***
At breakfast, Anne hoped the conversation would turn towards the day’s scotched plans so she could introduce her idea, but Mrs. Jenkinson was content to eat in silence. So Anne summoned all her courage and announced that since the rain had passed and the overnight wind had eased, she would go to Fairfax House as she had originally planned. When her companion started a counterpoint, Anne simply told her to arrange for the landau and helped herself to another egg. She tried to hide her quaking as she ate, waiting for Mrs. Jenkinson to object, but she thrilled when the woman sighed and rang the bell to fetch a footman. Anne almost could not believe it. Had she sounded enough like her mother to command such immediate compliance?
There was no question but that Mrs. Jenkinson would accompany her to the dancing lesson. In truth, Anne did not mind her shepherd’s extra attention. The rain held off, but the wind was colder than she had expected. Despite the protection of the landau’s roll-down windows, she felt grateful for the extra blankets Mrs. Jenkinson had arranged to have waiting for them inside. Anne was shivering by the time they arrived at Fairfax House, but a roaring blaze in the front entry’s main fireplace soon had her warmed up.
The sisters chatted and laughed as they escorted their two visitors to the drawing-room. While she sipped a welcome cup of hot tea, Anne trembled with anticipation as she looked at the pianoforte. Music…and dancing! She had heard about balls and assemblies. Dancing seemed like such a pleasant pastime. How wonderful to see it, and to have it explained so she would understand what the sisters were doing.
Some minutes later arrived the man of the hour. Monsieur Saint-Vancomy and his accompanist in life and lessons, Madame Saint-Vancomy, brought with them an agreeable young man introduced as their son. The refugees of the Revolution greeted the two guests with every courtesy. Monsieur and Madame were of a middling age, more stout than lean, although Monsieur had fine legs as befit a man who made his living from their strength, and both dressed in the sophisticated fashion of a France that existed only in their memories. Their foppish elegance seemed a little jarring for so early in the day, but Anne concluded that this must be the appropriate attire for disciples of Terpsichore. Their son, Stephane, preferred simpler and more current English fashion. He flirted in gentle tones with Frances Fairfax, eliciting blushes and giggles from the younger girl.
Monsieur Saint-Vancomy invited the two new ladies to be a part of the lesson if they wished. Both declined. Anne assumed a free lesson would be a wonderful way to encourage more paying students, although she thought he seemed genuinely happy to have them join in.
The lesson began with a review of the previous day’s class. Monsieur stood with Emily and Stephane with Frances, and to a familiar tune played by Madame they walked through an elegant, dignified dance.
Anne was enraptured. She glanced at Mrs. Jenkinson, who smiled and nodded in time to the music. Anne suspected her former governess was recalling social interludes from her youth. With no such memories of her own, Anne studied the moves, the gestures, the steps, the turns. The Fairfax sisters were apt pupils, and they moved through the dance with confidence and delight. How Anne envied them. If only she had the stamina for exercise. She could not imagine how blissful life would be if she could do such things!
The review completed, Monsieur Saint-Vancomy moved on to the next lesson, a more vigorous dance with many hops and skips. Monsieur was all encouragement as the girls mimicked him in his elegant leaps and ornamentations, and at Stephane’s nod of approval both girls smiled and blushed. Anne felt amazed at their ability to keep up with the dance’s demands. She would surely collapse if asked to do so much, and yet her friends skipped across the floor as if it were nothing.
With the moves memorized, they put the dance together to a sparkling accompaniment from Madame, who gave an occasional smiling glance over her shoulder at the students. Emily laughed at a step in the wrong direction, and Monsieur took no offense and sent her back on the right course. Happiness, energy, and music filled the room. More than anything, Anne wanted to experience this congenial activity. She wanted to be able to dance.
After a repeat of the exercise, the students and instructor paused for a rest. Over tea, Mrs. Jenkinson whispered to Anne, “He is a good teacher. How I wish I were younger.”
Emily and Frances joined their guests. “Is he not wonderful?” Emily exclaimed. “Is he not the best teacher ever?”
Frances added in a whisper, “And Stephane!” Her giggle explained her thoughts about the handsome assistant.
Emily asked Anne, “Are you not glad you braved the weather?”
“Oh, yes!” she replied. “This is wonderful. How often do they come to your home?”
“Every day at this same hour,” Emily replied, “except on Sundays. He has two other students he visits later in the day, but I think they only have a class once or twice a week.”
Anne marveled. Every day they did this! If she had the strength to do this even once a month, she would be content. She feared this would be a terrible imposition on her friends, but she found the courage to ask. “Would it be all right if I came tomorrow?”
Frances exclaimed, “Oh, Anne, come every day if you wish! It would be wonderful to have you. Please take lessons with us.”
Emily gave her younger sister a cautioning gaze, which she did not understand.
Anne did understand. Her weakness would never allow her to partake in their delight. But, oh, how she wanted to try this! With her friends, there would be no public embarrassment. “Yes, thank you, I would like to do that.”
Frances expressed her glee, but Emily seemed surprised. “Are you sure you are up to it?”
“I will only know if I try,” Anne replied. Perhaps that was more wish than reality, but she would attempt a lesson if both her friends agreed.
The sisters went to discuss the matter with Monsieur Saint-Vancomy, and Anne noticed Mrs. Jenkinson’s frown. “Are you quite sure?” the companion asked. “You have been so unwell lately. I would regret having you overexert yourself, especially with winter coming on.”
Anne’s doubts began to gather. What was she thinking? …What would her mother say?
She shrank from her bold intentions as a beaming Monsieur Saint-Vancomy approached her. “Mademoiselle, I am most pleased to hear you wish to join with your friends.”
“Well, I thought I would,” she said, doubting herself more and more.
Monsieur said, “You will be a most wonderful addition to our group. I have a second son who is most eager to enter the family profession. You will make him most happy.”
Anne retreated further. “But I do not believe I shall be able to keep up. I have not been in good health.”
He said, “Then we shall start with only the slowest of dances. What experience do you have?”
“…None.”
Monsieur Saint-Vancomy blinked with surprise. “Mademoiselle has never danced?”
She apologized. “As I said, I have not been in good health.” She knew now how terrible this idea had been. She must withdraw immediately.
“Then Mademoiselle has given me a great honor, to allow me to be her first teacher,” he said with a sincere bow.
She closed her eyes. She knew she should say no, but with this she would now disappoint Monsieur as well as her friends. How had she gotten herself into such a predicament? Not knowing how she could do this, she nodded.