Letter Games: Eileen, keyword "formal dance"
Name: The Winter Ball
Community Event: Christmas 2010
Prompt: 08: Formal Dance
Word Count: 3052
Summary: Normally, outsiders weren’t allowed to set foot inside Henton College, save for the prestigious exit ceremony, wherein the scholars of the college received their merits and diplomas. The college was a modern marvel of science and secrecy, enclosing its lads (and sometimes, though rarely, the ladies of its sister school) from the time they entered until the day they left in all sorts of mystery. It wasn’t right for somebody with no association to the college to attend its yearly winter ball, it wasn’t proper.
But what else are social norms for, if not for breaking? Eileen wondered to herself as the carriage rolled steadily onwards.
Notes: A steampunk-themed letter game that frozen-yogurts and I were playing for a while. Whew!
Dear Edwin-
Oh, I do wish that letters could carry the appropriate amount of anger, or that it wasn’t so drattedly easy for you to skip over my introductory paragraph! Let me begin this letter by telling you firmly that I am most aggrieved with you right now, and if you think a simple appeal to goodness will help to calm my rage, you are most certainly in the wrong!
I shall explain it to you step-by-step, as it were, as Mr Stuart is always telling me to do. I don’t see why one needs to start from the beginning and work one’s way through, particularly when both parties already know all of the expository information, but it is a skill I must force myself to practice.
You’ll know, of course, that Henton College had its yearly wintertime ball yesterday (as I pen this letter; doubtlessly when you read this it shall be at least a week past). I had known of it before this year, seeing as how Mama has attended it every year since I can remember, but never before had I been permitted to accompany her. I begged her one year to allow me to go with her-particularly as she was in one of her moods that I should not be permitted a season in the Town, and when otherwise would I get a chance to experience such a grand party?-but she told me that no outsiders had ever been allowed inside the college, save for its prestigious exit ceremony. I, quite peevishly, asked her why she was then allowed inside its walls, as I am sure Mama was never a lad walking its halls, and she told me that the ladies of its sister school, Fencott, were always present and permitted to continue attending after they had graduated as well. I later spoke to Mr Stuart, who further told me that the ball is often an opportunity for all those of the tinkerer’s trade to mingle with one another and discuss any riddles that might be still eluding them, without having to wait for the summer solstice.
So you can imagine my surprise when Mr Stuart asked me if I might like to attend the ball as his guest!
Really, I ought to be used to these sorts of things out of Mr Stuart, but I confess that every time he does something odd I still find myself perplexed. In this case, it was a most peculiar question, knowing what I do about the college. And as Mr Stuart values directness, I told him so. “Mr Stuart, I would be delighted, of course. But Mama has told me that I would never be permitted within the college walls, as I am neither a young man studying at Henton nor a young lady studying at Fencott.”
“But you are my assistant, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Then you may walk within Henton’s walls. You are a part of our trade now, Eileen.”
I still haven’t quite gotten used to the idea that Mr Stuart calls me by my given name. That is an action best left to family and close friends, I feel.
Mama had no qualms about my attending the wintertime ball-in fact, I sometimes think Mama enjoys breaking societal rules just as much as I-and so when she and Mr Stuart left for Henton, I found myself sitting inside the carriage as well. I shan’t bore you with the details of travel (indeed, I am sure you recall your own journey from North Cantowne), but will instead skip to what happened when we reached the small town outlying Henton’s grounds. Mama and Mr Stuart had spent much of our journey discussing the possibilities and schematics of a new transmorgifier ray scribbling away at parchment with sticks of charcoal, using small alchemic globes for light. I had none of these on my person, so was forced to content myself by moving the curtains from the carriage windows every so often to watch the college in the distance steadily growing nearer.
We stopped to secure our lodgings for the night, and also so that we might change for the ball. I found myself standing in the room I was to share with Mama, who was looking at me with a bright smile on her face. “Excited?” she asked me. I fought to keep from simultaneously scowling and laughing; did she even need to ask?
I answered her, “Hardly!” But that was all I could say before I found myself smiling as well. “Oh, Mama, you’ve no idea! I know that it will be all sorts of dull for you, since you’ve seen it all so many times, but I’ve never been to the college before-and Edwin shall be there, too! Think of how surprised he’ll be!”
I find it very odd to think of now, but at the mention of your name, Mama’s expression changed. She turned to the mirror so that I couldn’t see her, untying the cord she uses for her hair and beginning to unpin it. “Yes, he will be, won’t he? But Eileen, I want you to promise me something.”
I had moved to my trunk to withdraw my gown, but I looked back to her then. “What is it?”
“I want you to promise me you’re not going to sneak away during the ball.” Mama turned back to me then, and I daresay her expression was halfway there to pleading. “I know that you’re very excited to see Edwin again, but the college… has a way of changing people. Don’t beg him to slip away with you so that he may show you the school itself-stay in the ballroom, where it is light.”
As you might imagine, I was most flummoxed by her request. It was almost as though Mama had read my very mind, for I had been quite set on enlisting your help to do precisely what she had described. “Mama, I don’t-”
“I know you don’t,” Mama interrupted me, coming forward to touch my shoulder and smooth my hair. “Just trust me, all right? There is much about Henton that stays best within its own shadows.”
I gave in to Mama’s request and promised not to slip away, but at the same time I cannot help but wonder what she meant by her words. Edwin, I must ask-is there very much you haven’t been telling me?
I suppose that must be a difficult question to answer, seeing as if you haven’t spoken of it already it is unlikely you would be willing to now. So instead of doting on such things, I shall continue on to what happened next. We arrived to the ball later than anticipated (of course, knowing Mama as you do, this cannot be very surprising. She had an idea for the transmorgifier ray and simply had to rush and write it down and spilled ink all over her best gloves…), but there seemed to still be a sizeable amount of people making their way through the receiving line. I was led in by Mr Stuart, and Mama walked in alone, looking quite different than she normally does at home, much more the elegant lady here. “Ah, Mrs Havighurst,” said one of the men in the line, stepping forward to take Mama’s gloved hand and bow over it. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
Mama smiled back at him with a nod. “Mr Heggs. As always, I remain pleasantly surprised that you can dredge my name from the tomes of information you’ve inhaled over the years.”
He laughed, then glanced over to Mr Stuart, not even taking notice of me. “And Thomas Stuart, you as well? I’m glad to see that Henton is worthy of your attention this year! And-oh-” He had noticed me, now; his eyes widened slightly behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “And who is this? Surely not one of the young ladies from Fencott? I was told they’d already arrived.”
Mama stepped back to me, resting a hand on my shoulder and smiling at Heggs. “Mr Heggs, please allow me to present my daughter, Eileen Havighurst. Eileen, I should like you to meet Mr George Heggs.”
It was slight, but his face seemed to fall slightly at my introduction, eyes darting from side to side as though he searched for something. “Well,” he said, “this is quite the oddity indeed. I find you always bring us the greatest conundrums, Mrs Havighurst. For surely you must have known that no outsider should set foot within these halls tonight?”
“Ah.” Mr Stuart spoke up beside me, raising one finger and making that peculiar chest-throat noise he does. “If I may, Heggs. It’s worth noting, should you lot ever care to check your responses to invitations, that it was I who asked Miss Havighurst to accompany me tonight.”
Heggs rounded on Mr Stuart with the admission, and I had to hide my smile. He seemed to be much more at ease, now that the blame could be placed on Mr Stuart-I wonder how often the council has seen fit to quibble with Mr Stuart in the past? “I should think, Thomas, that you ought to know the rules of Henton better than most.”
“Of course. However, Miss Havighurst is my assistant, as I should hope you know, Mr Heggs, considering you and the rest of the council were the ones to direct me to her in the first place,” responded Mr Stuart blandly. “Which gives her full rights to be here, if I recall correctly.”
I have come to quite enjoy whenever Mr Stuart uses that bland voice. Before I had always thought it dreadfully flat, but I’ve come to realize he uses it in only the most appropriate of moments, oftentimes saying things to make even the most poised man cut short and consider! It was no exception here-Heggs looked as though he’d been put on the tenterhooks once again. “A-ha,” he said, glancing between Mr Stuart and me. “Well, I suppose… you must forgive me, Miss Havighurst, it appears your name had entirely slipped my mind until Mr Stuart reminded me.”
All four of us knew it was a lie, but I deigned not to say anything about it, ready to be through the receiving line. I gave him a courteous nod, saying, “You needn’t apologize, Mr Heggs. From what I have been told, Henton seems a most remarkable place. I shouldn’t wonder that its secrets should be so carefully protected.”
I admit that I do not always speak the most prudent of responses, but I could not hold back my smile as Mr Stuart and I moved past Heggs and into the ballroom proper. After I had spoken, Heggs’ eyes had actually narrowed-and he, supposed to be such a prim and proper man!
There was, as always, the fuss of dance cards to be dealt with after that, but finally I was able to make my way through the crowd, attempting to avoid notice as I searched for you. After all, it is considered improper for a young lady to find herself unattended in such a place. As I walked the hall, doing my utmost to take in both the breathtaking sights of the ballroom while at the same time looking everywhere to find you, I found myself growing slightly vexed. You’ll forgive me for saying so, but my faith in your presence was somewhat lacking, Edwin. I found it all too possible that you might have attempted to talk your way out of attending in order to keep tinkering with some project of yours. I could only hope that your tutors had had the good sense to banish you to the ball. I silently vowed to myself that, if I could not find you, I would later compose this very letter before Mr Stuart, Mama, and I left to return to North Cantowne. I shall post this at the nearest station, and laugh when you realize you have missed our one chance at speaking in person, at least for any measurable length of time. Who knows if I shall be permitted to attend again in the coming year? This may have been our only opportunity.
All in all, I was completely taken by surprise when a voice interrupted my mental tirade. “Pardon me. I wonder, would you do me the honor of dancing the galop with me?”
I frowned, looking down at my dance card, which I’d pinned to my sleeve cuff. I hadn’t filled any dance aside from those Mr Stuart had been required to take, and etiquette again dictated that I should not refuse the man’s offer. “It would be my pleasure,” I said, unpinning the card from my wrist. “To whom do I owe this dance?”
The man who had spoken to me smiled, stepping back to give the appropriate bow. I think that he must have been one of the lads you study with, for he looked to be quite close to our age. Do you know of him, Edwin? He introduced himself as, “William Allston. I believe I heard Mr Heggs speaking to you earlier, Miss…?”
“Havighurst,” I supplied.
“Havighurst,” Allston mused, withdrawing a small pencil from his jacket’s inner pocket. “Is there no given name to accompany it?”
I couldn’t help but to smile at that, handing him the dance card so that he could fill in his name for the appropriate dance. “None as of yet. If your dancing is as elegant as your words, perhaps you may learn it then.”
“Very well,” he agreed, nodding to me once more. “I shall find you at the appropriate time then, Miss Havighurst.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
By the time the dancing was to begin, I still hadn’t found you (as I’m certain I needn’t tell you), although I had found several more partners to fill out my dance card. The dancing was enjoyable, to be sure, but I found myself distracted for much of it, though I did my best to pay attention to each of my partners. Looking back, I suppose I ought to have paid more attention to what was going on, for while I do not think I slighted any of my dance partners, I also was not concentrating fully on my dance and so will likely be unable to remember much of the grand experience of my first true ball.
I know you will care little of the dancing you missed, so I shall save my thoughts on the night to share with Regina when I next see her (she is positively green with envy that I was permitted to attend). Instead, I move on to supper, which I am sure is the only thing you remain interested in by this point. Mr Stuart escorted me into the dining room, and I found myself sitting across from one of the young ladies from Fencott, a very prim and proper-looking girl who had been introduced to me as Miss Margaret Kinloch. For the first half of supper we chatted amiably (although of course we didn’t overshadow our dinner partners), and when the main course was about to be served she looked over to me. “Miss Havighurst, I appear to have trodden on my hem sometime throughout the evening and ripped it. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind helping me to mend it?”
I was quite surprised by her words, but I nodded regardless. “Of course, Miss Kinloch. If you will excuse me, Mr Stuart…”
“Not at all,” he said, standing to pull out my chair as I stood myself. On the other side of the table, Margaret’s partner did the same for her, and I found myself walking arm-in-arm with Miss Kinloch as the servants began to enter with the food.
Once we were out of the dining room, though, things took a turn, both metaphorically and literally. Margaret did not continue for the ladies’ powder room, but instead held my arm to hers at the elbow, pulling me towards another door. “What are we doing?” I hissed at her, certain that I was about to be led outside the ballroom, specifically where Mama had requested for me not to go.
“Oh, do be quiet, Miss Havighurst!” she whispered back to me. “If we hurry, we’ll be back before anyone notices our absence.”
I must shamefully admit that I did not question her. I ought to have, I know, but I could not resist the opportunity to see what lay outside the ballroom, and as it was likely Margaret knew the college from prior visits, I followed her.
We escaped the ballroom without notice, and quickly made our way down a series of mazelike hallways. I cannot begin to imagine how one makes it to classes without being constantly lost and late, Edwin, for I was quite turned around within minutes and could only follow after Margaret, who seemed to know precisely where she was going, murmuring something incomprehensible under her breath the entire time. Finally, we came to a rather nondescript-looking door, set into the end of a hallway, and she nodded to herself. “This one. If you would do the honors, Miss Havighurst?”
I reached forward and, with plenty of misgivings, I assure you, pulled open the door she’d intended.
I needn’t tell you of the disaster that happened next. You were, after all, already there within the metalworkings the door led us straight into.
With that, I think I have summed up all that happened before I came stumbling ungracefully into your midst, and now it is your turn to speak, Edwin. I shall post this in the morning (and hope Mama does not ask why I was penning so late into the night-whatever do I tell her?), and will be waiting as patiently as I can for your response. There is a great deal you have to explain to me (who was that man, and why was he speaking so fervently of a-what was it again?-a particle-ray something-or-other that just sounded most dreadful if it were ever put into use?), and I will not be satisfied by anything less than the truth.
Until then, I shall be doing my utmost to keep above any suspicion, and I do hope you are doing the same.
Yours,
Eileen
:|
Community Event: Christmas 2010
Prompt: 08: Formal Dance
Word Count: 3052
Summary: Normally, outsiders weren’t allowed to set foot inside Henton College, save for the prestigious exit ceremony, wherein the scholars of the college received their merits and diplomas. The college was a modern marvel of science and secrecy, enclosing its lads (and sometimes, though rarely, the ladies of its sister school) from the time they entered until the day they left in all sorts of mystery. It wasn’t right for somebody with no association to the college to attend its yearly winter ball, it wasn’t proper.
But what else are social norms for, if not for breaking? Eileen wondered to herself as the carriage rolled steadily onwards.
Notes: A steampunk-themed letter game that frozen-yogurts and I were playing for a while. Whew!
Dear Edwin-
Oh, I do wish that letters could carry the appropriate amount of anger, or that it wasn’t so drattedly easy for you to skip over my introductory paragraph! Let me begin this letter by telling you firmly that I am most aggrieved with you right now, and if you think a simple appeal to goodness will help to calm my rage, you are most certainly in the wrong!
I shall explain it to you step-by-step, as it were, as Mr Stuart is always telling me to do. I don’t see why one needs to start from the beginning and work one’s way through, particularly when both parties already know all of the expository information, but it is a skill I must force myself to practice.
You’ll know, of course, that Henton College had its yearly wintertime ball yesterday (as I pen this letter; doubtlessly when you read this it shall be at least a week past). I had known of it before this year, seeing as how Mama has attended it every year since I can remember, but never before had I been permitted to accompany her. I begged her one year to allow me to go with her-particularly as she was in one of her moods that I should not be permitted a season in the Town, and when otherwise would I get a chance to experience such a grand party?-but she told me that no outsiders had ever been allowed inside the college, save for its prestigious exit ceremony. I, quite peevishly, asked her why she was then allowed inside its walls, as I am sure Mama was never a lad walking its halls, and she told me that the ladies of its sister school, Fencott, were always present and permitted to continue attending after they had graduated as well. I later spoke to Mr Stuart, who further told me that the ball is often an opportunity for all those of the tinkerer’s trade to mingle with one another and discuss any riddles that might be still eluding them, without having to wait for the summer solstice.
So you can imagine my surprise when Mr Stuart asked me if I might like to attend the ball as his guest!
Really, I ought to be used to these sorts of things out of Mr Stuart, but I confess that every time he does something odd I still find myself perplexed. In this case, it was a most peculiar question, knowing what I do about the college. And as Mr Stuart values directness, I told him so. “Mr Stuart, I would be delighted, of course. But Mama has told me that I would never be permitted within the college walls, as I am neither a young man studying at Henton nor a young lady studying at Fencott.”
“But you are my assistant, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Then you may walk within Henton’s walls. You are a part of our trade now, Eileen.”
I still haven’t quite gotten used to the idea that Mr Stuart calls me by my given name. That is an action best left to family and close friends, I feel.
Mama had no qualms about my attending the wintertime ball-in fact, I sometimes think Mama enjoys breaking societal rules just as much as I-and so when she and Mr Stuart left for Henton, I found myself sitting inside the carriage as well. I shan’t bore you with the details of travel (indeed, I am sure you recall your own journey from North Cantowne), but will instead skip to what happened when we reached the small town outlying Henton’s grounds. Mama and Mr Stuart had spent much of our journey discussing the possibilities and schematics of a new transmorgifier ray scribbling away at parchment with sticks of charcoal, using small alchemic globes for light. I had none of these on my person, so was forced to content myself by moving the curtains from the carriage windows every so often to watch the college in the distance steadily growing nearer.
We stopped to secure our lodgings for the night, and also so that we might change for the ball. I found myself standing in the room I was to share with Mama, who was looking at me with a bright smile on her face. “Excited?” she asked me. I fought to keep from simultaneously scowling and laughing; did she even need to ask?
I answered her, “Hardly!” But that was all I could say before I found myself smiling as well. “Oh, Mama, you’ve no idea! I know that it will be all sorts of dull for you, since you’ve seen it all so many times, but I’ve never been to the college before-and Edwin shall be there, too! Think of how surprised he’ll be!”
I find it very odd to think of now, but at the mention of your name, Mama’s expression changed. She turned to the mirror so that I couldn’t see her, untying the cord she uses for her hair and beginning to unpin it. “Yes, he will be, won’t he? But Eileen, I want you to promise me something.”
I had moved to my trunk to withdraw my gown, but I looked back to her then. “What is it?”
“I want you to promise me you’re not going to sneak away during the ball.” Mama turned back to me then, and I daresay her expression was halfway there to pleading. “I know that you’re very excited to see Edwin again, but the college… has a way of changing people. Don’t beg him to slip away with you so that he may show you the school itself-stay in the ballroom, where it is light.”
As you might imagine, I was most flummoxed by her request. It was almost as though Mama had read my very mind, for I had been quite set on enlisting your help to do precisely what she had described. “Mama, I don’t-”
“I know you don’t,” Mama interrupted me, coming forward to touch my shoulder and smooth my hair. “Just trust me, all right? There is much about Henton that stays best within its own shadows.”
I gave in to Mama’s request and promised not to slip away, but at the same time I cannot help but wonder what she meant by her words. Edwin, I must ask-is there very much you haven’t been telling me?
I suppose that must be a difficult question to answer, seeing as if you haven’t spoken of it already it is unlikely you would be willing to now. So instead of doting on such things, I shall continue on to what happened next. We arrived to the ball later than anticipated (of course, knowing Mama as you do, this cannot be very surprising. She had an idea for the transmorgifier ray and simply had to rush and write it down and spilled ink all over her best gloves…), but there seemed to still be a sizeable amount of people making their way through the receiving line. I was led in by Mr Stuart, and Mama walked in alone, looking quite different than she normally does at home, much more the elegant lady here. “Ah, Mrs Havighurst,” said one of the men in the line, stepping forward to take Mama’s gloved hand and bow over it. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
Mama smiled back at him with a nod. “Mr Heggs. As always, I remain pleasantly surprised that you can dredge my name from the tomes of information you’ve inhaled over the years.”
He laughed, then glanced over to Mr Stuart, not even taking notice of me. “And Thomas Stuart, you as well? I’m glad to see that Henton is worthy of your attention this year! And-oh-” He had noticed me, now; his eyes widened slightly behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “And who is this? Surely not one of the young ladies from Fencott? I was told they’d already arrived.”
Mama stepped back to me, resting a hand on my shoulder and smiling at Heggs. “Mr Heggs, please allow me to present my daughter, Eileen Havighurst. Eileen, I should like you to meet Mr George Heggs.”
It was slight, but his face seemed to fall slightly at my introduction, eyes darting from side to side as though he searched for something. “Well,” he said, “this is quite the oddity indeed. I find you always bring us the greatest conundrums, Mrs Havighurst. For surely you must have known that no outsider should set foot within these halls tonight?”
“Ah.” Mr Stuart spoke up beside me, raising one finger and making that peculiar chest-throat noise he does. “If I may, Heggs. It’s worth noting, should you lot ever care to check your responses to invitations, that it was I who asked Miss Havighurst to accompany me tonight.”
Heggs rounded on Mr Stuart with the admission, and I had to hide my smile. He seemed to be much more at ease, now that the blame could be placed on Mr Stuart-I wonder how often the council has seen fit to quibble with Mr Stuart in the past? “I should think, Thomas, that you ought to know the rules of Henton better than most.”
“Of course. However, Miss Havighurst is my assistant, as I should hope you know, Mr Heggs, considering you and the rest of the council were the ones to direct me to her in the first place,” responded Mr Stuart blandly. “Which gives her full rights to be here, if I recall correctly.”
I have come to quite enjoy whenever Mr Stuart uses that bland voice. Before I had always thought it dreadfully flat, but I’ve come to realize he uses it in only the most appropriate of moments, oftentimes saying things to make even the most poised man cut short and consider! It was no exception here-Heggs looked as though he’d been put on the tenterhooks once again. “A-ha,” he said, glancing between Mr Stuart and me. “Well, I suppose… you must forgive me, Miss Havighurst, it appears your name had entirely slipped my mind until Mr Stuart reminded me.”
All four of us knew it was a lie, but I deigned not to say anything about it, ready to be through the receiving line. I gave him a courteous nod, saying, “You needn’t apologize, Mr Heggs. From what I have been told, Henton seems a most remarkable place. I shouldn’t wonder that its secrets should be so carefully protected.”
I admit that I do not always speak the most prudent of responses, but I could not hold back my smile as Mr Stuart and I moved past Heggs and into the ballroom proper. After I had spoken, Heggs’ eyes had actually narrowed-and he, supposed to be such a prim and proper man!
There was, as always, the fuss of dance cards to be dealt with after that, but finally I was able to make my way through the crowd, attempting to avoid notice as I searched for you. After all, it is considered improper for a young lady to find herself unattended in such a place. As I walked the hall, doing my utmost to take in both the breathtaking sights of the ballroom while at the same time looking everywhere to find you, I found myself growing slightly vexed. You’ll forgive me for saying so, but my faith in your presence was somewhat lacking, Edwin. I found it all too possible that you might have attempted to talk your way out of attending in order to keep tinkering with some project of yours. I could only hope that your tutors had had the good sense to banish you to the ball. I silently vowed to myself that, if I could not find you, I would later compose this very letter before Mr Stuart, Mama, and I left to return to North Cantowne. I shall post this at the nearest station, and laugh when you realize you have missed our one chance at speaking in person, at least for any measurable length of time. Who knows if I shall be permitted to attend again in the coming year? This may have been our only opportunity.
All in all, I was completely taken by surprise when a voice interrupted my mental tirade. “Pardon me. I wonder, would you do me the honor of dancing the galop with me?”
I frowned, looking down at my dance card, which I’d pinned to my sleeve cuff. I hadn’t filled any dance aside from those Mr Stuart had been required to take, and etiquette again dictated that I should not refuse the man’s offer. “It would be my pleasure,” I said, unpinning the card from my wrist. “To whom do I owe this dance?”
The man who had spoken to me smiled, stepping back to give the appropriate bow. I think that he must have been one of the lads you study with, for he looked to be quite close to our age. Do you know of him, Edwin? He introduced himself as, “William Allston. I believe I heard Mr Heggs speaking to you earlier, Miss…?”
“Havighurst,” I supplied.
“Havighurst,” Allston mused, withdrawing a small pencil from his jacket’s inner pocket. “Is there no given name to accompany it?”
I couldn’t help but to smile at that, handing him the dance card so that he could fill in his name for the appropriate dance. “None as of yet. If your dancing is as elegant as your words, perhaps you may learn it then.”
“Very well,” he agreed, nodding to me once more. “I shall find you at the appropriate time then, Miss Havighurst.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
By the time the dancing was to begin, I still hadn’t found you (as I’m certain I needn’t tell you), although I had found several more partners to fill out my dance card. The dancing was enjoyable, to be sure, but I found myself distracted for much of it, though I did my best to pay attention to each of my partners. Looking back, I suppose I ought to have paid more attention to what was going on, for while I do not think I slighted any of my dance partners, I also was not concentrating fully on my dance and so will likely be unable to remember much of the grand experience of my first true ball.
I know you will care little of the dancing you missed, so I shall save my thoughts on the night to share with Regina when I next see her (she is positively green with envy that I was permitted to attend). Instead, I move on to supper, which I am sure is the only thing you remain interested in by this point. Mr Stuart escorted me into the dining room, and I found myself sitting across from one of the young ladies from Fencott, a very prim and proper-looking girl who had been introduced to me as Miss Margaret Kinloch. For the first half of supper we chatted amiably (although of course we didn’t overshadow our dinner partners), and when the main course was about to be served she looked over to me. “Miss Havighurst, I appear to have trodden on my hem sometime throughout the evening and ripped it. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind helping me to mend it?”
I was quite surprised by her words, but I nodded regardless. “Of course, Miss Kinloch. If you will excuse me, Mr Stuart…”
“Not at all,” he said, standing to pull out my chair as I stood myself. On the other side of the table, Margaret’s partner did the same for her, and I found myself walking arm-in-arm with Miss Kinloch as the servants began to enter with the food.
Once we were out of the dining room, though, things took a turn, both metaphorically and literally. Margaret did not continue for the ladies’ powder room, but instead held my arm to hers at the elbow, pulling me towards another door. “What are we doing?” I hissed at her, certain that I was about to be led outside the ballroom, specifically where Mama had requested for me not to go.
“Oh, do be quiet, Miss Havighurst!” she whispered back to me. “If we hurry, we’ll be back before anyone notices our absence.”
I must shamefully admit that I did not question her. I ought to have, I know, but I could not resist the opportunity to see what lay outside the ballroom, and as it was likely Margaret knew the college from prior visits, I followed her.
We escaped the ballroom without notice, and quickly made our way down a series of mazelike hallways. I cannot begin to imagine how one makes it to classes without being constantly lost and late, Edwin, for I was quite turned around within minutes and could only follow after Margaret, who seemed to know precisely where she was going, murmuring something incomprehensible under her breath the entire time. Finally, we came to a rather nondescript-looking door, set into the end of a hallway, and she nodded to herself. “This one. If you would do the honors, Miss Havighurst?”
I reached forward and, with plenty of misgivings, I assure you, pulled open the door she’d intended.
I needn’t tell you of the disaster that happened next. You were, after all, already there within the metalworkings the door led us straight into.
With that, I think I have summed up all that happened before I came stumbling ungracefully into your midst, and now it is your turn to speak, Edwin. I shall post this in the morning (and hope Mama does not ask why I was penning so late into the night-whatever do I tell her?), and will be waiting as patiently as I can for your response. There is a great deal you have to explain to me (who was that man, and why was he speaking so fervently of a-what was it again?-a particle-ray something-or-other that just sounded most dreadful if it were ever put into use?), and I will not be satisfied by anything less than the truth.
Until then, I shall be doing my utmost to keep above any suspicion, and I do hope you are doing the same.
Yours,
Eileen
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