It had taken a little over an hour for Fanny to get ready, much to the dismay of her brother, Charles. But the hours before any ball had always been quite the affair in the Langley house. There were sisters all helping one another get ready, the little ones dashing around looking for the appropriate shawl, and Charles perpetually calling from downstairs that they were going to be late.
But Fanny had wanted to look especially nice tonight, for this time, Arabella was keeping the younger set company as Fanny had done for the last two dances. So each curl was carefully set, her shoes polished nicely by her little brother, and her dress (old as it was) had been carefully washed.
There was nothing more she loved than dancing. The swiftness, the grace, the giddy romance of it all. She relished it. And what made tonight particularly special was the fact that the Fitzgeralds were hosting it. They always brought in the finest musicians and chefs from London, and every party they had was always a crush.
She smoothed her dress once more and when she looked up, she realized she had lost her brother in the crowd somewhere. But she was unbothered by it, for she was in such high spirits that nothing would trouble her tonight. She took her place by one of the walls and searched the sea of faces for someone she recognized.
