Chapter One – The First of Many Balls. Turn Three.Then, it is time to dance with this all-too-remarkable Mr.Arcy!
”Gosh,” blushed Lady Meyerschmidt-Cripeton, as she followed Mr Arcy’s lovely yet also terribly masculine hand onto the dance floor.
...The lights sparkled; the music glittered; the assembled ladies and gentlemen twirled, advanced, retreated: yet what followed for Lady Meyerschmidt-Cripeton could only be called a disappointment. When Mr Arcy wanted to lead one way, she resisted, and wanted to go the other. When Lady Meyerschmidt-Cripeton wanted to offer a glowing smile and a twinkling eye, he was distracted, and looking elsewhere. When she thought of a rather witty
bon mot, a nearby trumped thundered inopportunely, and he heard it not.
As the second dance came to an end, Mr Arcy made his politest excuses, and, with a look of slight disappointment, wandered off into the crowd, leaving the unfortunate ladypigeon on her own in the midst of the bustle.
Mr Arcy likes you slightly less!implicitly accepting Reverend Halfton's offer by moving in to position for the next dance. While Charlotte had yet to become a skilled dancer, she was certainly enthusiastic and was at least aware of all the necessary steps. It was her fervent hope not to repeat the disasters of some of her fellow ladypigeons.
"Now Reverend," coyly asked Miss Charlotte,
"You must tell me more about yourself— have you been in Feryton long? Isn’t it rather wonderful, being a priest?"”Oh, but you silly thing! I am but a Reverend, not a priest – you know, a priest cannot take a wife, which I am sure even the most devoted of them would regret were he to see a ladypigeon as charming as you, Miss Fantail.”Blushing at this forwardness somewhere under her feathers, Charlotte waddled elegantly to the dance floor, eyes shining as beautifully as they ever had under Miss Isabella Villar’s very expensive chandeliers.
”And so, you see, it is even more wonderful to be a Reverend… One can serve yet also retain a certain… connection with the material world, which, one might argue, helps us to understand it better – and so perform our duty better...”...He continued to speak thusly as they began to dance, in a way that the pretty but moderately dim-witted young ladypigeon failed to entirely grasp, but it sounded rather intelligent and, Miss Charlotte would certainly have admitted, rather grand. He was pleasant, she was beginning to feel, and his agreeable chattering more than made up for his rather strange frame and his pronounced pot-belly.
As the dance progressed, exceedingly well, given the noticeable lack of skill on the parts of both dancers, Charlotte’s mind wandered very slightly, and she had to shake herself back into the present day as she suddenly found herself walking side by side with a future (and even rounder, although not unpleasantly) pot-belly.
Before both Reverend Halfton and Miss Charlotte Fantail knew it, or indeed desired it, the dance was over.
Both gentleman and ladypigeon looked at each other a little longer than merely neutral feelings might require, and took their leave.
What a lovely long neck, thought Charlotte, wistfully, watching the said long neck depart.
Reverend Halfton likes you more!
Reverend Halfton likes pigeons slightly more!
So saying, Lady Montagu began savagely beating the hapless peasant with a piece of salmon in as ladylike a fashion as possible.
"Oh, no apologies are necessary," Lady Katherine Montagu said apologetically, rising to her pigeonfeet as elegantly as she could manage, which was really quite elegantly, she felt.
"The fault lies entirely with the graceless Mr. Arbury, I am sure, and my own tumble was due to the clumsy interference of this wretched peasant!"...Nimbly twisting her head round and picking one of the awful pieces of canapé off her soiled wing, Lady Katherine whipped the salmon morsel into the air above the foul and above all
poor peasant, and proceeded to beat him savagely and lengthily about the legs and, as he collapsed to the ground, about the head and face until the repulsive slice of fish was torn to shreds and spread all over the equally repulsive and now terribly fishy imbecile.
"Oh, I'm exceedingly sorry," breathed Lady Katherine, turning to Mr Pinkerton-Smythe, and noticing that he was looking on with rapt admiration,
"I... sometimes..."”Oh, Lady Katherine! I... The...”Several of his splendid blonde hairs quivered with the emotion of the moment, and unnoticed by anyone the fish-spattered commoner crawled off to hide under a nearby table.
Mr Pinkerton-Smythe likes you more!
Mr Arbury likes you slightly more!
Mr Arcy likes you slightly more!
Miss Arcy likes you more!
Miss Feckerby likes you more!
Miss Villar likes you slightly more!
Everyone likes pigeons slightly more!Reconcile self and dancing partner!
What have I done? despaired Miss Thain, as Mr Arbury strode away,
Did my several seconds' gaze break what is conventional for a well-bred human lady? Her tiny elegant feet pattered after the human gentleman, who, she wasn't to know, was as disgusted with himself as with her, but as she caught up with his back she realised she did not entirely know what to do next.
She considered tapping Mr Arbury on the shoulder with her wing-tip; but that would be unforgivable if the pair were married, and probably criminal given that they were, alas, not. She searched for the right words to say.
Mr Arbury... I say...She barely even realised that she was not speaking audibly, but then Lady Katherine Montagu came unbidden to her rescue.
A moderate scene was breaking out on the other side of the ballroom: the wonderful Lady Montagu was, to the general admiration of all assembled, viciously beating a commoner with a small piece of fish. At least two men nodded lightly; one lady's cheek was seen to redden almost imperceptibly with enthusiastic approval. As the wave of unbridled emotion swept across the room, it washed over Mr Arbury like a tsunami over a pebble, and he turned to seek the source of such unlikely and wanton self-expression.
He turned, and before seeing the conclusion of Lady Montagu's beautifully well-judged affirmation of the rightful place of the wealthy he caught Miss Thain's unhappy eye.
He looked at her, and under the near-perfect blank veneer of an educated English gentleman she thought she detected something like acceptance, perhaps forgiveness, perhaps an apology.
...Yet he turned and left her alone, nonetheless.
There will be 2-4 more turns of Ball, depending how things go.