The excitement of earlier had not stopped the rest of the Children’s Ball, so why would it stop the ball for adults? In fact the event seemed to have added a little more excitement to it, as those waiting for their chance to dance had something exciting to gossip about.

The gossip was ever changing however. First it was that Lady Darcie had been unfairly accosted by a servant, then the next one was that Lady Darcie was cruelly berating some nobleman’s bastard child, another that also sprouted was that Lady Darcie had fallen into hysteria after hearing a particularly violent note in a song, or had been terribly upset by some statement made by a fellow noblewoman.

Theodore had done a single dance with Cecilia by request of Bernard, but as soon as he had made sure she made it back to her chair and had her quilt over her legs he excused himself from her and Bernard’s presence.

He left the large dance hall, ghostly moving past ladies in their elegant dresses and men in their staid fashionable clothes. The music became fainter as he slipped past a door and into the hall, where he then followed the familiar route to the verandah in the back of the grand house.

It was a relatively recent addition to the manor, and Bernard had told Theodore that Madame de Mausargille did not approve of it since it was not something the previous baron would have done. But Bernard had it built so Cecilia could enjoy the outdoor air while shaded from sun or other inclement weather to her health.

It was also a very good place for people to go when they wished to be alone.

The verandah was lit up by the sullen moon in its purple hued astral robes and the orange hued gas lamps placed outside of the verandah proper. At the very end, in a corner where the purple glow and orange light fell most strongly, was the narrow shape of Henrietta sitting on a chair bent over a long fold of fabric she stitched at in swift strong movements. Her brow was furrowed with intense concentration and she held part of the thread between her lips.

He was able to walk right up to her and lean over her without her noticing his presence until she had reached a part of the fabric his shadow had covered.

She looked up at him with a start, dropping the thread and nearly losing her needle. “Sir…!”

“Are you really sewing during a ball?” Theodore asked, gently picking up some of the cloth as though to admire it.

“I… I should apologize, sir, my behavior earlier was entirely unacceptable,” Henrietta put her sewing to the side on a small table to get up and bow her head. “To strike someone in anger, especially someone of high standing? I have likely brought shame to you that I never intended-”

Theodore shook his head, “I did not come here for an apology. You could have kicked her too, for all I care.” He glanced back up to the moon. “The Stillvoid Maiden’s a friend to all in need.”

Henrietta seemed to shrink slightly, sitting back down. “...Yes, I felt the moon’s gaze would be slightly less judgemental. I cannot imagine the Baroness or others would be pleased to see me joining for a waltz.”

“I am sure some would be upset, others ambivalent, and yet others would believe you gave her exactly what she deserved,” Theodore said as he picked up the cloth. He ran his finger briefly over the recent stitching. “Come back inside with me, the moon is a friend but her influence may not always be good.” He offered his hand to Henrietta, gently holding it as he helped her stand back up.

Together they walked down the long verandah and to the door Theodore had come from, moving back into the more well lit hallway. Theodore found himself squeezing the thing warm hand a little more than he intended. After a quick stroll, they had found a small parlor like room, largely unused except for a plate covered in crumbs that had been left behind likely when children had been brought in to eat. In the much better lighting, provided by a mixture of candles, a fancy gas lamp, and the odd natural brightness that seemed to permeate the walls, the strange shape of the stitching was more visible. Densely packed, and yet rather than being straight lines they were instead small eye-bending whorls that bit into each other. They would likely need to be redone before they spread to the rest of the fabric.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Henrietta sat down and kept her head facing downwards even as Theodore sat beside her. Her pale thin hands were settled in her lap, polite and unassuming.

“Do you still feel guilty for slapping Lady Darcie?”

“I feel I have set a poor example for Miss Olivia.”

“I disagree,” Theodore said, leaning closer to Henrietta, admiring the self-discipline she held even now. She was assuredly still disappointed in herself, yet managed to avoid a coloring of her features that came from tears or shame. He wanted to see the blood creep up under her fever-pale skin. A little emotion under her serious mask. “There is a point where being lady-like only serves to allow others to continue crushing you under some misguided pretension that you will endure it with a smile. While I would hope Olivia would not hit others unless necessary, an adult standing up for her in such a manner has likely helped her evaluate her self-worth.” He then leaned away, waiting for Henrietta’s response. Before putting Olli to bed, Theodore had asked the girl what happened. Insults of poor breeding and vicious mockery from an adult should have known better did not improve Lady Darcie’s already considerably low position in his mind. In fact he was now considering her below Mrs Greene whom at least had the grace to keep any nasty comments about Olli to herself.

“I thank you sir, but I am not sure aggression is suitable for a lady,” Henrietta sighed softly, but her face was still and cool.

“Aggression is better than endless meekness,” Theodore countered. “She will need to learn to hold herself up one day.”

“What man would want a woman with such a fierce nature?” Henrietta asked with a tone polite and yet with a strange cadence to it. As though she were repeating something she had often heard.

“Well, I can assure you I’ve already made arrangements. She can be a spinster in a comfortable house for eighty years by the time she’s twenty,” Theodore said. “Miss Marsh, there are many terrible people in the world. Some judge on clothes or status. Some desire to use others as stepping stones. Others are ruled by fear, and will harm those they think cursed. If you have taught Olivia how to stand up for herself against such threats, then you have become more successful than any governess I have met.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But,” Theodore was speaking the question as he thought it. “What drew you to such an action?”

Henrietta was quiet for a very long moment. Outside he could hear the music beginning to wind slowly down to prepare for the last dance of the night. Henrietta straightened up. She did not look at him but instead at something distant and only in her memory. “Because I could not stand to see her cry from that. I have helped many children with bumps, bruises, chillbains. I have even stepped in between squabbles. But never have I ever witnessed an adult act so cruelly to a child. The Lady seemed to have even delighted in it,” her face was turning slightly pink, and her hands flexed as if she was barely restraining them from balling up. “How could I have just sat there and done nothing?”

Theodore looked at the young woman beside him and saw a sorrowful lonely girl for a moment. It was not just Olli that had been crying, alone and mocked in the Children’s Ball. It was a young Henrietta too, alone and lost from her mother and father with an oblivious uncle and hateful aunt.

Theodore did not know why Mrs Greene had hated Henrietta, or why Lady Darcie had decided to be horrifically rude to Olli, but what he knew was that it would be terrible to let the night go to waste with hearts full of bitter sorrow. So he got back to his feet and took Henrietta’s hands in his own. “Miss Marsh, with all due respect I think you owe me a dance, do you not? Why else would you have made me help teach Olivia how to dance?”

“Sir?” Henrietta was tugged along, although after they entered the hall she walked quickly to keep up with him.

“Think of it as a last bit of enjoyment we will have for a long while,” Theodore explained as he approached the great doors. “The process of acclimatization to the Capital can be a long one, especially as autumn comes.”

Henrietta seemed a little lost for words, before she gave him a small smile. “Indeed sir, since this is what you wish of me, then I am dutybound to accompany you to a dance. But may I have a request sir?”

He opened the door, music rolled out over them, languid tired figures continued their rotations. “Certainly, I am always ready to accommodate you.”

“May it be a slower dance?” She emphasized her limp leg by moving her weight from it and moving it a step ahead of the other. “This produces a little bit of drag, I am ashamed to say.”

“There is no need to be ashamed,” Theodore said gently, lifting her hand. “Imperfections are gifts from the Distant Gods, or at the very least I think you’re quite lovely.” Then without giving her any time to process those words beyond her face taking on a bright pink hue, he pulled her into the ballroom.