Willoughby's Return_ A Tale of Almost Irresistible Temptation - Jane Odiwe [85]
Marianne and William were soon absorbed in conversation with the elders of the party, which left Henry, Antoinette, and Margaret all looking at one another.
“I have never seen such a splendid ballroom,” Margaret began, wishing to say something to cover the silence that ensued. “And so many people in one place, parties in Devonshire are such small gatherings by comparison.”
“It is very beautiful,” agreed Mademoiselle Antoinette, regarding the room about her. “Do you enjoy dancing, Miss Dashwood? We both love to dance, don’t we, Henry?”
Margaret felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, I do enjoy a dance very much. At home I love going to the assemblies above everything else. I particularly enjoyed a ball my sister gave a few months ago at Delaford. Mr Lawrence was there also.”
“Charles Carey and his friend have been included in the invitation,” interrupted Henry, “I expect they will be here in a moment. I hope that is to your liking.”
Margaret looked at Henry's countenance. He was staring at her with such a blank expression that she wondered how she could ever have thought there was anything more between them than polite civility. “It will be pleasant to see Mr Carey and Mr Mortimer again,” she answered, looking down at the floor. She wanted to move away, the silences subsisting seemed to be growing ever longer.
“Here you are at last!” cried a voice behind them and for once, Margaret was pleased to see Mrs Jennings, though not so thrilled to observe her companions, Mr and Mrs Robert Ferrars and Anne Steele.
“Are Mr Mortimer and Mr Carey anywhere to be seen yet? I should not say it, but I know those gentlemen will be on the lookout for us if they are in the vicinity,” said Anne to Margaret, as she giggled behind her hand. “Mr Mortimer is so brazen in his addresses that Lucy's teasing is mortifying, but I know Mr Carey is very particular about you, Miss Dashwood.” She turned toward Henry and his companion. “Do you not think so, Mr Lawrence? Have you noticed how much Mr Carey seems to enjoy Miss Dashwood's company?”
Margaret could have died, especially when she felt Henry's eyes on her countenance. How could Anne have said such a thing to Henry, above all people? She instantly blushed and looked down; she could not meet his eyes. Fortunately, Mr and Mrs Ferrars now took over the conversation and in the ensuing exchange of gossip, where Margaret could not bring herself to utter a single word; she managed to manoeuvre herself away from Henry and his companion, to place herself between Marianne and the Colonel. Everyone was talking at once, Henry and Antoinette seeming to have eyes only for one another. Therefore, she was quite relieved when a tap on her shoulder and a friendly hello announced Mr Carey and Mr Mortimer. Margaret was made the centre of attention, which was quite enough to restore her spirits a little, especially when she noticed Henry looking over.
“Oh, let him think what he wishes,” she thought. If he really didn’t realise where her true affection lay, what could she do? In any case, she thought it was very clear where Henry's heart's desire tended. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of revealing her true feelings, she endeavoured to be as bright, sparkling, and witty as she could.
“We are just in time, Miss Dashwood,” said Charles Carey, “I hope you have not promised the first dance yet. Please say that you will honour me with your company on the dance floor.”
“Mr Carey, I would be delighted to accept,” she declared at once, immediately linking her arm through his and smiling up at him.
“I will show Mr Lawrence that I do not care for him,” Margaret thought. “Yes, stare at me, Mr Lawrence. See, I do not even wish to dance with you.” Turning her back on Henry, Margaret proceeded to talk animatedly to Charles, who looked down at her face with admiration. The orchestra were tuning their instruments; it was time to take their places. Gradually, the hum of voices, punctuated