For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel Read Free

now, have I not set your mind at ease? It is all a matter of how you look at the thing,” Agnes concluded with satisfaction.
    I had to smile at her manner of reasoning. From it, I could see there was nothing to be gained by debating the point any further. “Yes, of course,” I answered lightly, setting aside my peevishness. After all, nothing should be allowed to interfere with the pure enjoyment of a ball. If the circumstances were somewhat ridiculous, so much the better, for then the more easily might I find humor in them.    
    Agnes and I parted ways as the music from the string and woodwind ensemble at the top of the room resumed. An eager Mr. Hopkins arrived to claim my hand, leading me out onto the polished wood floor. As we went about our business, I was not surprised to discover him quite unequal to the task of sustaining his share in the conversation. I admit it; my mind soon wandered from my partner and my eyes did likewise. I began by absently surveying the room. Yet before long, without any conscious design, my perusal took a more specific turn. I scanned over the heads of the crowd for a tall, fair-haired man with a friendly countenance and a familiar form. Where was Arthur? I had seen him earlier, so I knew he must be somewhere about.
    Arthur Evensong would have been a much more pleasing partner for me. He was no flatterer. He instead paid me the higher compliment of treating me as an equal. I had by no means any special claim upon Arthur. In fact, everyone in Wallerton acknowledged him to be Agnes’s rightful property, the parents of the two having long since settled the matter and the couple themselves showing every inclination toward the match. Yet Agnes would not have begrudged me a share of his attention, and I would have been grateful for it at that moment. For, if he had chosen to do so, it would have been in Arthur’s power to keep the wolves at bay.
    As it was, I felt the greedy creatures closing in, circling and weaving all about me on the dance floor as if I were a plump rabbit, ready for the taking. Still, picturing the unsuspecting Mr. Hopkins and the others festooned with large, pointed ears and bushy tails poking out from under their cutaway coats gave me considerable amusement. I eyed my partner and thought, “Yes, we may have some sport together – the hunter and the hunted – but this is one rabbit who has no intention of being caught, at least not yet… and not by the likes of you.”
    Mr. Hopkins was succeeded by several others of similar bent before I found myself unexpectedly at liberty. John Franklin, having sprained his foot, was obliged to forfeit his turn. Since the last thing I wanted at that juncture was to attract a replacement partner, I quietly eased myself away from the group of dancers, melted through the crowd of onlookers, and did my best to disappear into my surroundings. I had nearly made good my escape into the next room when a man addressed me from behind.
    “Jo...”
    I started, momentarily cringing at the sound of my own name. Just as quickly, I relaxed again and turned round when I realized the warm baritone voice belonged to Arthur Evensong.
    “Why do you steal away into the parlor, Miss Walker?” he continued with a spark of amusement. “You truly have the look of a fugitive, skulking about in dark holes and corners. Have you committed a dreadful social faux pas or are you hiding from someone particularly annoying? Which is it?”
    “The latter is a more accurate surmise,” I answered with a laugh. “I finally have a dance free and I am determined to keep it that way.”
    “What a pity, for I would have gladly asked you.”
    “And there is no one here with whom I would rather dance, old friend. Will you not stay and talk with me instead? Let us sit down; my feet are grievously in need of rest.”
    Entering the deserted parlor, Arthur led the way to seats at its farthest reaches where it was comparatively quiet. A minimum of candles had been deployed