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Belle tugged at her gown’s high neckline, trying to eradicate the overwhelming stuffy feeling filling the ballroom. It was the colony’s tenth or so anniversary (Belle didn’t care much to remember) and her sister had decided to throw an elaborate ball in celebration, much like the one she had thrown at the arrival of their Uncle Dickie over a year ago. The ballroom was decorated with ornate lanterns and candlestands, and extra drapery had been added to the curtains. Waiters walked about the room, holding platters filled with hor d'oeuvres and champagne flutes. At the far end of the hall, sat the orchestra, who had been playing the music all evening. A cheery tune now echoed throughout the ballroom, as people in frilly, ornate outfits danced in the middle of the floor. Despite this, most of the guests hung around the outskirts choosing to just listen to the music, while drinking champagne and gossiping with one another.
Belle had just been caught in a long, boring conversation with a young woman about her age, Lady Moffit, who had very obviously overdone the champagne, and had been babbling more than speaking. As soon as a waiter had come by with another serving of champagne, Belle had taken the distraction and slipped further into the outskirts of the ballroom, near one of the large windows, taking in the smallest bit of a breeze that filtered through the small crack in the glass.
From her position in the back, Belle could now see most of the guests as they flitted about. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for a specific mop of blonde hair amongst the packed crowd. Her and Jack had arrived together, and it was the first time they had attended a ball since their wedding. Her mind drifted back to their conversation this morning. He had been so worried, horrified that he would make a fool of himself in front of the “toffs,” as he called them.
“Jack, you have to come to the ball.” Belle had chided, smoothing out the lapels of his new suit. She had bought it for him earlier that week to make sure that it was specially tailored to his body. It suited him nicely, she thought, eyes roaming over his chest.
“Belle, I don’t know all of the proper etiquette, and your parents will be there! I’ll make a fool of myself.” Jack responded, tugging at his collar. Belle swatted his hand away.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about my father, he makes a fool of himself at every ball with the amount of whiskey he drinks. As for my mother, I doubt you can make her dislike you any more than she already does.”
“I thought she was warming up to me?” Jack asked, looking slightly disappointed. Belle chuckled.
“That doesn’t mean she likes you.” Belle ran her hands down his suit one last time, then took a step back to inspect her work. “Besides, all the guests will be awfully boring. If you do something idiotic, at least I shall have some entertainment.”
Belle looked up at him with a teasing smile. Jack narrowed his eyes.
“Glad to know my humiliation brings you amusement.” Belle quickly leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Just smile and laugh and make small talk. It is rude to walk away when someone starts a conversation with you. Even if they bore you to death.” Belle explained. “Oh, and you must dance at least once.”
“Is that all?” Jack responded, giving her a cheeky smile.
“It should at least keep you from being thrown out of the colony.” Belle replied, matching his smirk. She held out her elbow, and Jack held out his arm so that she could loop it through. “Now, we should get going.”
Jack gestured at the door with his free hand.
“After you, M’lady.”
Now Jack was standing near the center of the ballroom, locked in a seemingly awkward conversation with her parents. She watched the way he ran his hands through his hair twice (his nervous habit), while his mother stared back at him with a tight-lipped smile. Her father, on the other hand, was happily chatting away, most likely holding his fifth glass of whiskey. He reached out to clap Jack on the back, who stumbled slightly at the force of it. Jack let out an awkward laugh in response.
Taking in another deep breath, Belle smoothed out her dress, preparing to rejoin the crowd and save her husband from utter destruction at the hands of her parents. A waiter passed by, and she grabbed a champagne flute, throwing it back in one gulp, hoping the buzz of the alcohol would get her through the next two hours.
She had just finished swallowing her drink when she felt a highly inappropriate tap on her shoulder. Belle whipped around, turning to the offender: some awkward looking gentleman wearing a very expensive (and frilly) suit. His hands were clasped behind his back as if trying to hide the evidence. The man looked up at her with a full-tooth smile, very obviously looking right at her chest. Belle narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat.
“Excuse me? What do you think you are doing?” Belle asked, taking a slight step back.
“I just had to introduce myself to the lovely Lady Belle. My name is Sir Edward Bramblesby. I arrived at the colony just a week ago.” Sir Bramblesby responded, reaching out for her hand. Reluctantly, Belle gave in, and he placed a kiss to the back of it, just above where the gold of her wedding band gleamed under the candlelight. “It is lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Belle politely nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable shiver that ran down her spine at the sight of him. She wished she could just walk away, but she could feel the passerbys’ eyes on her and knew she was trapped. Oh, how she hated social etiquette!
“How are you enjoying the colony, Sir Bramblesby?”
“Oh, it is wonderful! Yes, very obliging. Though, I must admit the weather is dreadful.” Bramblesby rambled, his gaze finally drifting up to her face.
“Very different from London I imagine.” Belle replied. Her gaze drifted around the room. Surely, another waiter would be passing by soon. She was going to need another drink.
“Yes, I have sweat in places I never thought possible!” Bramblesby responded. Belle grimaced.
“I see.”
“You know we met once in London, back when you were just a girl. I had just inherited my father’s estate.” Bramblesby said, giving Belle an odd smile. Belle laughed awkwardly.
“I apologize. I’m afraid I do not remember you.” Belle replied diplomatically.
“Ah, no need. You were quite young. Not the lovely young woman you are now.” Bramblesby gave her another look over. Belle took another step back.
“I appreciate that, Sir.”
Bramblesby took a sip of his champagne, giving Belle another chance to look around. Her eyes locked with Jack’s, who was still trapped between her parents. His eyes drifted between her and Bramblesby beside her, and his gaze turned into worry. Belle tried her best to send him the most subtle, uncomfortable expression in the hopes he would understand her message, but Jack’s brow only raised in question. She was about to begin mouthing “help” when Bramblesby cleared his throat, forcing her attention back to him. He was now looking down at her hand, staring at the gold ring around her finger.
“I hear you are married now.” Bramblesby prodded, his expression morphing into something stoic.
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Jack Dawkins now.” Belle replied, a small smile gracing her face despite herself.
“Dawkins…is he not the town’s head surgeon?” Bramblesby narrowed his eyes.
“Yes, recently appointed.” Belle couldn’t keep the hint of pride from her voice. In contrast, Bramblesby’s expression contorted into something that could be considered pity.
“I’m surprised to find you married so beneath your station. I’m awfully sorry for you.” Bramblesby stepped closer to her, his arm brushing her own.
“It was my choice.” Belle took another step back. Bramblesby took another step toward her.
In a move of utter and ridiculous boldness, Belle felt as Bramblesby’s fingers wrapped against her own. He leaned in, his breath against her ear.
“If you change your mind…I’m currently in the market for a wife. In fact, I’m quite embarrassed to admit that I came all this way…for you…” Bramblesby whispered, giving her the most sultry look he could muster, though to Belle he looked more like her father’s drooling bulldog.
Bramblesby’s fingers wrapped tighter around Belle’s, despite her attempts to pull away. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe just Bramblesby’s fishy smelling breath, but Belle no longer cared about making a scene. She pushed at Bramblesby with all her might, shoving him away from her.
“Get off of me!” She yelled, the sound of her anger echoing throughout the ballroom. The whole room went silent as all eyes turned towards them: Brambleby standing absolutely bewildered a few feet away from her and Belle staring him down with angry eyes, chest heaving.
She felt an arm wrap around her waist, the familiar scent of her husband filling her senses. She turned towards him, grateful for his presence. His hand cupped her cheek, looking down at her with eyes filled with worry.
“What happened Belle?” He asked, rubbing slow circles on her lower back.
“This man apparently does not believe me to be happily married.” Belle replied, turning back to Bramblesby with a glare.
She felt Jack’s gaze move from her to Bramblesby, anger radiating off of him. Jack let go of her, much to Belle’s disappointment, stepping up to Bramblesby who was looking up at him with horror. Jack pulled at the man’s lapels, forcing them face to face. Belle could hear the gasps of the bystanders nearby.
“Did you touch my wife?” Jack asked coldly. Bramblesby shook his head quickly, though his whole body was shaking. Jack scoffed.
“Well you must’ve done something. Lady Belle wouldn’t have pushed you for no reason.” Jack replied. Bramblesby laughed awkwardly.
“Maybe I did a little…” Bramblesby admitted. As Jack glared deeper at him, Bramblesby quickly held out his hands in surrender, backtracking. “But it was just her hands! I was just talking to her!”
A long pause filled the room, the bystanders waiting with baited breath for Jack’s response. Bramblesby also seemed to be holding his breath as he stared up at Jack’s angry expression, twiddling his thumbs as a nervous tic. Belle watched as Jack’s eyes narrowed once more, seemingly having made up his mind as he took a step back. A collective groan filled the room. Clearly, the guests wanted a show.
Bramblesby on the other hand, seemed elated. However, just as he took in a breath of relief, Jack’s fist came flying at him, landing squarely in the center of his face. Bramblesby fell to the floor, his nose dripping with blood. Gasps filled the room, followed by excited chatter as Jack walked back over to Belle, holding out his arm.
“I believe it is time to go.” Jack said. Belle looped her arm with his.
“Yes, I believe so.” Belle replied, a small smile crossing her face.
With that, Jack led the way out of the ballroom, passing by the gossiping bystanders and the horrified look of Belle’s mother.
~*~
The cool night air felt like a blessing as Jack and Belle finally stepped out of the estate. Belle took in a deep breath, feeling all the tension in her body ebb away. Jack turned towards her, placing a hand on her cheek.
“Are you alright?” He still looked worried. Belle couldn’t help letting out a giggle.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Though I don’t believe you’ll be invited to any more balls. You made quite the scene in there.” Belle replied cheekily. Jack had the decency to look sheepish.
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand how he didn’t even seem the least bit guilty. I wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face!” Belle could feel the way his fingers tensed up against her skin. She took his free hand in hers gently.
“And I’m grateful you did. That weasel deserved it.”
“Your mother looked furious.” Jack muttered. Belle rolled her eyes.
“Well, you did make quite a terrible faux pas and we might never be invited to a ball ever again. However, I wouldn’t worry much about it.” Jack looked unconvinced.
“Why not?”
“Because I hate balls. I’d much prefer getting my hands dirty.” Belle replied slyly. Jack grinned.
“I couldn’t agree more.”