Page 70 of Trouble

The ballroom had been utterly transformed. Emily had helped, of course, but she had been stretched too thin to step back and appreciate the full effect, and the last time she’d seen it there had still been ladders and crates of decorative miscellany cluttering the place.

Now it looked enormous, the furniture gone, arrangements of creamy roses and bright forget-me-nots scattered across every available surface. There were crowds of candles on the mantel, and free-standing candelabras arranged strategically to create little pockets of gold light and Meera’s carefully arranged shadowy, clandestine corners. A table groaning with Joe’s finest refreshments had been placed along the west wall, and there was a string trio playing something lively near the hearth.

The guests were in high spirits, laughing and dancing and flitting from group to group. The amount of extravagance in the room – encircling necks and wrists, lining men’s coats, from fine brocade shoes and expensive lace trimmings – was staggering, and it turned Emily’s stomach. A man in an excessive jacket stood piling his plate high with food – food enough to last him an hour, as if he was trying to ensure that there was nothing left for the rest of the guests. A woman wearing an elaborate floral hat, with a bodice so high and narrow that it was practically no more than a ribbon, dropped a glass on the floor and laughed when it shattered, walking away as if it had nothing to do with her at all.

Emily’s first task of the night was to shepherd Grace in so that she might curtsey and smile and impress all who looked upon her. It was hoped that letting her attend for five or ten minutes might sate her appetite for party-going, and that she would then retire in peace to bed.

Emily harboured strong doubts. They knew not what they were about to unleash.

Grace looked very sweet in her party dress, and she did curtsey and exchange pleasantries with some of Captain Edwards’s friends, although admittedly there were rather too many questions about their canine companions. The captain himself was busy across the room; Grace used this as an excuse to stay for much longer than she had been instructed, but eventually Emily managed to pull her away. Ensuring that she actually got into her bed was impossible; Emily left her, instead, with strict instructions to only stay up for another few hours, and impressed on her thatifshe did sneak down to catch another glimpse of the guests, it was of the utmost imperative that she did not get caught.

Emily went to check her ridiculous hair, then sat in her room listening to the sound of music and hubbub below with as much apprehension as if it were screaming and cannon fire. When Akia finally came to fetch her so that they could attend for the last few dances, she accepted her fate with a grim face and a stout heart.

‘You do know that nobody is going to perform surgery on you,’ Akia said in her ear, her voice light and full of laughter.

Emily just swallowed, and braced herself for something potentially far worse.

Without Grace, she had nobody to hide behind; she was no longer just the governess, but awomanattending a ball.

It was dreadful. If it weren’t for Akia by her side, she would have sprinted for the exit.

Only now, standing next to one of the candelabras that Meera had so meticulously measured, did it occur to Emily to wonderwhyCaptain Edwards would choose to throw a ball when his finances could barely stretch to cover such a thing.

And then Mrs Augusta Spencer glided across the room, beautiful enough to draw all eyes and a little sigh of longing from a rather drunk man standing near Emily’s elbow – and it all made sense.

This ball was forher. Perhaps, Emily thought, with a sickening little cramp in her chest, he would propose to her tonight. Emily felt as if she ought to have been forewarned, somehow, but there was no reason he should have told her. She was not entitled to the private machinations of his heart.

She was his employee. Staff. Any hints of candour or affection in her direction had been solely due to the fact that he’d needed somebody to talk to, and she’d sometimes happened to be nearby. If Oliver had been the one to tie up his hand or bring him soup, she was sure the captain would have unburdened himself in his valet’s direction instead, andOliverwould not have presumed Captain Edwards to feel anything approaching romantic in his direction.

Although .?.?. Oliverwasat this very moment ensconced in one of the dark corners with a young blond man who kept laughing quietly at his jokes, and he had the sort of nervous, electrified gaze that indicated there might indeed be romance on the cards that evening – so what did Emily know?

‘I need a drink,’ she said to Akia. ‘Can we .?.?. ?’

‘Here,’ said a stranger in an apron, offering her a tray.

‘Er .?.?. thank you,’ said Emily, taking a glass and handing one to Akia, too, before the maid moved on. ‘Who on earth is that?’

‘What?That’s Sarah. She works here,’ Akia said, looking horror-struck. ‘Please tell me you recogniseSarah.’

Emily gaped after her for a moment before her mouth snapped shut.

‘You’re making fun of me,’ she said.

‘I am,’ said Akia. ‘It’s just soeasy. Sarah works for Mrs Spencer – Meera called in some extra help so we could join in for these dances. You didn’t think these people were going to servethemselves, did you?’

Emily felt that old, hot hatred boiling up inside her again, watching them waste food and spill drinks and act as if the serving staff didn’t exist. She had somehow let herself forget – lulled by the comforts of the house, the informality, mollified by the fact that Captain Edwards was not actually as rich as she had imagined him to be. Now, as she watched an elderly woman positively dripping with diamonds frown at Meera from across the room, she wanted to take all their decadence and haughtiness and frippery and crush it beneath her heel.

‘Oh dear,’ Akia said. ‘You have a murderous look about you. Farewell.’

She crossed the room to talk to Meera, leaving Emily standing on the edge of the revelry, feeling spiky and foolish andwrong.

It didn’t matter how nice a dress Grace had chosen for her, or how carefully Akia had arranged her hair – she didn’t belong here. She didn’twantto belong here. She probably looked ridiculous in this outfit, which was worth more than she had ever earned in her life; the other guests were likely sniggering at her from behind their fans, enjoying the spectacle of the plain governess playing at somebody worth dancing with.

Enough of this. She wouldn’t give them the chance. She had no idea what she had been thinking, agreeing to come to aballin the first place.

Emily swiped a second glass of wine and stalked from the room, barely stopping to apologise when her elbow knocked a gentleman entering from the hall. She kept going until she reached the stairs. The first drink vanished far too quickly; she left the empty glass balanced on the banister, knowing she’d probably be the one who had to deal with it later.

Five steps and two more gulps of wine later, she heard someone call her name.