With the invitations all sent, and acceptances flowing in, the next few weeks became a whirlwind of preparation, with the staff continually calling on Catherine and Charles for decisions and instruction, as vast quantities of food were ordered, decorations arranged, an orchestra engaged, and the thousand and one small essential details involved in providing accommodation and food for a horde of house guests addressed. With decorations being progressively placed throughout the house, it was starting to feel like Christmas, Christmas as Tia had never seen it before, and her excitement increased every day, until she was living at fever pitch.
Somehow, between helping where she could, and spending time with the children (for, whilst their nurse, Mrs Millwood, was a truly wonderful woman, she did need to rest sometimes, and the children truly missed Tia if they did not see her, and spend time with her, every day), she still found time to dream, in a few quiet moments here and there. Those dreams featured, usually, a handsome Duke, who swept her off her feet, danced with her, kissed her hand (or maybe more!), and singled her out for his attentions in a most satisfactory way.
Those dreams also, a little to her shame when she considered it, often featured the few female acquaintances of the nobility that Tia could claim – featured them watching her with envy. For, as the ward of the Earl of Stanningfield, she had been, always, neither one thing not the other – not really of the ton, like the other girls were, nor really of the lesser classes. Stuck in between, Tia had been tolerated, but not really accepted, not drawn into their close friendship. They had been all too ready to speak of her disparagingly, if only to make themselves feel more confident in their superiority.
Chide herself as she might, she could not but enough the thought of their discomfiture now.
If nothing else, even if she did not catch the attention of a handsome and eligible gentleman, with the formal adoption as Charles and Catherine’s daughter, she was officially of their class, and it would be much harder for them to ignore her now. A few might even welcome her, which would be considerably more pleasant than dealing with the few who would still disregard her as much as they felt they could, without directly offending the Earl.
On her way to the nursery, Tia passed the ballroom doors, just as the footmen exited, after having put in place yet more decorations. She couldn’t resist quickly taking a look. Slipping through the doors, she found the room empty, just for now. The vast space was transformed by the elegant cloth drapes that had been hung all around, and the huge decorative urns and vases that stood all around, waiting to hold festive greenery and hothouse flowers on the night of the Ball.
The chandeliers shone, with every crystal having been polished, and she envisaged how wonderful the room would look, with all of the candles lit, and sparkling traces of light scattered across the rich drapes.
Imagining the orchestra in place, and the room full or swirling dancers, Tia could not resist – she closed her eyes, humming the music of a scandalous waltz softly, and danced around the room, imagining herself to be in the arms of a handsome Duke, who had eyes only for her. The trailing curls of her hair escaped, as always, from their pins, lifted with her movement, the light fabric of her favourite day dress swirled around her ankles, and, for that few moments at least, her life was transformed.
An odd thump noise startled her out of the beautiful vision, and she stopped, wobbling inelegantly, as she spun towards the door, just in time to see the footmen hauling another large marble urn into the room.
“Our apologies Lady Theodora – there’s no damage – it just slipped a bit, and Tom here thumped into the wall. But we’ve got it now.”
She smiled, assuring them that she was not concerned, and went on her way to the nursery, happy that they had not seen her dancing about like a mad thing, all alone in the Ballroom.
But she didn’t regret doing it. If the real Ball felt as wonderful as those few moments had……
Tia’s obsession with the coming Ball only increased, as the days went by. She would tell herself not to be silly, that the Duke might be ugly, or look old and fat, or, having been a rake for some years, might be worn, cynical and uninterested in unsophisticated young ladies, but part of her was utterly stubborn, and would not let go of her dreams.
She danced about the house whenever she could, she danced the children around the nursery floor, much to their delight, she told them stories of princesses and heroes, and, all the while, she came, more and more, to realise how desperately she wanted to meet someone special.
For some time now, Tia had been feeling rather out of sorts, and had not really known why. But now she did – she was grown, yet she had not really been an adult. She was no longer a child, but had no life of her own as an adult.
She loved papa and Catherine very much, but…. They were still, only three years into their marriage, very caught up in each other, and their new children. It had left Tia feeling somehow excess. She wanted someone of her own – someone to feel about her, as papa so obviously felt about Catherine.
Someone that she could love like that too.
The more that she thought about it, the stronger it became, until, one day, yet again standing in the Ballroom, she closed her eyes, and made a wish, a Christmas wish. For this Christmas, she would like a very special gift.
She wished that, at the Ball, on the eve of Christmas, she would meet someone special, someone who could give her that life and love that she wanted, someone to marry, and have children with. She wished for a sign. She wished that, if she met the right person at the Ball, she would know – know because he would kiss her, she who had never been kissed….
The intensity of the wishing took her breath away, left her heart aching in her chest. It would happen – she was sure of it!