The Latest on Dit

The candles flickered throughout the great ballroom of Blackwood estate. The room was filled with blushing misses and their dutiful Mamas hovering closely by. Lords, a mix of young and old, looking after the young misses and looking for one of their own, were also close at hand. His Grace, Isaiah Blackwood, the Duke of Essex and his wife, the Duchess Anastasia, stood at the edge of the dance floor watching their eldest daughter, Aurelia, entertain one of many suitors filling her dance card this evening. 

Anastasia, in her navy blue ballgown with delicate crystal overlay twinkling at the flicker of the candles, a complement to her rich tawny skin, could not hide her smile as Aurelia laughed and twirled in her pale blue dress, capturing the hearts of all those around her. 

Anastasia was such an attentive Mama that she didn’t notice Lady Belladonna Harrington the newest member of the Ton, enter the room. Unlike the Blackwoods, whose Lord is the sixth Duke of Essex, the Harringtons had been recently granted their earldom by her Majesty after the King’s rather unfortunate run-in with a rogue bull in which Arthur Harrington stepped in, saving the King, who had wandered off during one of his fits. The Queen was most gracious and bestowed on him both land and title. As the season began, Anastasia took Belladonna under her wing, inculcating her with the do’s and don'ts of the Ton. 

“Lovely party, Your Grace. So, who’s this one?” Belladonna asked, her gloved hand subtly indicating the stumpy man dancing with Aurelia. 

“That,” the Duchess said, leaning in closer to her new friend, “is Lord Johnston. His fortune is as wide as his bottom and so is his country estate. Could she do better in the looks department?” Anastasia shrugged her shoulders. The duo began a promenade around the dance floor towards the refreshment table, giggling and trailing Aurelia and now Miss Bridgette Harrington, whose dance card had begun filling the moment they arrived. 

"Is that Lord Reeves dancing with my Bridgette?” Belladonna beamed. Bridgette, like many young misses of the Ton, wore her auburn hair curled, and pinned with ornate, delicate white lilies woven in. For the evening's events, she chose an emerald dress, complementing both her hair and striking green eyes. 

“I dare say, you did hear about that one? He has at least three or four bastards all around London, and some say even more in the country!” Anastasia sneered. 

“Hmm, well I’ll have to tell the Earl about that. We can do much better!” The musicians ended their song and the dance floor cleared momentarily. The ladies watched as suitors fetched the young misses lemonade and squabbled over the last spots on their dance cards. 

“And who is that?” Belladonna said while a glass of ratafia from the table. 

“Well, well, well. I can’t believe she would show her face here. I surely would not. ” Anastasia came in closer, turning her back to the dance floor, blocking their view of a beautiful young miss. 

“That is Miss Charlotte Milford. She is what one would call a spinster. At the ripe age of four and twenty, the drawing room at the Milford home stays empty no matter how hard the miss tries. That dress? Another new style after a visit to yet another foreign modiste, her hair likewise done in the style of the French. Still her dance card remains empty, and her drawing room bare, it seems.” Anastasia whispered. 

“You must tell me everything!” Lady Belladonna whispered excitedly over her drink. 

“Well, the latest on dit is, she's now engaged to Lord Sculthorpe with a special license to wed quickly. And just last week, on a stroll with his Grace, I saw Lady Charlotte exiting the Dark Walk, fixing her dress, and Lord Sculthorpe walking closely behind. But when he learns the truth about her dowry, he may cry off.” 

“The scandal!” Lady Belladonna quietly exclaimed. Nearby, Lady Geneviève Charleston was accompanying her husband the Viscount for some refreshments when her ears began to burn. She made haste to the Ladies Mowatt and Pembroke to share what she just overheard. And soon, like wildfire, the whispers spread. Each Mama became more focused not on what suitor her daughter was dancing with but on the scandal that had befallen Lady Milford. 

“I heard her lipstick was smeared and she spent all her dowry at the modiste.” said one. 

“Oy, no her dress was undone and so were his trousers. And her pa gambled it away.” said another. 

“I heard he had lipstick on his collar and her dowry was lost in a bad investment.” 

By the time it reached Lady Milford’s ears the story had taken on a life of its own. And Anastasia had had enough. 

“You dare to show your face here? After what I saw last week?” Anastasia said, after making her way across the room, Belladonna close behind. 

Lady Charlotte’s tan cheeks grew rosy. “Your Grace, I-I don’t know what you mean. You don’t understand.” 

“Speak up!” Anastasia barked, drawing the attention of those nearby. 

“I wasn’t--I didn’t.” 

“Do you deny what I saw?” her eyes narrowed. 

“No, Your Grace. It’s not what you think. I-” 

“Were you not exiting the Dark Walk fixing your dress with Lord Sculthorpe walking out behind out?” 

“Yes, Your Grace but that is only because--” 

“She admits it!” 

“NO! Nothing happened!” Gasps echoed throughout the ballroom and more whispers began. 

“And I suppose it’s not true about your dowry as well?” 

“What of my dowry, Your Grace?” 

“That you have no dowry. You have spent so much traveling and at the modiste that you have nothing left.” 

“What’s this?” Lord Sculthorpe interrupted the interrogation. 

“Ah, my Lord. Just us ladies having a little chat. Isn’t that right, Lady Milford?” 

“Yes, Your Grace, just us ladies chatting.” Charlotte said quietly. 

“Well, Lady Milford, I shall need to speak with your father about a private matter. Ah, there he is now.” Lord Sculthorpe pushed past Charlotte and could be overheard discussing the matter of her dowry. Lord Milford asked if they could speak in a less public area as the lords made their way into a nearby antechamber. 

“Well, I guess we shall see soon enough if there is any truth in the matter” Anastasia snickered before turning back to the party. “Come, Lady Harrington.” Belladonna hurried behind Anastasia as the tears welled up in Charlotte’s eyes. 

“Your Grace?” Belladonna finally spoke after the pair were back across the room. “Did Lady Milford do something to offend Your Grace?” she said quietly. 

“Not her, her mother.” Anastasia spat. “I once had a love match, and she came between us. Thankfully, His Grace came shortly after, and I, in time grew to love him but...” her voice trailed off as the ghosts of the past danced before her. Belladonna watched Anastasia’s eyes shift towards the hallway. 

“Your Grace? Are you alright?” Belladonna asked 

“Yes, I--” 

“HOW DARE YOU!” A shout came from the hallway and the ball grew quiet. 

“Lord Milford, I am only speaking about what I have heard--” 

“What you heard is rubbish! Where’s my daughter? The betrothal is off!” Lord Milford stormed back into the ballroom and towards Lady Charlotte. “We are leaving” he proclaimed, turning swiftly towards the door. 

Charlotte hurried across the room to Anastasia, bowed politely and tearfully said, “Lovely party, Your Grace.” before scurrying after her father. 

“Is this what one should expect at such parties?” Belladonna asked, once the musicians begun playing again. 

“Only the good ones.” Anastasia replied, taking a sip of her ratafia.