Four: Ballgowns and Dancing

The ball was well under way when the three carriages bringing the navy's finest to the Langdon estate. They were taken through to the ballroom at the back of the manor, where wide french doors led out onto a patio looking over the sloping gardens of the wealthy. Most of the fleet's captains, and several lieutenants (including William Bush) had come, as well as the commodore and, of course, the admiral. It was a prestigious affair, but Horatio didn't much care for it. Bush and a few of the lieutenants moved away, and Horatio wished he could join them, but knew he had to keep up appearances. He looked around for a familiar face – Pellew cornered by Mr Langdon and Mr Brocklehurst, and most of the captains making for the wine and the ladies. By the french doors stood a memorable silhouette, and Horatio approached her, beating down his shyness. He bowed low.

"Miss Brocklehurst." He smiled.

"Good evening, Mr Hornblower." She replied, fixing him with a stare that stripped him of all speech. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, before gathering his muddled thoughts.

"It's a fine event, is it not, Miss Brocklehurst?" He said, clasping his hands behind his back and twisting his body to look at the rest of the room. Elizabeth sipped her wine, hiding her smile before she answered.

"The most reputable men and women are here tonight. It is certainly a memorable event, Mr Hornblower." Her quick tongue was certainly not his imagination, then. She wore a simple, pale dress of powder blue, set off by the silver-and-sapphire pendant about her neck and the silvery threads sewn into the lace in her skirts. She was dazzling.

"Are balls not to your taste then, Miss Brocklehurst?" He enquired lightly after a moment or two. She smirked.

"Please, sir, Elizabeth. And, no, I would say they were not high on my priorities." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "A sailing captain such as yourself, surely would not find these entertaining." Horatio hesitated. He could be polite, and lie, or he could be honest.

"The sea is certainly more predictable." He said, and she laughed softly at that. "But," he said, remembering his admiral's advice, "these events are a welcome change." Elizabeth shrugged lightly, a movement barely noticeable, but elegant in its utterance. "And, please, Mi–Elizabeth. You may call me Horatio. If we are to be on first-name terms, then I will not have you call me 'sir'."

"You are a captain of the navy, sir." Elizabeth replied. "Nothing else would be expected." Her smile was almost cold in its delivering, as she added. "If you'll excuse me, Mr Hornblower." She took her leave, and approached two women, of similar age, further across the room. Horatio berated himself for being so polite. Elizabeth was not one to be so careful with her words.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

He pouted his rosebud-shaped lips and looked at his feet, clearly bemused by her quick exit. Elizabeth watched him subtly from the other side of the room, pitying him and feeling guilty for her coldness. He was, after all, simply being a gentleman. Her friends – Megan and Hope smiled indulgently at one another.

"He's certainly handsome, Lizzie." Hope announced.

"And of great reputation, if the stories are to be believed." Elizabeth glared at her two companions.

"Whatever his looks, and whatever his reputation, he is simply another one of them."

"They are all 'one of them', Lizzie." Megan sighed in exasperation. "You cannot forever put off marriage because they do not share your liberal views."

"I will not idle my life away with someone who I do not love and who does not respect me as his equal!" Elizabeth spluttered, knowing that her friends had already resigned themselves to such a fate, and she too would have to eventually concede to her father that nineteen was the right age to marry. And marry someone of his choice. Elizabeth looked young for her age, but she was mature past her years. She kept many secrets from her friends, who were prone to gossip, and many more from her family. She could not bear the thought of giving up those secrets to a man of convenience and financial benefits. She was no romantic – love was a trick of the mind – but she certainly was no weak damsel in need of man. "And besides all that, I do not know Mr Hornblower, and indeed do not wish to." But her eyes belayed her words, as they always did, and strayed to Mr Hornblower. Horatio Hornblower, captain of the Hotspur. He had captured her from the moment she had set eyes on him. Megan and Hope shared a smirk, before wistfully agreeing that perhaps Mr Hornblower was no good match for any of them – he was a man of the sea, and would live at sea, and would die at sea. Elizabeth just muttered her agreement.

As the evening drifted into night, the music was struck up and people began to dance, laughter and high spirits filling the room. Elizabeth loved to dance, and joined in enthusiastically, accepting with most men (causing much gossip amongst the older women and much jealousy amongst the younger, most of who were too proper to have the courage to do the same). Laughing breathlessly, Elizabeth relinquished the lieutenant's hand as the music finished the song. Laughing brown eyes twinkled at her through a lined face. She bobbed a curtsey.

"Thank you, my dear Lieutenant Bush, but I fear I am done!" She panted, her feet aching and sides hurting. Bush chuckled, taking her hand once more as the music began again.

"One more." He announced, moving the familiar steps, eyes daring her. Not one to back down, Elizabeth just laughed and took her place in the dance, feeling herself whirled about by hundreds of hands, her skirts brushing the other ladies' and eyes catching each other. Her partner changed again as the beat took up, and found herself grasped in the safety of Horatio. She was thoroughly surprised, and looked for Bush, who had retreated to a chair on the edge of the floor. She looked back up at Horatio and managed a weak smile.

"I did not mean to offend you." He said quietly, near enough to her ear to be heard above the music, but not too close so as to cause a scandal (as much as Mrs Farthing would wish).

"You did not offend me, sir." She replied quickly, hating the fact that she could be so cruel sometimes.

"Then call me Horatio."

"My breeding requires me to respect you as a –"

"Captain? Of course. But if we are to be friends, then I would wish that you called me by my name." Horatio smiled brightly at her, and she managed a laugh.

"We are mere acquaintances, sir!" She announced, before switching partners as the music slowed a beat. When she resumed her partner once more, she found Bush back in his place, who apologised that he had gone.

"… But you had tired me out, being such an old man; I cannot keep up with youths!"

"You bully me, sir, you are no old man." She giggled. He cocked an eyebrow. "Sir, if you are an old man, you could not hope to keep up with this pace." She noted, as the tune twittered into life again. Bush conceded that he was not as old as he claimed, and proceeded to keep her for two more dances, before she begged to be released to breathe again.

She left through the french doors and wandered close to the patio, looking into the gardens at the fountain. It was a great piece of white marble, with cold, clear water trickling through it. She heard footsteps approaching, and Horatio came and stood next to her in silence.

"My grandfather commissioned it when he came into his wealth." She said eventually, nodding her head to the fountain. She walked towards it, Horatio keeping time with her steps. "It is made from marble, and the basin is real silver. The statuette of the unicorn in the middle is marble too, but the horn is made of pearl and the eyes are real diamonds." She stepped up onto the rim of the fountain above the pool of water, reached out and placed a finger under the faucet that spouted from the mythical creature's mouth. She looked at Horatio. "Is it not beautiful?"

"It is grand." Horatio answered carefully. "Do you not think it beautiful?" Elizabeth laughed, placing one step in front of the other. Horatio mirrored her movements as she walked the edge of the pool, running a finger over the cold marble flanks of the unicorn.

"I think it is a monstrosity." She stepped down and looked up at Horatio. "It is not beautiful, because beauty is not in appearances but in the soul. A statue with no soul cannot have true beauty." She looked back at the fountain. "The wealthy can make a pretence of beautiful things, but money cannot replicate a priceless thing." She smiled mysteriously at him, and Horatio felt a strange sense of recognition. Perhaps it was another similarity to Archie…

"You are quite the philosopher, Elizabeth." He said to dispel his thoughts. Elizabeth shrugged.

"I am quite the politician, quite the lady… quite what everyone wants." She moved away and looked back over her shoulder at him in a frighteningly memorable movement that he couldn't place. "My opinion is no philosophy, Horatio. I express a truth. Do you not believe in the truth?" He hurried to catch up with her.

"I believe in many such things. But, if I am only an acquaintance, why do you express these things to me?" She paused at the patio, in the pale slice of light from the ballroom and shook her head sadly at him.

"And they told me you were so perceptive, Mr Hornblower."