The Private Diary of Elizabeth Quatermain, vol. IV: Only in America
by Lady Norbert
A/N: This chapter, which is my personal favorite of them all, is lovingly and appreciatively dedicated to all those who have been following this story and rooting for the Skinner/Elizabeth relationship.
2 May 1900
Today was such a flurry of activity that I've not had a moment to sit down with this diary until just now. But I simply must record it all, for some things I shall wish to remember forever.
With the natural exception of Nemo, the members of the League attended services this morning at Reverend Miller's church. All the townspeople clustered near the exit afterward, and the crowd was buzzing with excitement over tonight's festivities. I confess I was a trifle nervous, as it has been some time since I attended a formal ball. (The dancing we had at our Christmas celebration, of course, could hardly be considered formal.) I was much surprised to learn that it was not to be a supper ball, which is the sort to which I am most accustomed; but then, supper balls are more frequently reserved for private parties, whereas this is an event for the entire town.
We took the evening meal at half past five, earlier than usual, for the ball began at seven. As the dancing hall is not far from the hotel, this gave us all sufficient time to prepare ourselves.
I was particularly anxious to make a good impression. Mina and I were the only Englishwomen who would be attending the ball, and so I desired to represent my mother country as best I could. Of course, I had other - more obvious - reasons for wishing to look my best, and I spent quite a long time fussing over my curls, some of which I allowed to drape down over my shoulders. My gown smelled, like all my clothes, of roses and cinnamon; I threaded the locket Skinner gave me onto a green velvet ribbon to wear around my throat, and drew on my new pair of gloves.
The gentlemen were still awaiting Mina when I came down the stairs at ten minutes until seven. Nemo, as usual, was dressed in his fine navy blue uniform, the nautilus shell gleaming on his turban. Tom was suited in brown; Henry, in his preferred black; and Skinner in dark green. He glanced up the staircase and watched me descend, giving me a grin; he always looks so pleased whenever I wear his mother's locket.
"Here's our bonny English rose, then," he said. I felt myself colour at that comment, but I merely smiled and joined them at the bottom. Mina appeared a moment later, wearing a sky blue dress I had not seen before, and together, the six of us walked to the brightly-lit dancing hall.
There was quite a crowd assembled in the entryway where each of us collected a dance card. (I have never saved one of these before, but I believe I shall keep this one, as a remembrance of - among other things - the only American ball I am ever likely to attend.) I looked over the list of the dances, which I shall record here:
The first set - the Grand March, Military Schottische, first waltz, polka.
Intermission for refreshment and toasts.
The second set - Spanish waltz, Denver Schottische, Virginia Reel, waltz.
Second intermission for refreshment and parlour games.
The third set - Polka, Home Circle Schottische, Snowball Reel, La Esmeralda, last waltz.
I heard someone - the proctor, I expect - calling for people to begin lining up for the Grand March. Tom, beside me, looked confused.
"Why's Mina lining up with Nemo?" he asked me.
I explained to him that it is considered improper for a married couple to dance together very much, as they are encouraged to mix with other guests as much as possible. "If a gentleman escorts a lady into the Grand March, she is 'his' lady for the evening, and he is obliged to partner her on the first and last waltzes as well," I said. "I expect we shall see Mina dance with Henry once or twice, but more than that would really be considered bad form."
"You society types sure have a lot of funny rules," he said, shaking his head but looking nevertheless amused. "Got a pencil for your card? I'll partner you on the Virginia Reel, if you like." I agreed to this plan enthusiastically, for Tom does a marvellous Virginia Reel (as I found out at Christmas), and our names were thus inscribed on each other's cards. "You're very pretty tonight, li'l sis," he said fondly. "Try not to break too many hearts, okay?"
"I doubt that will be a problem. Meanwhile, Tom," I said, glancing around and putting on an air of conspiracy, "I think there are a number of young ladies present who would very much enjoy the chance to do the Grand March with you." Indeed, there were a few who were sending interested gazes in his direction; the audacity of American girls is the wonder of the known world. He seemed not to mind at all, however, and with a parting wink for me, made his way through the crowd.
Suddenly, I realized that I was myself without a partner for the Grand March. I looked about wildly for the others; Mina and Nemo were taking their place in the line for the door, and behind them stood Henry, who had offered to escort Mrs. Singer. I could see Mr. Everett on the far side of the room, also without a partner, and wondered if he would shortly notice that I was alone.
A hand closed on mine. I looked up, very startled, but relaxed at once as Rodney, with one fluid movement, drew my arm through his own. He gave me a grin, and we went to line up behind the others.
"You're supposed to ask first, you know," I scolded him mildly.
"Oh, right, sorry. Do you mind if I hold up your arm for awhile?"
He is the cheekiest man I've ever known, he truly is. But I could not help laughing, and in truth I did not mind in the slightest. If I may be completely honest, I was extremely pleased.
The Grand March always takes a fair amount of time at public balls, simply because there are so many couples participating. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Everett start to approach, then stop abruptly when he realized I'd been partnered. The look he cast at Skinner was not terribly friendly, but Skinner took no notice. In time we progressed into the main hall behind Henry and Mrs. Singer, and all the couples watched each other gliding up and down the dance floor. Everything was quite bright and beautifully polished; there were flowers on tables, and the musicians were splendid.
I am not very skilled at the Military Schottische, so I elected to sit that dance out. Then came the first waltz, the "Blue Danube," and Rodney and I took our places among the other couples. We bowed, as form dictates, and as the music began he put an arm round my waist and took my hand. We'd danced together before, of course, on the Nautilus (though never a waltz), but it felt somehow peculiar to be held in this manner, in this place, and by him. There was something very...strong about it; that's not really the word I wish to use, but I cannot think of the one I want. I could not contemplate this for long, however, for he took me entirely by surprise.
"I'm impressed, Mr. Skinner," I said. (I only call him that when I truly wish to tease him.) "I had no idea you could waltz so well."
"Well, I haven't told you all my secrets, you know."
"I am beginning to suspect that."
After the waltz ended - and I do not recall a waltz ever lasting so brief a time - he escorted me back to where the others were clustered. Henry invited me to be his partner for the polka which was about to begin, and I accepted; after this came the refreshments, and the polka is so lively that I was eager for a cool drink.
As we enjoyed our refreshment and listened to the various toasts, my friends and I traded dance cards in order to claim one another as partners for the various pieces of music. Tom of course was already down for the Virginia Reel, and also put his name down for the Snowball Reel. I was engaged by Nemo for the Spanish waltz, Henry for the Home Circle Schottische, and consented to partner our landlord, Mr. Singer, for the La Esmeralda polka.
Mr. Everett finally found me, and inquired whether I had any space left on my dance card for him. I acknowledged that I was yet unclaimed for the waltz at the end of the second set, and the polka at the start of the third.
"I've already promised myself to someone else for the polka," he said, "but might I have the honour of partnering you for the waltz?" Of course I said yes.
I was then introduced, before the intermission could conclude, to Tom's partner from the Grand March. I was very much startled to learn that it was none other than the former Becky Thatcher, his old sweetheart who married someone else. Tom once confided to me that she had bruised his heart, and I was prepared to think ill of her for that reason; yet it was hard to look unkindly on the girl. She was much as Tom had described her, with golden hair and blue eyes, and her husband is a successful merchant, currently away on business. There was no hint of animosity between them, but rather the sense that they had slipped comfortably into the roles of old friends. I marvelled at his courtesy; if he will speak to me of it later, I must ask him how this all came to pass.
The second set began, and I danced the Spanish waltz with dear Captain Nemo, followed closely behind by Henry and Mina. Nemo is a remarkably skilled and graceful dancer, and I really enjoyed myself. I sat through the Denver Schottische, making small talk with Becky; she seems like a friendly creature and I found myself liking her. Then Tom came to dance the Virginia Reel with me. He is easily my favourite partner for dancing reels, as he is so energetic and full of life.
After Tom escorted me back to my seat, Mr. Everett appeared to claim his promised waltz. He is quite polished in his dancing, and I could see other people watching and pointing at us as we circled the floor.
"I do apologize for not coming to see you since our walk the other night," he said. "I've been very busy with running the town. The mayor sent a telegraph saying he may be away longer than expected."
"Please don't apologize, Mr. Everett. There's no need."
"I had hoped to be your partner for the evening," he confided. "I must confess I was a bit disappointed that Mr. Skinner got to you first."
"We came here together, my friends and I," I told him. "And he saw that I was alone when the Grand March was beginning. He is rather protective of me - they all are."
He glanced over my head. "I don't doubt that," he said with a chuckle. "I do believe he's had his eyes on us the entire time we've been dancing. Is he inclined to be...jealous?"
"I really could not say," I replied honestly. The conversation was taking a line I did not appreciate. As I turned, however, I cast a fleeting look in Rodney's direction, and it appeared that Mr. Everett was quite correct in his assessment. He was watching us; I think if he could have prevented me from dancing with Ben Everett, he would have.
If he felt jealous, however, it was without cause, for I realised something during this waltz: Mr. Everett is handsome, and charming, and eloquent. He has wit and good manners. And I felt absolutely nothing when he looked into my eyes.
When I danced the Spanish waltz with the captain, I could feel his parental affection for me in his glance and in the way he held me. During the lively polka with Henry and the Virginia Reel with Tom, their smiles assured me of their fondness. But this gentleman who danced so beautifully - I felt nothing for him, nor from him. I cannot encourage his suit any farther; it would be unfair to us both. We share no real attraction or interest. I could see Mina waltzing with Henry across the room, and the joy and love on their faces was like a light. I cannot bring myself to settle for less than that.
The next dance was the Home Circle Schottische; the Schottische dances all are tricky to me, but Henry does them well and promised to do his best to help me. Mr. Everett invited Mina to dance with him for this, and she accepted with cool graciousness, though she gave me a look that I understood quite well.
After the Schottische came the Snowball Reel, for which I again had the pleasure of partnering Tom. Our kindly landlord, Mr. Singer, took me through the La Esmeralda, and was so pleasant a partner that when it concluded I thanked him for the dance, which ladies are not normally required to do.
Then came the last waltz.
Henry collected Mrs. Singer, and Nemo escorted Mina onto the floor. Tom found Becky, and I found myself quite alone.
There came a tap on my shoulder, and I turned; Rodney had come up behind me. He gave me the most extraordinarily elegant bow I have ever received, and I felt a wild flutter within me as I returned the courtesy. The music began, and he started to sweep me around the room once again. The song they played was called "Home Sweet Home," a lovely and romantic-sounding piece I had never heard previously.
"I did not see you dance much," I said.
"Oh, didn't you? I did a turn with Mina, on one of those Schottisches."
"Was that all?"
"Yeah, well, my two favourite ladies have been a bit in demand."
As we looped around the ballroom, I felt strangely conscious of everything. I could distinctly feel his hand at my back, and mine on his shoulder; there was something quite noticeable about the way our other hands were joined. The music was all around us, and I was very aware that I was partnered by one of the best dancers in the room. For a time, I could have sworn I was partnered by the only other person in the room. Suddenly I felt nervous; we were looking into each other's eyes for so long, I feared I was staring
To avert my eyes for a time, I gazed around at the other couples. "These American girls are quite graceful dancers," I commented. "And so lovely. All the different colours of hair and dress; it feels as though I'm back in my aunt's hothouse, among the orchids and hibiscus and stargazer lilies."
"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, also looking around. "Yeah, I see what you mean." The song was just ending, and we bowing, when he added, "I prefer English roses, myself."
I felt myself colouring at these words, for I remembered his remark from earlier in the evening. Our eyes met as we straightened, and he smiled - not the usual impish grin, but a genuinely sweet smile that made my breath catch in my throat. If he noticed my blush, he did not comment as he led me off the floor and toward the exit. As swiftly as that, the party was over, though most people appeared to be in no rush to leave. Indeed, the band was striking up another polka; it is quite usual for balls to include dances beyond those listed on the cards. I had no desire to linger, however, and asked if we could go outside. I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe properly.
This is what I want. I may have been distracted for a little while, by the charms and attention of another man, but the ball restored me to my senses. My heart knows to whom it belongs.
In the entrance hall, we encountered Tom and Henry. "Nemo's taken Mina back to the hotel already," said Henry. "Tom and I were thinking of having a nightcap before heading back. Will you join us, Skinner?"
While they discussed this, I pulled out my fan and attempted to regain my composure; I still felt excessively warm from the last dance. Mr. Everett appeared at my side.
"May I escort you back to the hotel, Miss Quatermain?"
"Oh..." I started to try to explain myself to him, but just then, Rodney left our friends and reclaimed my arm.
"Sorry, mate, but the lady is with me."
I gave Mr. Everett an apologetic smile, though it was hard to do. At these words from Rodney, I felt my whole person light up. I do not think Mr. Everett failed to notice, either, for he gave a short, barely-polite little bow. "Good night, Miss Quatermain, Mr. Skinner," he said curtly, and left.
"Shall we?" asked my escort, with a note of something like triumph in his voice. He led me out of the hall.
It was, I admit, improper for me to be alone with him so late. Aunt Adelaide would have been scandalized. But it was only Skinner...and yet, that was the exact problem. Nevertheless, I did not release his arm, and it seemed to me that we were walking rather slowly, as though trying to make the stroll last. We entered the hotel, and he saw me to the bottom of the stairs.
"Had a good time, Bess?"
"I've had a lovely time. Thank you, Rodney."
He unwound my arm from his, bent, and kissed my hand. I felt that wild flutter again. "See you tomorrow, then?"
"Yes, of course. Good night." I started up the stairs.
"G'night, love."
I smiled down at him, feeling positively luminous. Then I came straight up here to write everything in this diary; I've not even changed out of my dress yet. And now - there's a knock at my door.
Oh, my word.
There was no one there, but someone left a rose on the floor; from one of the arrangements at the dance hall, I believe. The flower is a perfect blush colour, almost identical to my gown, and full of fragrance. I looked around and saw no one, but - as I know only too well, after spending much of the past year in Rodney Skinner's company - that means nothing. Just in case, I whispered "Good night" before closing the door.
Sleep will, I suspect, be a long time in coming. But after a night such as this, who needs dreams?