Before anyone could respond, a golden figure appeared in the main doorway. Cecily gasped, her hand fluttering to her chest. “Is that the Clearfall heir?”

Eleanor snorted. “No, that’s Sebastian Gent.”

Cecily turned wide eyes on her. “But you said he was awful. No one that beautiful could be awful.”

She snorted again. “I’ll introduce you if you like.”

Cecily clutched her arm. “You are the best friend in the world.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes at that, then gave the approaching Sebastian her iciest smile. “Master Sebastian, may I introduce my friends, Miss Cecily Silversmith, Miss May Tanner, Miss Rose Vitner and Miss Patience Glassier.”

Sebastian looked ready to sneer until Cecily sank into her best curtsy. “It’s terribly exciting to meet someone from so far away. Was your journey here awfully difficult?”

Eleanor wasn’t sure whether it was the breathless admiration, or the impressive cleavage displayed during Cecily’s dip, but it was enough to engage Sebastian’s interest and he led a blushing, triumphant Cecily onto the dance floor a moment later.

The musicians began the introduction to the opening dance, only to break off in confusion when the Mayor bustled onto the little dais where they sat, flapping his hands. “Good people, good people, we are deeply, deeply honoured this evening. Please pay your respects to our revered Duke and Duchess.”

He bowed in the direction of the door, where an older couple stood; the man tall and commanding with a stern but not unkind face, the woman elegant and composed, a spark of humour in her smile that made Eleanor want to take tea with her. They inclined their heads and crossed the room to greet the Mayor, who then introduced Their Graces to every notable in the place, puffing and preening like a proud hen every time they moved to a new group.

Eleanor of course was too young and unimportant for an introduction, although her father was one of the first presented. She contented herself with watching the crowd watching them. Which was how she spotted him.

A young man with stretched hose and a too-tight tunic sidled into the room and began making his own way around it. What caught her attention was his beard. In a place where almost every other man was clean-shaven, the bushy, wiry mess covering his chin and cheeks reached quite to the base of his throat, although it seemed to prefer to stick straight out in most places, he was remarkable in the worst possible way. His hair wasn’t much better.

Dismissing him as a new apprentice from some backwater village or farm, Eleanor turned back to her twittering friends, then sighed as the next round of suitors approached. John, Jack, Jeremy and Peter, she’d long ago stopped trying to remember which name belonged to which boring face.

They jostled and shoved, each trying to be the first to bow over Eleanor’s hand. She used to find it funny, the way they ignored her friends in favour of her, until the day she’d caught the flash of hurt in the pinch of May Tanner’s eyes. Now she hated it.

She tucked her hands under her arms, hiding them from the moist, puckered lips in front of her. “Get away, you ill-bred pigs, I’m not your feeding trough.”

They gasped and took insult, as if she’d mistaken their intent, instead of reading it to the bone. Every last leech of them saw her as easy blood, and if she let one of them latch on, they’d slough around in sloth and indolence, feeding off her father’s wealth for the rest of their lives.

They turned to the other girls, who smirked and giggled over their attentions and outrageous compliments. Now was the time to hide. To find a tucked away alcove, there were plenty along the balcony looking over the room, and enjoy some peace and quiet.

She wove through the crowd, studiously unhurried but with enough purpose to avoid being drawn into conversation with fond Mamas of clammy-handed youths. When she reached the back doorway, leading to the retiring rooms and the kitchen, she side-stepped into the shadows of the overhanging balcony and through a doorway so narrow, most dismissed it as a trick of the light.

She scampered up the dark, twisting stairs and onto the slim balcony running along the back of the room. No one ever came up here, even if they knew of the stairs, so no candles had been set in the sconces dotted along the wall. It was the perfect place to watch the petty dramas and comedies of the evening, without having to partake. She checked the wooden bench running the length of the wall for dust, then sat with a sigh and looked out over the mingling crowd.

John, James, Jeremy and Peter had realised she’d escaped them and were now trotting around the floor, peering into every group they passed, leaving May and the others abandoned on the side of the dance floor. Cecily seemed happy enough, stepping and circling in time to the music with an increasingly impatient-looking Sebastian.

As the dance wound to its final refrain, footsteps sounded from the stairwell. Who? And how dare they?

The scruffy apprentice she’d seen earlier emerged from the darkness and peered around, even going so far as to wander to the railing and look over, then wave. The idiot was drawing the attention of other idiots like him and she was about to lose her haven. Perhaps she could find a corner near the musicians.

She had to leave before he saw her. She rose as quietly as she could manage, and began to inch her way to the stairs. The young man turned before she’d made it two steps. He smiled and bounded over to her. “I was wondering how to get up here, I’m indebted to you for showing me the way.”

He bowed over her hand as she gaped at him. “And yet you show your gratitude by announcing to everyone below that there is a way. They’re all going to be trampling up the stairs in a moment and it’s your fault.”

He turned his face towards the stairs, where voices were starting to echo up. “Oh, I didn’t think of that.”

He turned back to her. “In that case, would you like to leave them to explore and join me in the next dance?”

She wrenched her hand away from the warm one holding hers, refusing to notice it was quite strong and not sweaty at all. “No I would not. I have no desire to dance with a walking bird’s nest.”

Spinning on her heel, she made for the door, only to be forced back as John, James, Jeremy and Peter barrelled out of it, followed by Sebastian and a querulous Cecily.

She rushed towards Eleanor. “Oh, that place is so tight, I could barely breathe. Please tell me my dress is undamaged.”

Eleanor sighed. “I’m sure it will be fine, let’s go back down so we can check in the light.”

One of the irritating four called out. “No need. I’m having one of the servants bring up candles. Can’t believe we haven’t discovered this spot before.”

In a horribly short moment, the balcony was lit, and servers were bringing up jugs, glasses, and plates of food. Cecily had summoned the other three girls by leaning over the railing and calling down directions. Others followed them and Eleanor found herself in the centre of one of the merriest parties the Quarter Day Ball had ever hosted. It was awful.

Bird-nest Beard had disappeared at some point. Eleanor hadn’t seen him leave, but every time she tried to do the same, someone else would appear on the stairs and force her back up again.

It was an aeon before the final strains of the final dance wavered across the room and servants began carrying summons from parents up to the balcony, instead of trays. Eleanor made for the stairs, finally making it to the bottom, and marched across the floor to her parents. “Can we go now?”

Her mother linked their arms together and guided her towards the front hall. “Why were you so horribly rude to poor Fabian. His mother is quite beside herself.”

Eleanor tossed her head. “Have you spent any time near him, Mama? Someone had to tell him.”

Mistress Marchant jerked hard on Eleanor’s arm. “It didn’t have to be you. And I’ve had several other friends mention your unkindness towards their sons this evening. These are your friends Eleanor, people you will be interacting with for the rest of your life. You need to be nice.”

Pulling free of her mother’s hold, Eleanor allowed the attendants in the foyer to help her on with her cloak and overshoes, then moved to stand beside her father, who was chatting with the Mayor as he shrugged into his cloak.

She arrived in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. “…of course she’s the more capable of the two, but I’m sure he’ll catch up.”

The mayor was looking dubious but broke off whatever his reply was going to be to greet her.

They exchanged polite quips while Sebastian fussed with a set of over-hose to protect his silly cream ones for the walk back across the square.

Finally he was ready. He looked ridiculous, and Papa led them outside. The rain had stopped and with the lanterns lit around the square, the path home was a simple one. Sebastian offered his arm. Eleanor snorted and walked down the Hall steps on her own.

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