ginny," I do not usually feel so nervous or unsure around people, and I really have no idea what came over me, but by the time I finished I felt like a stuttering fool and really wanted nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. I could not have made such a bad impression as I had feared though, as although he looked undecided for a moment he finally smiled, moving back to where he had been previously.
"You do not need to ask my forgiveness for anything, I assure you," he told me, brushing aside any further protest with a wave of his hand. "As for calling you Ginny, I would be honoured to do so. Tell me though," he added, regarding me with a slight tilt of his head, "is it because you dislike your given name or simply because you have given up fighting against others who insist upon shortening it so?" His question surprised me slightly as no one had ever bothered to take the trouble of asking such a thing before. I was used to simply telling people what I wished them to call me and having them accept it.
"The choice was mine I am afraid," I admitted finally. "I refuse to be inflicted with such a name simply because of a grandmother that I have never met and my parents mistaken belief that they know something about Shakespeare." He laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement.
"Well I for one think it a great pity that such a beautiful name will be used so rarely, but far be it for me to disagree with a lady over something of such importance as what I am to call her," he commented. "Although I feel duty bound to point out that as far as names are concerned, your parents were positively kind. Mine on the other-hand." he trailed off, grimacing.
"Oh come now, if Archie is the worst that they could manage to decide upon, I think you have been positively lucky!" I protested. "I stand by my assertion that I have far greater cause for complaint than you, where names are concerned at least!"
"Believe me, if that were the extent of it, I would not grumble in the slightest," he assured me. "Unfortunately, although on the whole my parents tend to have impeccable taste, it seems to have left them rather severely around the time when it was necessary for them to choose a name for their only son. You have no cause to complain over your own name, I can assure you," he continued, his expression one of amused distaste. "It is lucky that I love them so much really, otherwise I would surely hold it against them."
"Well, if it is so bad, at least tell me so that I can judge for myself?" I asked, curious to hear what could be so much more awful than the name which I detested so much. He shook his head though, and I frowned slightly, unused to having such requests refused.
"I would hate to frighten you away now when we have only so recently been reconciled," he informed me, attempting to appear serious although he could not quite hold back the smile that was threatening to form on his lips.
"I hardly think that it can be as bad as you are saying!" I insisted, my curiosity heightened yet further. "Please. tell me?"
"Patience is a virtue, or so my Mother tells me," he commented, merriment twinkling in his eyes. "You have my word as a gentleman that I will tell you, but only when I can be sure enough that you will not run away laughing when I do so." And so I had to be content with that, as it was more than clear that he was not prepared to tell me at that point. With anyone else I would have felt offended, but somehow I could not bring myself to be anything other than amused, and still horribly, horribly curious about my new acquaintance.
"Well, if we are not to talk about names, do you have something else which you would wish to talk about?" I asked pointedly, hoping still at that time to convince him to tell me the information that had suddenly and quite unexplainably become so important for me to know. He only chuckled again though, tilting his head to one side as though considering something carefully.
"I had no topic in mind, but now that I think of it, I do have a question." he mused.
"Oh?" I prompted, wondering what it could be that he had to ask me. His question, when it came though, took me by surprise.
"I was merely wondering why it was that a lady such as yourself who clearly does not want for admirers, is hiding outside rather than being the centre of attention indoors where all the dancing is taking place," he told me. I flushed again, wishing as I did so that his words would not affect me in such a manner but being powerless to stop it. "Do you not like to dance?" he added when I did not speak.
"No, I. I enjoy dancing very much Mr. Kennedy." I assured him, unable to keep the wistful tone from my voice as I spoke. As I looked towards the house I could see the gaily-coloured dresses floating past and the music beckoned temptingly through the half open window behind me. If only.
"Please, I must insist that you call me Archie." he entreated, following my gaze to the window as he spoke. "So am I to take it that other matters have forced you to venture away from the party? Do not take offence at my question," he added hurriedly as if sensing I was about to object, "I was merely enquiring out of concern, I could not help noticing that you appeared rather flustered and hoped that there was no cause for worry." I could not find fault with him with words such as those however much I may have wanted to, and somehow I found myself telling him about my earlier promise.
"Well you see, I rather foolishly made a promise to Charles that I would dance with him tonight, but now.." I trailed off, realising how petty it all sounded. I had promised to dance and when the time arrived I had gone back on my word and run away like a girl of fourteen who does not know any better. What would he think of me? But it was too late now, the words had left my mouth and I could do nothing but let him judge me. He did not speak for a moment though, considering what I had just told him.
"You do not want to dance with him," he commented, finishing my sentence for me. I flushed.
"No, I do not want to dance with him," I repeated, slightly more emphatically than I had meant to and causing another amused glance from my companion.
"I am only glad that I have no aspiration to ever understand the fairer sex, as I fear I should be terribly frustrated in my efforts," he observed after a moment, smiling softly at me. I felt myself becoming cross again although I tried my hardest not to, the knowledge that I had no cause to feel offended at his words only serving to irritate me more that I should feel so.
"But what of you - why are you lurking around out here for?" I demanded. "I see it as rather bad manners to ask a question of someone if you are not to answer it yourself." A raised eyebrow was his response, followed quickly by a short chuckle, and somehow, once more, I found my bad mood evaporating, even though I really wished nothing more than to cling to it.
"A rather similar predicament to your own, I fear." he informed me with a rueful smile. "It appears that for some reason a certain young lady inside has decided to make me the centre of her attentions tonight, and, just between yourself and I, I really do feel that if I have to spend one more moment in her company I might just have to strangle her." I could not help laughing at that, knowing immediately from my earlier observations which 'young lady' he was referring to.
"Tara?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. He nodded, casting a hasty glance towards the door as if he expected her to come charging through it at any moment and discover him.
"Yes. apparently she had been 'simply dying to make my acquaintance' for a while now. I would not have objected so much, but unfortunately she neglected to inform me that, having done so, she would then proceed to make it so that I could not move two steps all evening without her following me. For the first hour or so it was rather flattering, but." he trailed off with a shake of his head. "So you can see, I hope, why I felt the need to. put some distance between us."
Even if I had not known Tara as I did, the similarities between his situation and my own would have aroused my sympathy, and I could see only too well why he had sought refuge away from his admirer. Also it seemed that, whether I liked it or not, I would have him as a companion for the foreseeable future and therefore resigned myself to trying to be a little more pleasant to him. I do not know even now why I treated him so badly beforehand, nor why he allowed me to, but I found myself feeling glad that, despite everything I had said, he had not let my rather cool behaviour give him cause to leave.
As if sensing my desire to put our earlier differences behind us and being of the same mind, Mr. Kennedy quickly initiated a discussion of the merits and otherwise of the guests inside, his witty comments causing me to burst into laughter on several occasions, which only added to the general goodwill that seemed to have fallen upon us.
"Oh but Archie, you simply have to, I insist!" he simpered, his high- pitched tone mimicking exactly that of Tara at her most exuberant.
"Stop. really, you should not say such things." I giggled, knowing that I should at least attempt to defend my associates, but finding myself completely unable to due to the fact that his impressions were just too accurate to be seen as anything other than hilarious.
He was in the middle of telling me of the scene Caroline Hautville had once created by refusing to allow him to accompany her to dinner after he had inadvertently insulted her by commenting on her 'purple' gown which was, in fact, 'lilac', when suddenly the music from inside caught my attention once more. It was a piece of which I was particularly fond, and usually I would never miss the opportunity to dance when it was played. Now though, due to circumstances that I could do nothing to change, I was unable to do so, and I felt my good humour lessen somewhat at the realisation.
"You like this piece?" my companion enquired, and I nodded, gazing longingly towards the window where I could see quite clearly as one by one each guest took a partner and prepared for what was in all likelihood the last dance of the evening.
"I do. it is one of my favourite," I admitted sadly, trying to tell myself that it was ridiculous to mind so much when it was, after all, only one dance. I could not help it though, something which must have been more than apparent to Mr. Kennedy as his next gesture clearly indicated.
"Then you must dance!" he declared, holding his hand out to me as he spoke. I did not yet understand his meaning though, and I sighed wistfully as I continued to watch those who, more fortunate than myself, were able to do so.
"I wish that I could," I informed him, shaking my head. He only laughed at that, stepping closer and taking my hand in his own.
"Oh but you can! Come on, I promise not to tread on your toes if I can help it," he replied, pulling me towards him as he spoke. His intention became suddenly obvious and I instinctively resisted, trying to pull my hand from his as I spoke.
"But someone will see! We really cannot, Archie. I mean." I protested, trying all the while to convince myself that the suggestion really was quite impossible. He did not listen though, brushing aside my protest with a laugh.
"No one will think to look out here whilst they are so busy trying to impress each other with their fancy footwork. And besides, that pillar there will keep us out of sight, I assure you, it is perfectly safe." his tone was soft and persuasive, his words dealing easily with my objections and turning them to nothing as he spoke. And the more I thought of it, the more I found myself compelled to agree with him. Why should I not dance? The music was calling and my feet were fairly itching to begin - so what was stopping me? With that thought I ceased to argue, instead curtseying slightly to him to indicate my consent.
"Very well, Mr Kennedy," I told him, drawing closer to him as I spoke. He smiled broadly, moving to rest his hand against my waist as my own found his shoulder.
"I am honoured, Lady Dewhurst," he responded with a grin as we began to dance. He danced well, and I could find no fault in his steps as we spun about the small space we had to make use of. And as we moved I found that I could give myself over to the music in a way I had never been able to before; not having to worry over whether my partner could keep up, I was able to lose myself in the pleasure of the dance completely. We danced and danced, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be guided by nothing more than the hand on my hip and my senses. So lost in the moment was I as a result that when the music finally ended I felt rather disorientated and had to cling to him for a moment in order to compose myself.
"Are you quite alright?" he asked me, his concern evident when I blinked up at him in confusion.
"Yes. yes I am." I managed, blushing under his close scrutiny. He watched me for a moment longer then nodded, reaching out to gently brush back a strand of hair that had fallen slightly over my forehead before speaking.
"It is a moving piece - one of Mozart's finest if my humble opinion can count for anything," he observed, making no move to break the contact that had been necessary while dancing. I agreed with him wholeheartedly, but was unable to do more than offer a weak smile as I tried to gather my senses about me once more. "My father had the pleasure of meeting him once," he continued when I did not speak, "A most eccentric man to say the least apparently, but then I suppose that is the price one has to pay for genius."
"I. I really should be leaving now," I informed him, more than a little embarrassed that I had allowed myself to become so completely carried away in the presence of someone who was really little more than a stranger to me. He nodded, releasing me as he did so, and I shivered, immediately missing the warmth that his closeness had given me. This did not go unnoticed either, and he gestured towards the door with a slight bow.
"You go in first - I will wait outside a moment longer I think. The air is doing me good and besides, I would hate for anyone to construct a wrong opinion of events if we were to be observed returning together," he commented, smiling softly at me. I nodded, seeing that his idea was a sensible one, although some part of me at least wished that I did not have to leave him just then. Rejecting such thoughts as being totally ridiculous I made my way to the door, surprised at how my hand shook slightly upon reaching for the handle. Berating myself for being so foolish I made my way inside, closing the door behind me and slipping as unobtrusively as I could manage back into the party that was drawing to a close.
"Ginny, where on earth have you been?" Charles demanded immediately as he made his way towards me. He was clearly irritated but I smiled at him, still feeling the exhilaration of the dance enough to be able to pretend at being glad to see him.
"I had a headache Charles and have been outside getting some fresh air," I informed him quickly, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder as I spoke to see if Archie had returned to the room yet. At that, Charles was immediately the picture of concern, fussing in a way that would usually have driven me to distraction but which I endured for the sake of adding credence to my story. "I am fine Charles, it has quite gone now and there is nothing to worry about," I told him, adopting what I hoped was an apologetic expression. "And I am so sorry to have missed dancing with you, I do hope that you were not too put out by my selfishness." He hastily assured me that he was not, and after that, all was well again.
Many guests had already left by that point, and as I was actually feeling rather tired after the night's events, I decided it was time for me to return home. Immediately Charles offered to fetch my coat, something which for once I was glad to let him do. The headache I had used as an excuse previously did in fact become reality at that point, and as I waited for him to return I comforted myself with the thought that soon I could fall in to bed and sleep. I closed my eyes briefly, only to have to open them again a moment later when I heard someone approach my side.
"I do hope you did not have too much trouble finding." I began, only to trail off when, instead of Charles returning with my coat as I had expected, I found Archie standing in front of me.
"I was just leaving, but I wanted to give you this before I did so," he told me, handing me a folded piece of paper that he had been holding as he spoke. Curious, I moved to open it, but as luck would have it, at that moment Charles appeared, giving him a frosty glare before moving to help me into my coat. Archie could not have failed to notice his hostility, but he merely smiled, contenting himself with glancing at me briefly but in such a manner that I almost started laughing right there and then and had to try hard to contain myself.
"I wish you a safe journey home, Lady Dewhurst," he informed me cheerfully, and then he was gone, pausing only to say goodnight to Meg before making his way out into the cool night outside. I quickly concealed the paper from Charles, knowing that he would insist on learning of it's contents and not feeling at all up to dealing with his sulking if I refused.
"I think it is time I were leaving as well," I said quickly, a yawn suddenly escaping me and supporting my words. After taking my leave of Meg I allowed Charles to walk me to my carriage, breathing a sigh of relief as it finally began to move and I was on my way home at last. As soon as we were a considerable distance from the house I reached for the paper again, eagerly unfolding it and wondering at what it could contain. The writing was small but well formed, and I had no difficulty in reading the words that were written there.
Ginny,
I hope that you do not find my writing to you like this offensive or inappropriate, indeed if you do so you have only to inform me of the fact and I will not trouble you again. I simply wished to thank you for turning what could have been an incredibly dull evening into one that was by all accounts highly enjoyable and to take the liberty to say that I hope you consider it in the same light and that I did not make too poor a companion. I would also like to remark upon the brilliance of your dancing and how I consider myself honoured to have had such a partner, but I fear that I have bored you enough already with this letter, and therefore will restrain myself.
Your obedient servant,
Archibald Ignatius Bartholomew Augustin Percival Tiberius Kennedy.
P.S. I do hope that you will see fit to continue to call me Archie - I fear that the breathlessness created by having to resort to such a name in its entirety could be rather damaging to your health.
I really did not know what to do, and even now that I have slept on it I still feel I am no nearer to making a decision. In fact, a great deal of my dilemma is in trying to ascertain if there is indeed a decision to make in the first place. I know that Mother would not approve of Archie having written to me, but I can see nothing wrong with it in itself or any reason for myself to become upset over him having done so. The letter contains nothing of which I should feel ashamed and I have searched my conscience enough to decide that neither he nor I acted in any way that could give cause for reproach if it were to be discovered.
Besides, by simply keeping the letter I have acknowledged its contents and the man who sent it, there really is no need for me to do anything further. And I would be perfectly content with this conclusion if it were not for the unfortunate fact that the letter included a return address. Surely it would be considered frightfully rude therefore if I did not at least send a short reply and to make some observation of my own? Especially as he took the trouble to fulfil his promise to me, showing all too well that he is a man of his word who is to be trusted. It would be rude and churlish of me not to at least recognise the fact and to tell him so, and as I do not know when, or indeed if I will see him again, the only way to do so is to write a letter in order to do this. I am torn, but I can think of no one to whom I could go to for advice in the matter. It would mean telling them everything and I really do feel that such a move would not be a wise one, even though I have no cause to feel guilty or ashamed. I am confused and unsure, and can see no way of easily remedying the situation. How tiresome this had turned out to be!
I have wasted enough time writing in here for one day I feel, I will try to put it from my mind for a while and hope that this will enable me to, in due time, reach a decision which will prove to be the best course of action.