Hey there, beautiful-people-who-are-responsible-for-putting-me-on-top-of-the-world! Here's the next installment of the much awaited night of the ball; and as a special bonus, we get to see into Andrew's mind for the first time! Does he looove our Rachel or not? Let's find out...

CHAPTER 24

“Should I open the conversation, or should I wait for her to start?” Andrew wondered as they walked back sedately on the softly-lighted path leading back to the gardens, appearing for the entire world as just one more couple taking a break from the stifling ballroom. Rachel was either in the same dilemma or she didn’t have anything to say, since she was as resolutely silent as him. Just when the situation seemed about to become unbearable, they both started speaking at the same time.

“Miss Warren, I can’t tell you how…”

“I am extremely glad Colonel, to…”

They stared at each other with mortification for a moment before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

“Oh dear, it was not this awkward even that night we spent in Marsham-in-the-Vale, was it?” Rachel grinned, before sobering down hurriedly. Perhaps he did not want to be reminded of those times?

Andrew, who had been intensely studying her body language since the first moment of their fortuitous meeting, also stiffened slightly. It seemed like those memories were not very pleasant ones for Rachel, if she was so quick in stifling down every smile which arose in relation with them. Obviously – she had been dragged into the affair and had never been used to the rigors she was forced to endure during those times; it was no wonder if she wanted to forget that experience as a bad memory and get on with her life. But still, he had been foolishly hoping that the time they had shared had been as precious for her as it was for him…

Rachel, unaware of the wrong signals she had just given the man at her side, started talking again. “What I wanted to say earlier sir was that I am extremely glad that you came back in sound body and mind from overseas. I…believe many had been worried for your safety the while.” She blushed in memory of all the night-time prayers she had uttered in his name the past six months, and also hoped that he would not notice the slip she had almost made while talking about her individual worry for his safety.

Why has it suddenly become so difficult to talk with him? I have known my feelings for him since ages and yet managed to hold a decent conversation with him most of the time. Had I not decided to make the most of tonight’s meeting with him? Then why am I wasting my time in feeling, horror of horrors, shy at this point?

Andrew was undergoing a similar turmoil, though outwardly he appeared serene. He had indeed caught on to her slip of tongue – he would be a poor veteran of the interrogation room if he were not adept at such a basic thing – but the high stakes for his personal happiness made him question his interpretation. Does she mean to imply that she had been worried for my sake in my absence? Dare I continue to hope? Drat, he chastised himself with sudden realization; I am standing here mute like an ungracious fool even after she has opened the conversation.

What do I say? Should I start with the matter closest to my heart? No, I suppose that would scare her away even if she, please the Lord, reciprocates my feelings. So keep it light for the moment, Andrew Reginald, keep it light.

He took a surreptitious deep breath and smiled cheerfully at her, “With so many people intercepting on my behalf with the Almighty, how can I be anything but safe? When we have time,” he changed his voice to a deep-throated and deliberately mysterious tone, “I will tell you tales of the Orient which will fire your imagination and curdle your blood, make your mind soar to the bazaars scented with sandal and turmeric and shy away in horror from the mysterious cults being practiced there. I will bring alive for you the shining arc of a deadly scimitar and the delicate beauty of a young girl’s henna-painted feet; yes Ma’am, I will bring the Orient alive for you.”

Dropping into his normal tone, he grinned at the hysterically giggling girl at his side. “If you want I can also talk about the dust and the heat, the idiotic bovines lumbering on the streets, the milky tea we had to drink and the utter boredom between battles – though they are much less interesting to hear about.”

Thank God, her mood has changed. I hope all will be normal from now on.

“I believe I would like to hear about everything at leisure, Colonel,” she smiled up at him while thinking, I do not know if we will ever have the time for that talk, but it feels nice that he wants to share that experience with me.

Andrew started to articulate what he had wanted to say at the outset of their conversation. The time for prevarication was over, and he had nothing preventing him from making his intentions clear any more. But he still needed to ease into the topic gently instead of springing it to Rachel like his heart urged him to do.

Keeping his eyes on the distant house rather than on his lovely companion (I am not that strong), he said, “All through the month of October I had been troubled by thoughts of you. I can’t express properly how thankful I am to find that you did not have to face any further persecution in Headley Down, or on your return to Carillon Hall. The entire time I was hiding in Denbries I had been haunted with all sorts of ideas about how the plan could go wrong and how I should not have left you without any real protection; and when I had to leave abruptly for duty without exchanging a single word with you, my fear for your continued employment was great. It will always be one of my greatest regrets that I had to take advantage of your goodness, and one of my greatest blessings that God selected someone as excellent as you for this task. Miss Warren, I must tell you…”

“Oh there you are, lovely Miss Warren – have you forgotten that our second dance is coming up? I must inform you that I have no intention of losing it; after all it is the last we will be sharing, thanks to your hardheartedness.” A cheerful voice assailed them from ahead.

Drat, drat, a thousand times drat.

Did he have to come now? How could I have ever considered him to be a friend? He is a destroyer of enchanted moments, the hateful man.

Oblivious to all the dislike he was creating in the bosoms of the interrupted couple in front of him, Lord Harbury casually sauntered up before coming to a halt directly in front of them. His eyes narrowed a little at the sight of Rachel’s hand resting on Colonel Fairfax’s arm.

“So you did gather an escort on your visit to the gardens, Miss Warren,” he drawled. “I hope it was not a personal dislike of me that made you refuse my company?”

“Oh no, Lord Harbury,” Rachel felt flustered and totally out of her depth in the swirl of emotions she was undergoing. What was she supposed to do, exactly? Ah yes, not let His Lordship feel slighted – it was not his fault that all this was happening. “Colonel Fairfax is a very good friend, and had just arrived from duty overseas. We…we met while he was coming to the house and fell into conversation about the old times.” She trailed away ineffectually with a blush, to her chagrin. Now it just seemed like she and Andrew had arranged for a clandestine meet, thanks to her dumb tendency to let the blood rush to her head at inopportune moments.

The two men were eyeing each other warily, sizing the other one up in a move as old as rivalry itself. Lord Harbury extended a hand to the Colonel, forcing him in the process to relinquish the fair fingers still resting on the crook of his arm. "So we meet again, Lieutenant Fairfax,” he said smoothly. I had no inkling that you were expected at this gathering, and so late at that; but then, nothing comes before the call of duty, right? How’s the soldiering?”

“It is Colonel Fairfax now, as Miss Warren informed you a moment ago,” Andrew informed him with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. He could see clearly what this man was doing – denigrating his position in the eyes of Rachel by bringing up his profession and lack of private life in an innocent speech. Well, he must not let this insolent man’s attempts at fazing him work, that was all. “And yes, I just got here though I had been relieved of active work a couple of days back. I had some personal work that kept me back, but I came as soon as possible.”

“Ah yes, that seems...evident.” Harbury’s eyes roved insolently over Andrew’s travel-stained raiment making the latter clench his teeth in irritation. “Be that as it may,” he turned towards Rachel without sparing another thought to the dusty man standing by her, “like I had mentioned at the outset Miss Warren, I believe this is our dance so,” he extended his arm in a courtly motion, “Shall we?”

Rachel had no option but to move away from Andrew and his tantalizing words. The mood seemed to be lost for the moment by Lord Harbury’s entrance, anyhow. But while she was being led away, she was refrained by a call from behind.

“Miss Warren!” Andrew cried, with a hand involuntarily outstretched towards her. This was not how things were supposed to happen. No, no, it can’t end like this…dash it, they are turning back. What can I say to make her stop? I can’t – the rules of etiquette say that she must honor each dance promised to a gentleman. Dance…of course, that’s it – a dance!

“Miss Warren, can you honor me with a dance sometime later tonight?” he flashed his dimples at her as if it were an commonplace request, hiding the trepidation in his heart. Please say yes, please say yes…

“I don’t believe we have time to talk about this now, we need to get going,” Harbury pulled her away without giving her a chance to respond. But Rachel was no meek chit to be manipulated so easily. Who did he think he was, deciding whom she would dance with or not? She turned back even while she was being towed away and gave Andrew a dazzling smile. “My last dance has not been promised to anyone as of yet.”

He bowed to the retreating figure even as she got further away from him. “Then the last dance it is, my lady,” he called, before making his way to the guest chambers of the house. He had a mission now. He needed to look his best tonight.

                                                             Xxxxx

Lord Harbury was evidently angry, as could be evidenced by his behaviour on their way back to the room filled with couples already aligned for the next dance. Is this silly antagonism over me? Rachel wondered even as she took her place and bowed to him. Surely not. There must be some long enmity between them, as could be seen in the way Harbury addressed Andrew as Lieutenant rather than by his designated rank; it implied that they had known each other at a time when they were younger. But she could not call him out on his behavior since it was just veiled enough to escape censure. It seemed to be one mystery which may never be unraveled for her. She must indulge in desultory conversation and pass the time in a normal way until Andrew could come and claim her.

Adrian Harbury was, on his part, not angry as much as seething. The Fairfax men had not been content with separating him from his beloved Clara; oh no, the one time he finally made an effort to get to know another woman in years with an intention to set up his house, the younger Fairfax must butt in and steal her away as well. What was wrong with him and the Fairfax clan? First one brother separates him from the one love of his life, and then the other takes away a woman who might have done admirably in Clara Fairfax’s place. 

What was Clara doing now? he wondered. She could not have gotten married yet; there had been no announcement in the papers. Was she still at that great prison of a house, Silvermead Hall, laboring under the misconception that he had abandoned her four years back? Had her adored brother Stephen ever confessed his role in separating them because of her youth, of all the flimsy reasons? She had been seventeen, after all…hang it, several women settle down into matrimony at that age! Has she changed in looks over time or was she still as alluring as ever?

When you are immersed in thoughts of one woman, it is rather difficult to devote yourself to another, even when she has captivating eyes and is dancing in your arms. Add the fact that your partner seems to be distracted as well, and you have got a recipe for a most forgettable dance indeed.

They both released each other with a masked sigh of relief, though while taking Rachel to her next partner lord Harbury bent down and whispered seductively in her ear, “I look forward to continuing the pleasure of knowing you sometime in the near future Miss Warren. You can always count on me to be a staunch friend. Your glittering presence made this ball a memorable event for me.”

Rachel halted in her steps for a second and frowned at his withdrawing form. It was a blameless remark to make. Why was he making it appear like it was something extremely momentous and almost scandalous? Looking around her on a hunch, she found her worst suspicions to be right; Andrew was standing in a corner glowering in their direction, though on catching her eye he attempted a half-hearted wave and went away somewhere out of sight. Had he been standing there for a long time, watching them dance? But that had been irreproachable in the extreme, bordering on the dreary at times. Or…did he come in time to only catch that silly whispered farewell? And deduce all kinds of wrong conclusions from it?

Rachel huffed to herself in anger and disappointment. That is all I need…our last night together to be marred by ridiculous male posturing. Before she could search some more for Andrew in order to ease the tension between them, she was found by her next partner and had to graciously succumb to the temptations of a cotillion.

                                                             Xxxxx

Andrew glared sullenly at the ballroom from his hidden corner on the balcony. Rachel appeared to be in great demand tonight indeed. Why had Mira invited all these fops to her ball in the first place? They only lessened the tone of the gathering, polluting it with their rambunctious laughter and imbecilic comments, not to mention sweeping every pretty girl in sight into endless dances. He could not remember a minuet or a quadrille taking so long to end. Thank goodness there were no waltzes happening tonight; though it would have been perfect if the last dance could have been one.

When will the last dance start?

It was in this gloomy condition that his cousin found him. Miranda glided up to him and gave him a most unladylike poke in the ribs that successfully returned his full consciousness to the surroundings. After emitting a startled yelp that he would have done anything to recall, Andrew switched his glare to the impish beauty grinning unrepentantly at him.

“And what was that in favour of, coz? Is this the way to treat someone you are seeing after all these months?”

“Oh, but I have been seeing you everyday for the past week,” she caroled gaily. At his nonplussed expression, she added in a syrupy voice, “That was why you did not come directly to meet me after arriving, wasn’t it?”

“‘A hit, a very palpable hit!’1 Sorry, sorry Mira,” Andrew raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as she advanced menacingly upon him. I promise not to quote Hamlet at you again when you are in a bad mood. I am truly repentant of my omission in meeting you, however.” He took her satin-covered fingers and bestowed a chivalrous kiss on them, before chucking her under the chin tenderly. “How have you been, my dear?”

The most obvious answer would be – anxious for the past four months about a particular person’s safety and angry for the last fifteen minutes since I was made aware of his presence in my house by his valet. Can you imagine the ignominy?” she squared her shoulders and tapped a dainty foot, watching him squirm. She was not really all that angry, but the occasion to catch Colonel Fairfax on the wrong foot occurred so rarely that she could not help making the most of it. After a few minutes of this entertainment, she relented and graced him with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Fine, that is enough for tonight. Now you will have to undergo the punishment of dancing with me, Rachel, Gertrude, Angela, Sophia, Nancy – in short all my friends – till the ball lasts! I can only describe my divine Richmond Acres properly over the course of a long dance. Besides, I can’t wait to see the expression on Nancy’s face when she realizes that you are here; the poor girl almost swooned the last time you danced with her!”

“Err, Mira,” Andrew gave her a sheepish grin as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I am fine with dancing, but I have already promised the last dance…to Miss Warren, actually. So keep that in mind while planning my schedule for tonight, will you?”

Miranda pulled back and observed him with her head to one side, subjecting the self-conscious Colonel to a disconcerting perusal for what felt like endless hours before pulling her lips back into a sly smirk.

“So that’s the way the wind blows? I can’t believe I have been so blind all this while. Well dear cousin mine, you may have my blessing, but this will not stop me from getting the next dance with you, you know. So let’s march out into the world once again and forego our scowls for now!”

                                                             Xxxxx

Rachel got to see Andrew again in a few minutes, but with Miranda as his partner. She was followed by others in rapid succession. Like herself, he was always dancing with some partner or the other now; and though Rachel knew logically that she had no right to be jealous of someone dancing at a ball, she could not remove the barbs which stuck in her soul every time a girl fluttered her eyelashes in his direction or twirled closer to him than the dance required. He was certainly an excellent matrimonial catch with his good looks, social connections and solid income, and apparently others were also aware of the fact. 

All those fairy tales about poor Cinderellas finding their Prince Charmings and living happily ever after, she though cynically as she bowed to her latest partner, should never have been told. They let girls like me commit the heinous crime of dreaming about what could never be.

But love has always been resilient to reason, as she knew from experience. Despite their self-doubts and bouts of despondency, Rachel and Andrew could not stop themselves from exchanging smiles whenever the steps of the dance brought them into temporary proximity before separating to attend to their partners. Each was looking forward to their single dance with a vehemence that would have removed every trepidation from the other’s heart – if they had but known it.

And finally, the last dance was announced.

                                                             Xxxxx

Andrew strode towards Rachel as she stood demurely near Miranda and her friends as they were eagerly discussing their dance partners and exchanging gossip in general. The time he had been awaiting so eagerly was finally at hand.

“I believe this is our dance, Miss Warren,” he bowed gallantly before her, inadvertently causing a couple of girls in the group to burst out into incontrollable giggles. What did I do wrong? he thought distractedly before shrugging it off as inconsequential. So long as Rachel did not laugh in his face, he really did not care about what some faceless female thought of him.

Rachel, on her part, knew exactly why the girls were acting thusly. Just before Andrew made his entrance, he had been the subject of a good deal of sighing and speculation among their group. Apparently his upright carriage, fair features and honest yet chivalrous attitude made him a great favorite with the ladies and most of them had been vying among themselves all night to attach his affections. When he himself came to claim one of their number with such aplomb, apparently it became more than poor Marie and Nancy could stand.

She herself could barely keep her giddiness down as Andrew took her hand and led her to the dance space. Suddenly it seemed as if the entire evening was washed out of her memory and she was waiting for the first dance of her life. It was only a quadrille and thus not entirely private; but then, perhaps it was better that way. She was nervous enough as it were to be dancing with the man she was in love with.

 The other couples with them took their positions and they all smiled at each other as the music began. The next moment she was twirling under Andrew’s leading.

You must converse about something Madam Star-struck, her inner voice reminded her helpfully after a few minutes. However comfortable it might be to simply be in his company, some general conversation was in order; especially since they were currently standing on the side while anther couple danced in the central formation. So Rachel plunged in with the first thing which entered her head.

“You had been pretty late in coming to the ball, Colonel. Was it some urgent work that you attended to immediately on touching English soil?” She blushed the moment the words were out of her mouth. Speaking did not mean blabbing like a fool. Why, he must think that she was snooping into his affairs! Therefore she quickly amended her words, “I hope that you won’t consider it to be prying, but I did wonder if it was connected to Miss de Manley’s…Brighton trip in some way.”

“It is no big secret, Miss Warren,” he assured her immediately. He himself had become tongue-tied like a greenhorn from the start of the dance, and he welcomed the opportunity to talk about something, anything. “I had been to see my family. The last time I had been with my parents and siblings had been the day we received Mira’s letter, and though I had written to them occasionally from Denbries and later from India, they had been extremely worried about our safety the entire time. I thought that I owed it to them to visit Silvermead Hall in person as soon as possible so as to set all their qualms at rest. I had full intentions of attending Mira’s party, though; and that was why I rode for seven hours straight from the corners of Hertfordshire to London.”

“Oh,” Rachel suddenly did not have anything to say. How could she have forgotten his attachment to his cousin? That was why he came here so hurriedly of course. “Your parents must have been very happy to see you,” she said softly at last. “How is your new nephew? Or is it a niece?”

“It is a squalling and boisterous nephew, named Anthony Stephen Fairfax after my father and his own,” Andrew grinned down at her. “He has a pair of strong lungs on him, I can tell you – my father already claims that the heir shows signs of becoming a general in the Army in the near future, and carry on the heritage. We are a family of fighters on the whole and while my father retired as a Brigadier in his time, both I and Stephen have seen active service as well. My sister Cecily also cherishes dreams of serving her country and trained as a hospital nurse in expectation of a major war looming ahead with France. We are all hoping that her present engagement with a local man will let her forego her dreams and settle down finally to a domestic life. Little Tony will fit right in with us all.”

Rachel laughed as they performed a complex step and his palm slid across hers. She always loved the ease with which Andrew could communicate with her about every kind of topic. They continued to talk on about both of their families, and she disclosed to him her twin brothers’ ambition of joining the Navy once they attained the hoary age of thirteen years. She even told him about the small and big happenings at Carillon Hall in a guarded manner. They flowed together seamlessly as they danced, laughed and talked about everything and nothing.

The dance was almost over when Andrew made an unprecedented move. His mood had intensified as the dance proceeded, and suddenly taking Rachel’s hand, he pulled her a little so that they were almost out of the dance while still following the steps. The next moment he had inched a bit closer to her than required and bent down, his breath almost brushing a stray chocolate ringlet caressing her bare shoulder.

“Actually, I had an ulterior motive in going home as well,” he whispered in her ear, sending an involuntary shiver coursing down her spine. “The events of that month of hiding made me realize what I had been trying to avoid for a long time, and my time abroad only made me more fixed upon my decision. I went home to tell my people that I have finally decided to settle down into matrimony.

“I am in love Miss Warren, and I rushed here because I could not stay away from the woman I love an instant more than required. I still need her assent, though. After all, she is a queen among women and is coveted by every man having an iota of sense. Do you think she’ll agree to marry me?”

What was she supposed to say? Do not do this to me? Can’t you see that my heart is breaking? How can you marry Miranda when I love you so much? Of course Rachel did not utter any of these things.

“She will never refuse you, Colonel,” she smiled in a strained manner as the dance came to an end. That was one relief, at least. The set was not over yet, but that couldn’t be helped. She curtsied deeply to hide her face. “You are making the right decision. Please let me know when everything becomes official between you and Miss de Manley so that I can wish her happy as well.

“Now if you would excuse me, I feel a migraine coming on. Pardon me for leaving you so soon, but…I can’t take any more. And sir, thank you for the dance. I wish you a good night. Fare…farewell.”

She turned around and all but fled, in the process missing the look of utter bewilderment that had crossed Andrew’s features on hearing her words. So shocked was he indeed, that he did not even think of stopping her from escaping until it was too late and she had melted into the crowds.

--xx--xx--

1-Hamlet, Act V sc. Ii

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AN: Didn't expect that, now did ya? :) But don't you worry, the night isn't over yet!