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Chapter 4
Crispin was dreadfully nervous. He could hardly believe how beautiful Lady Goldfield was, but he was still stunned by the very fact that he was glad to be dancing with her. After all, he hated balls; it was entirely unlike him to actually be eager to engage with a woman in attendance.
He had to remind himself that this was a ball just like any other and it would certainly not end differently. No matter how lovely she was, he would certainly have no similar interests with her. They would bore one another with little niceties and she would be every bit what he had anticipated from the other women there that evening.
Harry had suggested that he dance with one of the Lambton women as they were—supposedly—decent ladies.
But the only Lambton woman who had been present was the one Harry chose to dance with and that meant that Crispin would be dancing with a woman Harry didn’t even know. It was clear where this evening would go. Crispin had been to more than enough dances to understand.
“Shall we?” he asked, leading Lady Goldfield to the dance floor. He would just focus on the steps of the dance since conversation would merely lead to disappointment.
He took Lady Goldfield’s arm and she went along with him. There was something about her that seemed hesitant, and he realised that it was probably because he was doing nothing to hide his dismay. He would need to be more gracious and personable—even if he had no idea how to do that.
But, soon enough, the music began. At last, Crispin felt that he could simply move along with the steps and focus on that.
“It is a lovely room, is it not?” Lady Goldfield asked, drumming up conversation.
Crispin inwardly groaned, realising that she would not give him the peace he was seeking. She wanted to engage and converse, even if he most certainly did not.
“Yes, it is,” he replied.
“They have exquisite taste to employ such bold decor,” she said.
“Hmm, indeed,” he said.
She was quiet for but a moment before moving on, and Crispin tried to smile.
“And there is quite a large number of guests. There are a great many couples here this evening, more than I might have anticipated. I heard that their son only recently returned from a trip abroad, but it would seem that he has not lost his friends here in England,” Lady Goldfield noted.
“No, it would seem he has not,” Crispin agreed.
The conversation fell once more into an awkward silence. Crispin did not know what to say or how to elegantly exchange these pleasantries. He knew that he was expected to ask about Lady Goldfield and her family, but he simply did not want her to expect anything from him.
More than likely, her father was standing nearby, ready to pounce on him and discuss a dowry. But that was not something Crispin wished for in that moment.
“The musicians are exceedingly skilled. I am fond of this tune and this dance. Do you prefer faster or slower music?” Lady Goldfield asked, as if trying to encourage him to speak with her.
“Slower,” he answered. “I like to be able to acknowledge that my mind is still working, and I am not lost to the noise and chaos of everything around me.”
She smiled faintly at that and appeared amused.
“You remind me of someone,” she said.
“Oh? And who might that be?” Crispin asked.
“I am reading a book calledA Light Above the Manorby Winston Fulham—”
“Lord Blackford?” Crispin asked, wide eyed and taken aback.
Lady Goldfield appeared confused for only a moment before her expression changed to delight.
“You know the book?” she asked.
“Of course I do—it is one of my favourite books. I only recently finished reading it,” Crispin replied, surprised that she was reading it as well.
“Then you know that Lord Blackford is not accustomed to attending balls, nor does he like to speak very much. You remind me a good deal of him,” she said.
“To be frank, Lady Goldfield, I remind myself of him,” Crispin said, laughing. He could hardly believe that he was having an opportunity to bond with this woman over a book that he had so enjoyed. It was the last thing he might have anticipated from the evening.
