*****
The ball was two days later and duly dressed in the latest and best that money could buy in London, Bertie Collins-Margrave, Lord Haverpool escorted his aunt to their waiting carriage at the front steps, and they rode in stately fashion to the enormous home of The Marquis of Callander. It was ablaze with lights. Servants were everywhere and rushed to help his aunt from the carriage. The Callander mansion was very large and very ornate. The carriages were being ushered away as new ones arrived and Aunt Agatha and Lord Haverbrook alighted at the foot of the carpeted steps that led into the foyer and then the ballroom. An orchestra was already playing at the far end, and the room was already full of beautifully attired guests. There were seats for the older folk and Bertie escorted his aunt to meet the hosts. Once greeted, he took her to seat with a good view of proceedings and she joined some friends who were obviously set for a jolly good gossip.
He looked around and spotted Badger with a glass in hand and headed in that direction. The house was, in Bertie’s opinion, over the top with decoration. The walls were overdone with plasterwork and marble, and there were so many plants in pots that it was difficult to navigate the room. In each corner, there was a sort of pavilion effect as if the place was set up to watch a medieval jousting tournament. He fleetingly wondered if the host was going to sit under one like a sort of King Arthur. The two men stood and surveyed the assembly and Bertie thought that Badger had come up to date. “I say, Badge, you are wearing the new tight trousers.” Badger grinned at his friend and told him that his sister had made him read the magazines that Caroline had introduced. “Well I must say, it looks good,” Bertie concluded. He scanned the room and noted that some of the younger ones were clad in fashionable gowns, and some were still a little dated. Most of the young ladies were wearing the empire line dress which had been popular for some time and was quite flattering. The material gathered under the bust line and fell away to the floor. Some of them had a small train which could be hooked up for dancing and some of them were very delicately and ornately decorated. The colours were so varied that it almost looked like a collection of butterflies in the garden. The young women held fans that they fluttered, and lots of them held up the skirt with the other hand. Most of them had their hair swept up and caught into small curls clustered to the head. The older ladies like his aunt wore bonnets. An old friend who was a military man came over and greeted the two men. The military jackets and very tight trouser always caught the eyes of the opposite sex and William Grey was very aware of the eyes on him as he strode across the floor. “Smart as ever, old boy.” Bertie greeted the man and the they talked of what was happening in the military world.