The ball that followed was so far beyond anything Anna had experienced before that she only wished she could sit on the sidelines as some mothers and chaperones did, simply observing it all. But it was all for her, and she was very much the focus of attention.
The ballroom itself took her breath away. It seemed enormous, though it was probably not much larger than the ballroom at Westcott House. It was decked with banks and pots and hanging baskets of pink, peach, and white blossoms and green ferns and was fragrant with their scents. Gilded chairs upholstered with dark green velvet were arranged side by side around the perimeter. The wooden floor had been polished to a high gloss. The coved, painted ceiling was hung with three large crystal chandeliers, all of them fully fitted with lit candles. A pianoforte and other instruments on the dais at one end of the room awaited the orchestra. Double doors at the other end were thrown back to reveal a square chamber set with white-clothed tables, silver urns, crystal decanters, and empty space that would soon hold trays of dainties for the refreshment of the guests. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined one long wall, doubling the light and effect of the floral displays. Along the wall opposite, French windows had been opened onto a wide, lantern-lit stone balcony.
“And it is all in your honor, Anastasia,” Aunt Louise said. “How do you feel?”
“It is beautiful, Aunt,” she said, evading the question.
Guests started to arrive soon after and continued to stream in for longer than an hour as Anna stood inside the doors with Aunt Louise on one side and the duke on the other. She listened carefully to the majordomo as he announced each guest and tried for a while to memorize names and faces and to remember how perfect etiquette dictated she greet each one. But it was impossible. And how were so many people going to fit into the ballroom, let alone dance?
It did not take long for Anna to realize—as she had expected—that she did not look very gorgeous at all in comparison with every other lady who came through the doors. All of them glittered with jewels, their gowns marvels of frills and flounces, lace and ribbons and marvels too of the law of gravity. How could they possibly feel comfortable with bodices so low that disaster was a mere fraction of an inch away? Heads abounded with curls and ringlets and coronets and turbans and tall, waving plumes. Perfumes were almost overpowering.
And then it was time for the dancing to begin, and the duke led her onto the floor for the quadrille. She had learned the steps at school and brushed up on them with Mr. Robertson, but it had been too formal a dance to be much favored at orphanage parties. Anna danced it now with her heart in her throat, for she knew everyone was looking at her—and it was not conceit that made her believe so. The Duke of Netherby really did outshine every other gentleman present, of course, and he danced with elegance and with his sleepy eyes directed fully at her, with the result that she soon forgot to fear she would miss a step or a whole sequence of steps. She looked back at him and forgot too that she was a curiosity to all these people—the crème de la crème of polite society—and that she would be spoken of and judged tomorrow in fashionable drawing rooms and club rooms throughout London. She simply enjoyed the dance.
She enjoyed dancing the second set with Cousin Alexander too. He was a complete contrast to the duke—tall and well built, darkly handsome, immaculately and fashionably elegant, and kindly.
“I hope you do not think, Anastasia,” he said before the music began, “that Lizzie forced me into complimenting you on your appearance before dinner. I spoke the truth. Simplicity suits you. It speaks of your upbringing and yet is suited to the change in your station.”
“Thank you, Alexander.” She smiled at him.
“My family and close friends call me Alex,” he told her.
“And I am family,” she said. “Oh, how I dreamed for years and years of being able to say that to someone, Alex. And now I can say it to several people.”
He danced the steps of the country dance with careful precision when it would have suited her better to dance with more exuberance. She followed his lead.