I felt indescribably relieved upon seeing Mary appear at the end of the aisle, her arms linked with her soon to be father in law. She was smiling sweetly and no one would have believed that she had been considering leaving the man in front of her at the altar. Jeremiah, who had been leaning heavily on his cane, immediately straightened up at the sight of her and a few older ladies began to whisper about her low cut dress. She smiled at me as she passed and I saw Cassidy give me a reproachful look when she and Betty walked past, having followed the bride.
The ceremony was short and sweet with a madly grinning groom, a surprisingly emotional bride and a seemingly bored priest. The reception was held at the same venue and dancing and drinking began almost immediately after the couple were introduced by the priest as "Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson". After the Jeremiah and Mary's first dance, all the younger people present filled the floor, with the exception of myself. I stood next to John, drinking champagne. I don't often drink, as I have the tendency to giggle, which is just plain embarrassing. However, today was a special occasion and I was in a good humour, especially after overhearing a particularly amusing piece of gossip. News of my old love affair with the bride had spread through the wedding guests with the help of Cassidy. I'd heard her complaining of it to a vapid looking friend of hers.
"I love Mary to bits, obviously," she'd said. "But I can't understand why she has all the handsome young men running after her. If it isn't enough that she managed to ensnare Jeremiah, she's ruined the young man who came with Dr. Clarkson for everyone else and he's a doctor. It's plain selfishness is what it is"
As I smirked to myself while imagining how Cassidy would react were I to explain to her that it was not the bride who had ruined me for everyone else, but the groom's father, John nudged me. "You really ought to ask someone to dance," he told me. "It'll look suspicious if you don't"
I felt disgruntled, having no desire to dance with vapid young women, but I saw the sense in his suggestion. Roaming the reception area in search for someone to dance with, I came across Betty, who was besieged by suitors and looking as disgruntled as I felt. Betty didn't particularly like going to social events and she certainly had no desire to lead anyone on as she had no intention of marrying. In order to do this effectively she staunchly refused to dance during all social occasions. However, she had danced with her brother while Mary was dancing with Dr Clarkson and for some reason this had given the slightly intoxicated young men at the party a vague hope of having Betty for a dance partner. Stepping in to rescue her, I asked if I might have the next dance. Looking relieved she accepted earning me several murderous glares from her would be partners.
As we took to the floor, I remembered how much I actually did love to dance. A fast tune was playing and Betty and I tore up the floor, to the peril of the other couples around us. She was light in my arms and responded to every movement I made with grace. I remembered dancing with Daisy, the clunky kitchen maid at Downton, and almost laughed at the comparison. It was no wonder Betty was such a sought after dance partner, she was certainly an accomplished and lively dancer. I felt a kind of reckless abandon as we circled the floor together that had something to do with a large amount of alcohol and the festive air of the reception. As Dr Clarkson told us later, we'd both unwittingly started a new brace of rumours that night. We were well matched on the dance floor, both dark and pale as well as more or less equally skilled. This as well as Betty's well known refusal to dance with anyone due to her intention never to marry and the number of times we danced throughout the evening, led guests to suspect we were in some way attached. The popular story was that I had asked Betty to marry me and she had refused due to her love for the damaged soldier in the mental hospital which she constantly visited. The story amused both Betty and I as it was so soppily sentimental and we laughed heartily over it when John repeated it in the kitchen of her London townhouse, which Mary and Jeremiah had abandoned in favour of a hotel. When Betty left us to ourselves and made her way to bed however, I saw a seriousness in John's eyes that I could not ignore. I asked him about its cause and he shook his head.
"In a way, it will be a good thing if the rumour lasts," he said in an evasive tone, "it will explain your connection to the family"
I could sense there was more to his seriousness, so I prompted him. John eventually sighed, before answering. "You're going to think I'm idiotic, but when I saw the two of you together and heard the old ladies gossiping about you both, I almost believed them". I snorted at this, but John shook his head again. "You're of the same age and together you both looked…" he trailed off.
I slid into John's lap, sensing he needed some reassurance; the man is annoyingly possessive, though he tries not to be. "In case you haven't noticed," I said quietly in his ear, "as lovely as your daughter is, I am not that way inclined. Were it not so scandalously inappropriate, I would have danced with you instead"
John's moustache tickled my face as I felt him smiling. "I'm too old for that kind of dancing," he told me.
"Well, I suppose we won't be able to do that," I acknowledged, before beginning to nibble his ear, "can you think of something you're not too old to do?"
John's arms wrapped possessively around my waist, "yes," he purred, "I can". In that moment I remembered John's possessiveness was not always annoying.