Teach me how to dance, {open to anyone}

A flash of sky blue and blonde raced through the halls of Fledston Hall, giggling as the soles of her shoes clacked on the polished wood floors and thudded over rugs without a care in the world. Right, left, straight ahead and around the corner. The little girl quickly tired of running, slowing her pace. She thought of going to her room to play with her toys or read a book, but then she passed a door that was open just a crack. Jane poked her head in, curiosity budding now. The ball room. She quickly scanned the halls, making sure no one was watching her and then looked back into the room, debating for a moment whether or not she should go inside. What could it hurt? She pushed through the door, closing it for the most part, but leaving it open just a little as though it hadn't been touched.

It was so vast and large! She looked across the floor in all its elegantly polished glory, and then glanced down at her shoes. Looking back up, a smile spread across her face. She moved to the right of the door and pulled her shoes off, scampering out into the middle of the room. Jane looked around at all the space, still smiling and imagining the room was full of people. Preparing her body for it, Jane did a quick pirouette twirl and then another, until she dropped to the floor, giggling and dizzy. The strange sensation in her stomach made her feel like she was being tickled. As soon as her head went right again, she stood up.

Jane smoothed out the blue fabric of her dress and fixed her stockings before going to one end of the room. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then ran to about the middle of the room when she stopped, allowing herself to slide in her stocking feet before falling backward and into another giggling fit. Jane panted, her hair splayed out all over the place like a blonde stream of water. She was enjoying herself. That's what made it so perfect for her...this moment. The fact that she could enjoy it in private, having escaped her nanny and brother. She had free license to do as she pleased for the moment. And she would use it to her advantage.

Eleanor had been daydreaming. Later she fully admitted it -- to herself, at least. But it was the most wonderful dream -- horseback riding in the forest, not another soul in sight. The rays of dawn cut through the mist, leaving long, pink and yellow trails through the fingers of the trees.

Of course her daydream was entirely impractical, too. The poor horse probably couldn't tell left from right in the heavy mist, no matter how beautiful it seemed. And any practical, married woman would rarely be caught alone in a forest on a horse. It all dissipated in an instant.

"Mrs Carlyle? ... The pink or the yellow?"

Eleanor blinked once, twice. Her lady's maid came back into focus, like an old acquaintance nearly gone from one's memory. Two samples of silk were in her hand, one pink, the other yellow. Oh yes. Eleanor remembered. Jane's new dress.

"Well -- I don't know --" Eleanor fingered the pink silk. "Jane always looks lovely in pink. But I don't think I've seen her in yellow. At least not at this age." Her little girl was to have a new dress made up by Eleanor's seamstress for the upcoming empire ball. Truthfully, she hadn't a hand in most of her daughter's wardrobe, other than leaving the decisions up to the seamstress and admiring the handiwork when Jane appeared in her new clothing. This time she thought it might do to be a little more involved in the choice.

"Perhaps if we could see the samples next to Miss Carlyle?"

The nanny was called for. A few more heartbeats passed than usual. Nanny should have been here by now, with Jane in tow. Eleanor and her maid traded cautious glances, which gradually developed into tense looks at the clock.

Suddenly Nanny burst into the room. Miss Carlyle was no where to be found!

Nanny, Eleanor and her lady's maid split up in their search through the manor. Eleanor found herself pacing the halls of the ground floor, eyes searching every darkened corner, inspecting every room -- open or not. Even so, only one thought pulsed through her mind, the same thought that invades each mother's mind when their child is missing. Kidnapped.

"Jane darling?" her voice, strong with a note of worry, echoed in the dim hallway.

Eleanor was just passing the ballroom when a wave of boisterous giggling rose from the room. A relieved smile broke on her lips. She had never been so thrilled to hear that little girl's laugh! Mrs Carlyle peeked in the ballroom, spying her blond daughter who looked quite content to be splayed out on the ballroom floor. As she opened the door a crack more, Eleanor tried to affix her best "mother" face ... but it wasn't working.

"Didn't I receive an invitation to this ball?" she asked with a half-smile, entering the room and smoothing her gown.

Quickly, Jane got to her feet, biting her lip. For a moment she was worried about getting into trouble, and then...then she recognized a certain gentle nature in her mother's composition. "Sorry." The smile that had vanished slowly returned, Jane covered it with her hand as she tried not to laugh. She walked over to her shoes and put them on her feet again. Almost as though she were obediently following an order, she walked to Eleanor's side and took her hand.

"How many days until the ball, Mother?" she asked casually. There were already guests here in Fledston Hall, but there would be more people arriving as the ball drew closer, and Jane liked it when things were busy. Downtime was always nice too, but there was so much of it sometimes it made things boring for the young adventurer. She was uncertain about whether or not other children her age would be attending, but she guessed not. At any rate, Alfred and Daniel were visiting and would be there for the ball, and what a thrill that was!

Then a thought crossed Jane's mind. She didn't know how to waltz or foxtrot yet! She hadn't been taught. "I don't know how to dance!" she both looked and sounded horror struck. "What do I do?" Jane cast a forlorn glance across the floor reflecting on this new problem.

Oh, who wanted to got to a ball anyway? She would have much more fun in her room with her things to keep her entertained. There would be boring, adult conversation, and she would be significantly shorter than everyone around her. She'd get stepped on. She could enjoy time spent with her Nanny and the rest of the staff--

Who was she kidding? Of course she wanted to attend! They would be her guests as much as those of her parents and it simply would not do to turn the opportunity away to establish herself and make an appearance. It wasn't the first ball the Carlyles had hosted and it certainly would not be the last. Many of the same people would still attend, year after year,

Eleanor prayed her smile hid her intense relief. Jane simply had hid in the ballroom and not unaccompanied below stairs. Although she didn't prefer it, as long as Nanny was accompanying her, Jane could visit the servants' hall and eat there every so often. But without her escort, any devious tradesman coming to the servants' entrance could spot Jane and ... well, Eleanor did not want to think about it much longer. She took her daughter's hand and gazed about the empty ballroom.

"How many days?" Eleanor repeated after her daughter questioned about the date of the ball. "Let's see. We have to wait for your father to return home, of course. Did you know that the Norrises and Wyatts were invited? Mrs Norris will be bringing her baby." Perhaps her friend's son would bring about an interest in being a mother to Jane, although he would hardly be a comparable playmate for the ten year old girl. Eleanor wished Jane had a few more girls her own age to play with -- like she herself had when she was younger, when she was still a Gyford and lived in that gabled house in the village. They'd climb trees to purposely bother their parents, tearing their skirts on branches and getting leaves ensnared in their hair. Now, what would Jane's memories be of her youth?

Suddenly Jane, sounding startled, broke through her thoughts.

Eleanor struggled to suppress a laugh. Jane looked so alarmed at her lack of dance instruction! "Any young lady must know how to waltz at the very least. Here, I'll teach you."

No matter if her dress at the minute wasn't exactly the best suited for dancing. Eleanor strode to the middle of the ballroom and lifted her skirts to allow a view of her buttoned boots. She hadn't done much dancing recently, with Mr Carlyle gone more than he was with the family. But once a young woman learns each popular society dance and takes a spin around the ballroom several hundred times with prospective suitors, she rarely forgets the steps.

"Step back on your right foot, then across with your left foot..." Eleanor demonstrated the beginning steps. "Then bring your right foot to meet your left foot." She hummed Blue Danube, picturing the floor full of swirling fabrics and figures with the strains of a string quintet filling the room.

She stopped and smiled at Jane, to be sure she still held the little girl's attention. "Do you want to try?"

"...Mrs Norris will be bringing her baby."

"Oh...that should be nice..." but she wasn't particularly interested in small children. They were alright, but not much for company or entertainment. Actually, when she thought about it, she didn't care much for them. They carried on, they could not speak in proper English. She would probably grow out of it as she got older... Jane and her brother were not distant in age-- she was three when he was born, young enough to appreciate his infancy, but not much else. Now they were grown (to some extent) and kept each other company, for the most part. But difference in gender paired with age separated them just a little. Different things were expected of them as they got older and life lessons were also dissimilar. Alas, Jane found herself utterly alone.

Jane took a moment to admire the quality and taste with which her mother chose her clothing. A beautiful gown, a fine pair of shoes, and all of these things chosen in the right shades. Her mother was a very beautiful woman; serene, gorgeous...elegant. Jane had to admire that too, and only hoped she could manage the same at her mother's age. She wondered briefly if her hair would get as dark as her mother's, or if her eyes would develop the same charming sparkle. Of course, there were other qualities to admire. Her kindness, charity, the way she seemed to love with her whole heart, but never seemed angered in any way if Jane asked a silly question or did something totally stupid. Jane was proud of her mother, and also proud to call her her mother.

Her attention turned back to her mother as a lesson in dance was begun. She watched her mother's feet in avid concentration; brows knitted, lips pursed-- A very serious expression for someone so small and young. When Eleanor was through, Jane thought about the steps for a moment. "Oh! It's like making a square with your feet!" She looked up and smiled for a second and then back down at her feet. However, when she replicated the steps, she did the reverse--the leading participant's steps. Jane looked up expectantly, hoping to get a reaction from her mother.

Eleanor picked up the dull tone in Jane's response to Mrs Norris' bringing her baby; her heart twinged. It was plain that her daughter was aching for some companionship -- not only that of her nanny, brother, mother, et cetera, but someone her own age. A playmate. Eleanor's mind immediately hopped to find some way to correct this, for she knew all too well from experience that pathetic feeling one gets when one has hardly any deep friendships. She still wondered sometimes what her old friends from the village were doing... if they had married as well as she. And if she had stayed, if they would still be her friends.

Perhaps a day out would help. And not with Nanny. There was a tea shop in town, wasn't there? Although they might cause stir some talk... but never mind. "Jane, before all our guests arrive, how would you like to go to the tea shop in Langley?" she offered, looking at her daughter in hope. Even if she couldn't immediately find friends for her, Eleanor could at least break up the monotony in both their days.

She stepped aside to watch Jane repeat the steps. How serious her face was! Eleanor only had seen that expression before, once when she peeked in on the children during their studies. Now add one parts bright laughter and two parts witty conversation, with a dash of sparkling romance to those steps. You'll have yourself a suitor in no time. A jolt went through her arms just at the picture of Jane, her hair pinned up, a woman. That was so far off, yet seemed so close now, just by watching her attempts at waltzing.

Yet Jane had a little more studying to do if she wanted to dance with a man. Eleanor came closer. "Hmmm... you're doing quite well -- but there are two parts to the waltz, or any dance. Usually the man -- like your father -- does those steps," she said, nodding to Jane's feet. "And the lady -- that's you -- does the reverse, starting on her right foot." She stood alongside Jane and stepped back on said foot, and continued through with the steps.

Suddenly Eleanor had a much higher appreciation for the childrens' tutor's job!

"Yes, please!" She nodded fervently with an eager smile. At the thought of going to the tea shop, she was delighted. Jane, as it felt to her, hardly ever got as far as the outer edges of the property at either home she had spent time in. She had briefly seen the inner aspects of town on the way to the Manor, and little else. The prospects of actually getting to leave the house and see what all was in town seemed like fun. Of course, she would be on her best behavior when they did go, but just the same she enjoyed the idea. Jane could be delighted in private.

Very slowly, Jane followed, right foot back, left to meet it and then to the side, right to meet left, forward left, step with the right, bring them together. Ah...this was not so difficult. She repeated the same process, a little faster, and then a third time. "Am I doing it right?" she looked up from her feet for a very short second and then went to repeat the step one time more. She did catch on fairly quick to most things. This, at least by the look of it, was not a complex skill to learn. She was fairly certain she had the steps well mastered.

"Is that it, mother? Have I done it?" she asked, a slow grin forming across her face. Jane figured she had it. She seemed rather pleased with herself, having not entirely learned modesty just yet. These dance steps were possibly not as much fun as the spinning she had been doing a short time ago, but they had more social esteem and thus appealed to her.

She hoped she was catching on quick. She knew her tutor often got frustrated with how dense she could be at grasping things sometimes, and Jane least of all wanted her mother to be frustrated. It was certain that the pressure to do everything right the first time around wasn't present here, but Jane did not want to disappoint the woman she adored.

Eleanor was thrilled that her daughter seemed excited over the prospect of venturing out to the village to enjoy the tea shop. She almost suggested bringing Jane's brother along, but decided against it after giving it another thought. As much as she loved her son -- as much as her daughter -- there were occasions where a mother and daughter "day out" was better medicine than could be prescribed by a doctor.

"We haven't been to Langley before have we?" Eleanor mused. "Or at least you haven't yet. Do you want to see anything else while we're in town?" Perhaps if she could indulge her daughter a bit before the ball, Jane wouldn't feel so neglected when a bevy of adult guests flocked to the hall. At least that's what Eleanor hoped.

Jane was dancing again, doing a miniature reproduction of Eleanor's steps beforehand. The sight brought no little amusement to Eleanor, who nodded with a grin echoing Jane's own. She looked so prim and proper, but Eleanor detected a glint of satisfaction in the girl's eyes. But if there was one thing Eleanor knew about Jane, it was that she was never satiated with just half of the lesson. "Yes, you've got the steps. Of course, you have to let the man lead you wherever he goes on the dancefloor. He'll be holding you and spinning the entire time." It had taken Eleanor a bit to get over her fear of crashing into the wall or another couple when the waltz tempo picked up and the room began to swirl like a carousel.

"Do they have books in Langley?" Jane asked walking back to her mother's side. Being the avid reader she was, Jane was tiring of the library here--it seemed to have less lighthearted things in it. And then there were texts in foreign languages Jane didn't know even vaguely! Of course, she didn't think a purchase was an option, but she wanted to sit and read a short children's story, it wouldn't take long, but that's what she wanted.

Then her mother was speaking of the dance steps. "A man?" she giggled. She doubted, being as short as she was, she would be dancing with men. "Is Papa good at dancing?" she wondered aloud. It was her best guess that he had been one of the best dancers of his generation. He was so good at so many things, sales, for one thing. She wondered where he could be right now. And what he might be doing.

Of course, he spent more time with Jane's brother than he did with her, but Jane didn't blame him. At the same time she regretted not knowing him better than she did. He was her father and authority figure. The knowledge pretty much stopped there.

She would make a point to try to know him better. That was that.

"Yes, they do." Eleanor confirmed for Jane. She had been in the town's new bookstore once or twice when they were passing through. She still remembered what she had surreptitiously purchased: a Henry James novel and a small book on the craft of writing. They should have something for Jane, too -- maybe a ... well, Eleanor was shocked that she hadn't a clue what Jane had read -- or wanted to read.

"What has your tutor been having you read lately?" she asked suddenly. Eleanor glanced at Jane with a spark of humor. "Certainly not the A-B-Cs anymore?"

"You must ask him to dance with you when he comes home, and you'll find out." Eleanor replied. She couldn't remember the last time James and she had cranked up the phonograph and twirled around in the ballroom. It suddenly seemed very empty in here, despite Jane's bright face. Perhaps a little music would help. "And if you're doing to practice your dancing until he returns, you must do it to music. Did you listen to any of the phonograph cylinders we have?"