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Felicia gazed across the expanse of her ballroom and let out a dissatisfied hum. The dinner and dance she’d hosted a few days before to show off the newly re-decorated space had been a great success. She’d enjoyed herself, and compliments had poured in from her guests. But something was still missing.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of doing it over again.”
She turned to find Sid leaning in the doorway behind her. Seeing his uniform, she frowned. “Is it three already?”
“I’m early. The Father’s busy, Mrs. M.’s a bit ticked at me for dropping a vase earlier, and I can’t find anyone else to annoy. So,” he grinned, “I thought I’d come bother you ahead of schedule.”
“I could use the distraction,” she sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about this room.” She took it in again as she spoke. It was a shell of classic perfection, containing only elements that were never dated and would always be in style. It should have been enough.
“That’s understandable. It’s gorgeous.” She glanced back at him, surprised by the superlative. “What? I think it looks nice, that’s all. Shouldn’t I?”
“No, you should.” Her puzzlement deepened. “You’re right. It’s a lovely space. A lovely gift.” The room’s massive budget had been Monty’s anniversary present to her. A generous present sent, she’d thought with a mixture of sadness and annoyance at the time, in lieu of its giver.
“...You don’t like it, do you? Even though you picked it out, designed it or whatever. You don’t like it.”
“I do like it.” Everyone who had seen it liked it. Unfortunately, that number didn’t happen to include the man who’d paid for it, as he'd been too busy in London to attend the new room’s inaugural ball. Felicia had danced anyway, with old friends and more than one prospective lover, and had had fun without Monty at her side. “It’s just...oh, I don’t know what it is, Sid. It feels so...” She hugged herself, suddenly chilled. “Lonely.”
That’s what it was. This room was a lonely place. There had been two hundred people in it less than a week earlier, and Felicia had been in the arms of several of them. But remembering that didn’t help, because the next time she danced, be it here or in someone else’s home, there was no guarantee that any of those same men would be her partner.
It had been like that for years now. She still liked the variability – once upon a time, in fact, she would have shied away from the idea of a steady dance partner – but as she’d aged she’d also started to find it soothing to step out onto the floor with someone whose movements she already knew by heart. You could dance the same dance, the same steps, with a dozen different men, and you would dance in a dozen different ways. It was nice to be able to move together without thinking, to fall into a sort of flow, to take a miniature mental break in the middle of all the hustle and bustle of a ball.
Or so she imagined. It had been so long since she’d been able to dance with the same man regularly that she couldn’t really remember how such a safe harbor felt. All she knew was that she wished she had one now, when she was finally able to appreciate the comfort it could bring.
Without warning, there was warmth beside her. “...Hey. Lady F. You alright?”
She looked up at Sid’s frank, open expression. “There’s no good reason why I shouldn’t be.”
“Then why’d you sound sad just now?”
“Did I?” She tried to laugh it off, but no relief lightened his eyes. And then, inexplicably, she was telling him what she had just realized.
“...So I imagine that’s what came through as sadness in my voice,” she concluded a minute later. “I may never have that experience again. Not married to...not in my current situation. There’s no one I can count on to always be happy to play escort, but to not expect anything more to come out of it. I suppose I could pay some stranger, but I’d rather it was someone I actually enjoyed spending time with.”
“Well...might be pretty scandalous,” Sid mused. “But I’m game if you are.”
Felicia tore her gaze from the chandelier and stared at him. “...What?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Isn’t that what you were getting at?”
“No, it wasn’t, but...”
But it was a rather brilliant solution, at least for balls here at the House. Sid cleaned up well, and he knew how to behave himself when he wanted to. He could talk to anyone, so he wouldn’t feel the need to cling to her side the entire night. As her employee, he was already available for almost any evening she might choose to host on. And even though he was her employee, she did enjoy his company. He seemed to enjoy hers, too, but she’d never sensed that he either expected or wanted anything more than the friendly rapport they’d had almost from the moment they’d met. “...But that might work very well, now that you suggest it. I’ll pay you extra, of course.”
Sid shrugged. “Can if you want, but it’s a free fancy dinner and a bit of fun to me either way. I don’t have any nob clothes, though. This,” he indicated what he was wearing, “might stand out a bit in the middle of all the glitz and glamour.”
“We’ll get you something more suitable.” Yes. The longer this idea existed in the world, the more Felicia liked it. This was going to be fun. There might be a few whispers of indiscretion, especially once people noticed that her escort at House balls was the same man who drove her everywhere else, but she’d survived far worse things than allegations of inappropriate relations with her staff.
“Alright. Then there’s only one other problem.”
No. Nothing was going to ruin this. The beautiful room they were standing in already felt warmer and brighter. Whatever concern Sid brought up, they would find a way around it. “What is it?”
“Didn’t exactly go to Eton, did I?” He gave her a regretful grin. “All those stodgy dances and stuff you and them that did go to fancy schools learned as kids...I can fake them, more or less, but you deserve better than fake.”
Felicia was so relieved that she laughed out loud. “I’m sorry,” she apologized when he blinked at her in bemusement. “I just thought you might have come across a problem that would be more difficult to fix than that.”
“Seems like a pretty big problem to me if your would-be dance partner can’t, y’know, dance.”
“It would be,” she allowed, “if it wasn’t a problem that we can easily fix. Though you’ll have to give up a few of your off-hours to lessons.”
“What, you thinking of hiring a dance teacher?”
“No.” She squared up to him. “I flatter myself that I’m a very good ballroom dancer. I’m going to teach you.”
“Yeah?” He grinned anew. “You sure you want to? My teachers always said I was a bad student.”
“I’m sure you were an absolute nightmare in the classroom,” Felicia agreed. “But I doubt it was entirely your fault. You were probably bored out of your mind.” Sitting still for hours and staring at a book or listening to a lecture wasn’t something she could picture the adult Sid, let alone a more youthful version of him, doing happily or easily.
His expression turned commiserating. “You too, huh?”
“To a lesser extent, I imagine, but suffice it to say that I preferred the days when we had dancing and other physical classes to the ones spent parsing sentences and memorizing lists of kings.”
“Just common sense, that is.”
“Both have their uses, but I know which I liked better. Now, take my hand. We won’t try and do anything complicated today, since I still need to get ready, but we have time to make a start.”
It didn’t take long for Sid to smooth the rough edges off of his hold and his box steps. To his credit, he only stepped on her toes twice, and his apologetic winces chased off any second thoughts about their lessons that the weight of his uniform boots might otherwise have inspired in Felicia's mind. Soon he was moving with nary a glance towards the ground. “This’s more fun than it looks,” he remarked.
“Then you’re ready for the next part,” Felicia replied. “While you’re dancing, you should be able to hold a conversation. So, tell me about the vase that Mrs. McCarthy is annoyed with you over.”
“Oh.” He nearly stepped on her again, but managed to catch himself in time. “I really didn’t mean to drop it. She was just so pestery this morning, wanting me to put this over there, nudge that three inches to the left. So I’m standing around with this heavy thing in my hands, and she couldn’t decide where she wanted it. It was already full of water, too, so that was splashing out every time I moved it. I felt it starting to go, and I tried to get it to a table, but it was no good. Complete mess all over the floor, her glaring like I’d just started cursing in the middle of a Mass...I got out as quick as I could, but I think there might be scorch marks on the back of my collar.”
She smiled at his illustration. “Please tell me it was that hideous yellow-green thing.”
“You mean her absolute favorite one? Course it was.”
“Good. I hated that vase. The color looked like-” She broke off before she began to repeat some of the nastier things she’d overheard other women talking about finding in their infants’ diapers.
“...D’you want me to say it?” Sid asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No. We both know what I’m thinking.”
He smirked. “Heh. Yeah.”
“Still, as terrible as that vase was, I’m sorry she’s upset about it. And I'm surprised that you aren’t more put out about her reaction.”
“Eh, she knows I didn’t do it on purpose. She’ll get over it if I stay out of her way for a couple of days. Anyway, just gives me more time to irritate you, doesn’t it?”
“So long as you keep missing my toes, I don’t think you’ll irritate me enough to glare scorch marks into the back of your neck.”
“Didn’t figure you’d do that even if you were ticked off,” he chuckled. “I mean, you paid for the uniform. You’d be throwing your own money away.”
A fresh laugh escaped her. Oh, this really was fun. “...Thank you, Sid.”
He studied her for a second, never breaking their rhythm. Felicia couldn’t imagine why his teachers had called him a bad student when he was so clearly a quick learner. “...’Sit feel a bit less lonely in here now?”
“Yes. It does.”
“Good.” He turned his right hand just enough to glance at his watch. “We missed three,” he noted. “You still need time, right?”
“I do.”
“How quick do you want the car?”
“I’d like half an hour to get ready,” she confessed as they continued to move, “but the tea starts at four, and it’s a forty-minute drive to Hawthring Hall.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He winked, then released her. “I’ll take a shortcut or two. Car’ll be out front in ten, in case you don’t end up needing the whole half hour. But no rush.” With that, he shot her a final grin and loped out of the ballroom.
“...Thank you, Sid,” she whispered in his wake. Before she, too, exited the room, she turned back and took it in once more. There was still a hollowness to it, now that she was alone again, but she sensed that that wouldn’t last. After all, they had many lessons to go before Sid would be ready for a ball.
In fact, she registered happily, having him as her partner meant that she wouldn’t even have to wait for a ball if she wanted to dance. He’d said it was fun, and he wouldn’t have lied about something like that just to spare her feelings. As such, she couldn’t imagine him refusing many requests for a quick turn across the floor once he no longer needed instruction. Her anniversary present, she decided, was going to get used much more often than she’d thought. And if Monty didn’t want to be part of that, well, it was his loss.