Read Online Cassandra's Sister by Veronica Bennett - Free Book Online Page A

who feels himself challenged. Why did conversations with young men never follow the scheme her imagination laid down for them? She should have accepted with good grace his apparent desire to attach himself to her. Now, he had been left with no alternative but to indulge in awkward gallantry.
    â€œYou must not think my words presumptuous,” she began. “I only meant—”
    â€œYou meant to be polite,” he interrupted. His eyes glittered with something that might have been amusement, or anticipation, or some masculine emotion which Jenny was unqualified to detect. “Until the next dance, then?”
    He bowed, and was gone so quickly that Jenny had not time to complete her curtsey. She stood alone for a moment, swallowing her agitation. Then she set off to find the two voices of reason.
    Cassandra listened, frowning a small frown. “A Mr Heathcote? From Winchester? Oh, from Hursley Park.” Her frown cleared. “I have an idea his father is a baronet. They are very wealthy, Henry says, and Henry always knows how much money people have.”
    â€œAnd this Mr Heathcote has engaged you for
two
dances?” said Martha.
    â€œAnd
I
received an offer for only one,” said Cassandra, pretending envy.
    â€œIs that the gentleman in question?” Martha closed her fan and used it to indicate, as discreetly as possible, William Heathcote being curtseyed to by Mary and Alethea.
    â€œYes,” confirmed Jenny. “How do you like his looks?”
    â€œHe is extremely handsome,” replied Martha “Let us hope his dancing is as well executed as his features, for your toes’ sake, Jenny.”
    The lines were forming for the dance. Jenny found herself sought out and handed to the set without delay. Mr Heathcote’s expression was inscrutable, but as they turned to take their place he remarked, “Madam Lefroy is dancing with her son. Do you not think they look well together? How charming a ball like this is, when friends and relatives can mingle without formality.”
    Jenny could not immediately reply. The opening bars of the music sounded and she and Mr Heathcote took their first steps. When they had completed the measure she asked him if he often went to balls.
    â€œNot often, perhaps,” he replied, pleasantly but without smiling. “But during the London season I do attend some public balls in town, and am occasionally invited to a private one. I must observe that you would not see the range of age and rank evident here at a London ball.”
    Jenny shrank from making further comment. They danced in silence for some minutes. Unease crept over her. When they had first been introduced she had taken him for a country-dwelling, country-loving man with a background and interests not unlike her own. But now she saw that he was worldlier than that. Like Eliza, he had a house in London and enjoyed the far greater choice of society he could find there.
    They had reached the end of the set, and faced each other. “Are you by any chance acquainted with the Comtesse de Feuillide?” she asked.
    â€œI have had the honour of being introduced to her. I believe she is your first cousin?”
    â€œThat is correct,” said Jenny, taking his hand for the cross-over.
    â€œAre
you
often in town, Miss Austen?” he asked.
    â€œNever,” replied Jenny. “London life does not beckon me.”
    He did not speak. They began the next measure. Jenny’s heart was oppressed. She felt herself exposed by her partner’s superiority of years, and greater social experience. She must seem to him a simpering youngster, with no claim other than the chance one of blood on Eliza de Feuillide’s glittering circle.
    The music slowed; they took their positions for the final reverence. “It is a great pity you do not go often to London,” he said as he led her back to where Mrs Bigg and Cassandra sat. “It would be a great pleasure to meet you at