They were announced at the top of the staircase and descended, Mother holding tight to his arm and taking the stairs slowly to the main hall where the dancing had already started. A certain pervasive scent filled his nose—eau de ballroom. Beeswax candles mixed with strong perfumes and the fug of humanity stuffed into a tight space.
But there were few places that dazzled as much as a noble’s ballroom during the Season. The sparkle of glass in the chandelier, the shine of jewels, the cast of candlelight and silks the women wore—it could be quite overwhelming when one hadn’t been to a London ball in a number of years.
Any hope of going unnoticed vanished the moment his name was announced.
“Shall I find you later for a dance?” he whispered in his mother’s ear.
“Oh, do not worry about me. These shoes are ghastly for dancing anyway. How I will make it through the evening is beyond me.” She tapped him with her fan. “There is Lady Beckham. Deliver me there, my boy.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Joshua nodded to several distant acquaintances, former friends and important nobles. For the remainder of the evening, he would be required to renew connections, but for now, he greeted Lady Beckman.
“Ma’am.” He bowed perfunctorily.
Lady Beckham was ten years younger than Mother. At least.
But that didn’t stop her from turning an animalist gaze upon him, a lustful look that Joshua would ignore.
“Dear boy, it has been too long. How are you?”
“As well as can be expected.” He patted his mother’s hand. “I leave you in good company then?”
“A moment, Mr. Forrester. I would like to introduce you to my nieces,” Lady Beckham said.
“Your nieces? They are here? Why, I have not seen them since last summer,” Mother said. Then she turned a questioning glance to him, “You remember the Taylors? Their father owns land next to Long Leaf.”
Joshua could see the pleased smirk on her face, as if she had arranged the meeting. He remembered the Taylors. Little hellions who’d pestered all of the Forresters, except Adam. He’d been too old and too staid to put up with the girls.
A crash of memories flooded his brain, but they were all fragmented and the girls all seemed to morph into one image—plaited hair, freckles and missing teeth.
Lady Beckham reached for the elbow of one of the girls, gathered together in a group behind them. “Dearest. Come, all of you, and make your curtsey to Mr. Forrester.”
Oh, yes. They were familiar. The names eluded him.
“Mr. Forrester,” one said. Katherine. Kat was her name.
“Miss Taylor.”
In quick succession, there were introductions, bobs and bows. Prim smiled, Jenny raised one brow and Kat insisted upon the next free dance.
“And then you must dance with me,” Prim announced.
“But I’m afraid I’m not approved to waltz, Mr. Forrester. Perhaps a quadrille?” Jenny said. She was the youngest.
Joshua had left home when he was eight to attend Harrow, but the summers were spent at Long Leaf until he left for good at sixteen, first to attend university and then to travel. Some memories started to solidify as they talked. The Taylor girls weren’t shy wallflowers.
“As you wish,” he said.
They were attractive girls, certainly. Dressed to perfection, an innocent display of rounded breasts, beautiful teeth and smiles. The freckles had diminished. Each had their hair swept up but with tantalizing curls bouncing on their shoulders.
“And your parents? I haven’t seen them for a number of years.”
His mother whispered something to Lady Beckham; the Misses Taylor turned their not inconsiderable attention upon him.
“Papa is gouty and Mother stayed in the country to be with him. But we couldn’t miss the Season, now could we?” Kat added.
“It would be a tragedy indeed,” he said. “I suppose you are all diligently pursing a man with a fortune?”
They laughed, but Kat touched his arm. “Sir, how impertinent. One doesn’t discuss such things as money.”
“So I’ve been told, but I’d wager you do it anyhow.” They laughed at him. They were flirty things, making him smile but also causing a frisson of dissonance. How young were they?
“But Papa has a generous dowry set aside for us, if you are interested,” Prim said.
“Miss Taylor, now I remember why I left Long Leaf. It was to escape the flirtations of young misses.” When met with the force of such happy, adoring faces, one couldn’t help but give in. He shouldn’t be smiling at them. It would only encourage undue affections.
“You can still call us by our given names. We are neighbors, after all.”
“And I suppose you still mount your horse astride and gallop all over the countryside, hair down and disheveled?”
Kat pinkened.
“Of course she still does. Only she wears a proper bonnet now. Mama says it’s time she stopped acting like a hoyden.”
“Prim!”
“I won’t tell, Miss Taylor,” he said to Kat.
“I should think not, especially since it isn’t true.”
“That you’re no longer a hoyden?”