Vanessa hoped someone would ask her to waltz. Though most of all, of course, she hoped - "Ma'am," someone said from behind her shoulder with stiff formality, "may I hope that I am not too late to be granted the honor of leading you into the waltz." She turned her head and smiled brightly, happier than she had been all day. "You are /not /too late, sir," she said. "I will indeed waltz with you." She set her hand on his sleeve. "Oh, Elliott," she said, "is this not the most wonderful evening ever?" "Probably," he said as he led her onto the floor, "if I were to give the matter deep thought I would remember another evening or two that were equally wonderful. But certainly not more so." "You always say something like that." She laughed. "I have only recently learned the steps. I hope I do not trip all over my feet. Or, worse, yours." "We both know you weigh a ton," he said. "I would be doomed to walk around with flattened toes for the rest of my life." "/Half /a ton," she said. "You must not exaggerate." "But if I were to allow you to trip over my feet," he said, "I would have to judge myself a clumsy oaf and go home and shoot myself." "You /are /home," she reminded him. "Ah," he said. "So I am. I am reprieved, then." It was one of the happier surprises of her marriage to find that she could talk nonsense to Elliott and he would talk it right back. "Are you still angry at Constantine's coming and bringing Mrs.

Bromley-Hayes with him?" she asked. "He explained about her reputation, which I daresay you are aware of. But I was happy to see you talking with the lady, Elliott. That was kind of you. She left very early. I hope she did not feel unwelcome." "Let us not talk of the lady or Con, shall we?" he said. "Let us enjoy the waltz instead." "I hope," she said, "I do not - " But he leaned so close to her as he set one hand behind her waist and took her hand with the other that she thought for one startled moment that he was going to kiss her right there in the middle of his own ballroom with surely half the /ton /looking on. "You will /not /make a cake of yourself," he told her. "Trust me. And trust yourself." She smiled. "I believe," he said, "I told you earlier that you look pretty. I was mistaken." "Oh," she said. "You do not look pretty," he said. "You look /beautiful/." "Oh," she said again.

And then the music began.

She had loved the waltz from the moment she began learning it. She had thought it daring and romantic and graceful and… Oh, and a whole host of other things.

But she had never waltzed at a real ball until now.

And she had never waltzed with Elliott until now.

She had never before waltzed among flowers and perfumes and the myriad colors of the silks and satins and muslins and lace of dozens of guests or among the sparkle of jewels in candlelight or the glow of the candles themselves. She had never before waltzed to the music of a full orchestra.

She had never before waltzed with the man she loved.

For of course she was more than just /in /love with Elliott.

He led her into the steps of the waltz and she instantly forgot her fears of bungling them and making an idiot of herself.

She forgot that she was not really beautiful, that he did not really love her. She waltzed and it seemed to her - or would have if she had paused for conscious thought - that she had never enjoyed anything more in her whole life.

She kept her eyes on her husband's face - dark-complexioned, classically handsome, blue-eyed - and smiled at him. And he looked back at her, his eyes roaming over her features.

She felt beautiful.

She felt cherished.

And she felt all the splendor of her surroundings as they swung about her in loops of light and color - and saw only Elliott.

She smiled more dazzlingly.

And finally, at last, oh, at last, his eyes smiled into hers and his lips curved upward ever so slightly at the corners.

It was surely the happiest moment of her life. "Oh," she said when it was obvious the music was coming to an end - and she realized it was the first sound either of them had uttered since the waltz began. "Is it over so soon?" "It is," he said. "I forgot to give the orchestra leader instructions to keep on playing forever." She laughed into his eyes, where the smile lingered. "How remiss of you," she said. "Yes." It was time for supper, and they were forced to separate in order to mingle with their guests.

But Vanessa would remember this evening, she thought, as one of the most memorable occasions of her life. Even apart from its other attractions, it was the evening during which she had fallen all the way in love with Elliott - so deeply, in fact, that there could no longer be any distinction between being /in /love with him and /loving /him with all her being and for all time.

She spared a regretful thought for Hedley and then nudged it gently away.

That was then.

This was now.

And /now /was a very good time in which to be living.

20

VANESSA walked over to Merton House on Berkeley Square the following afternoon to call upon her sisters. They were both at home, though Stephen was out. He had gone with Constantine to look at sporting curricles, though in Margaret's opinion he was far too young to be thinking of tooling around in such an impractical and potentially dangerous vehicle. "I do fear," she said as they all took a seat in the drawing room, "that he might turn into a wild young man. He is vastly impressed with London and everyone he has met here so far. And the trouble is that everyone is impressed with him too, even gentlemen several years older than he is.

They will lead him astray if they can." "He is merely fluttering his wings, Meg," Katherine assured her. "He has not even spread them yet. But it is inevitable that he will. We must trust that he has a steady enough character that he will not turn irresponsibly wild." "I have to agree with Kate," Vanessa said. "Stephen must be allowed to be a young gentleman just like every other, Meg, and find his own way to being the person he wishes to be." "Oh, I suppose you are both right," Margaret conceded with a sigh. "Indeed, I /know /you are. It is just that he is still so very young. He is too young to be here, where there are so many distractions and temptations." "If it is any consolation," Vanessa said, "Elliott takes his responsibility to our brother very seriously. He will keep a careful eye on him in that male world into which we cannot intrude. And it is into that world that he has retreated himself this morning, wise man. The conversation at breakfast was of nothing but balls and beaux and conquests. Cecily has received no fewer than five bouquets from gentlemen with whom she danced. She has declared herself an unqualified success, and we have all agreed with her." "And you thought to escape by coming here?" Katherine said. "Have you looked about you, Nessie?" Vanessa did so now and laughed. Meg had always kept the house full of flowers in season, but never with so many lavish bouquets as adorned the room today. "/More /success?" she said. "And /more /beaux?" "Singular in my case," Margaret said. "The white roses are mine. The Marquess of Allingham was kind enough to send them. All the other bouquets are Kate's - four of them." "I was never more surprised in my life," Katherine said. "I felt like a country cousin last evening despite all my finery. This is all quite absurd." "Not at all," Vanessa said. "Both of you were more lovely than anyone else last evening and attracted a great deal of interest." "Because of Stephen," Margaret said. "Well, yes," Vanessa conceded. "Without Stephen we would all be back in Throckbridge living our old lives. But even there you both had more than your fair share of admirers. Enough of such talk, though. It is a lovely day. Shall we go for a walk in the park?" It was a welcome suggestion to two country ladies. And Hyde Park was large enough to seem like a good chunk of the countryside dropped right into the middle of busy London.