Springtime Pleasures Read Online Free PDF Page A

accentuated the neckline and the sleeves. A ribbon of the same colour had been threaded around the high waistline and the hem had been decorated with swirling florals, embroidered in green silk. “You look as sweet and fresh as a snowdrop,” Emma-Lee had said with a satisfied smile at the final fitting.
    Aunt Dolmore, by contrast, had been anything but satisfied when she had set eyes on Charlie coming down the stairs in the transformed dress. After having demanded an explanation how this transformation had come about, she had informed her niece that so much knowledge of plain sewing was vulgar and did not befit Charlie’s station in life.
    Yet after this unhappy start, the evening had improved in heaps and bounds, as quite a number of the young gentlemen present at Mrs Featheringham’s ball had shown a decided interest in this new addition to the flowers of the London Season. One after the other the gentlemen had been led to Charlie by Mrs Featheringham, that esteemed London hostess who prided herself on the splendour of her balls and the useful connections she made for the advancement of her husband—and who thought she was doing Mrs Dolmore a favour. Therefore a veritable flock of eligible gentlemen had been duly introduced to Charlie and had been obliged to sweep her into round after round of musical gaiety.
    Though Charlie was still undecided whether she approved of being called a flower, she thoroughly enjoyed the dancing. Oh, the dancing! It was so much more exciting, thrilling , than the dancing lessons in the hall of dear, old St. Cuthbert’s, with Mr Bernstone, their music-cum-dancing master, counting the rhythm aloud and trying to steer a horde of giggling girls through the steps of a country dance.
    This , this wonderful ball, was magical by contrast—from the candles blazing from the chandeliers, bedecked with crystals that glittered like icicles, to the sweet sounds of the small orchestra.
    Imagine that! An orchestra playing the music for a ball! It was so much more… refined than Miss Riggs’s efforts on the piano during the dancing lessons at St. Cuthbert’s.
    And best of all: to dance with a gentleman instead of a fellow student! Why, her insides had been all aflutter during the first few dances (even though she had told herself sternly that such silliness was the first step of becoming an utter henwit).
    She had stood up with a respectable number of gentlemen, she thought; most of them fine, dashing fellows. London men looked so different from the men she had met before. Somehow, they shone like ever so many polished pennies. Nicely perfumed pennies at that, which had been a most unexpected discovery.
    Cleanliness at St. Cuthbert’s smelled of soap and beeswax. Here in London, it smelled of flowers and sweetness and dark, exotic scents she couldn’t even name.
    In a word, Charlie was bedazzled. She didn’t even mind that evening that Aunt Dolmore kept insisting on calling her “Charlotte” because in her opinion “Carlotta” sounded far too Italian and hence must be considered vulgar and coarse.
    Indeed, she was so immersed in the wonders of London that the fact that most gentlemen seemed rather… well, short did not bother her in the least. After all, she was used to towering above the rest of the world, even if Aunt Dolmore—rather small and plump herself—considered height a great affliction.
    Another round of dancing ended, and during the confusion following upon the bows and curtsies, Charlie’s partner disappeared. This was not the first time this had happened that evening, which she thought most puzzling—after all, Mr Bernstone had always insisted that the gentleman ought to lead his partner back to her dear mama or some kind of chaperone. But perhaps, Charlie reasoned, Mr Bernstone was a little behind the current fashion. Besides, she did not mind finding herself at the other end of the ballroom, far away from Aunt Dolmore. She could easily make her way back to her aunt, after