Stay close to Edward during the ball

The ballroom was already alive by the time you entered.

Dozens of guests filled the polished floor, their conversations blending with the orchestra as servants moved between them carrying silver trays laden with wine and champagne.

Sir Edward disappeared almost immediately, quickly becoming occupied in conversation with several gentlemen from neighbouring estates.

“So much for trying to be the loyal valet”, you thought.

Left to yourself, you wandered through the room with a glass in hand, exchanging the occasional greeting but finding yourself without much to do.

From across the hall, you caught sight of Lady Charlotte surrounded by several eager young gentlemen. Nathaniel Blackwood seemed the most eager and prominent - talking much louder than the rest.

Near one of the side tables, Martha had gathered a small audience of footmen.

She seemed to be in the middle of some story, judging by the laughter surrounding her.

One of the younger footmen leaned a little closer, clearly trying his luck.

Martha rested a hand lightly against his sleeve, flashed him a mischievous smile, then laughed as she gently pushed him back again - whispering something in his ear.

Whatever she whispered made the poor fellow blush bright red while the others burst into laughter. One of them was probably in for an unforgettable evening you thought to yourself grinning.

She caught sight of you for just a moment.

A knowing grin crossed her face before she turned her attention back to her growing collection of admirers.

You smiled to yourself.

Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be.

After some time, you stepped away from the music and out onto the terrace overlooking the gardens.

The evening air was pleasantly cool.

"You escaped too?"

You turned to find Emily standing in the doorway, two glasses of wine balanced carefully in her hands.

"I thought you were working."

"I was."

She held out one of the glasses.

"But even the maids are allowed a few minutes to breathe and enjoy the ball."

You accepted it with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

"I wasn't sure whether you'd already found better company.”, Emily said with an insecure smile.

“I was beginning to think everyone else had.", you said.

Emily laughed.

"I noticed.", she said, looking in the direction of Martha.

The two of you leaned against the stone balustrade overlooking the gardens.

For a while, you simply listened to the music drifting through the open doors.

"It feels different from out here," Emily said.

"What does?"

"The ballroom."

"When you're inside working, all you notice are empty glasses and people asking where the wine has gone. It’s work."

She took a small sip.

"Standing out here..."

She smiled.

"It almost looks magical. I can see why people who’s never been at one dream of it.”

"You should spend more time enjoying it."

"I intend to."

She glanced sideways at you.

"I've had just enough wine to start believing I deserve to."

You laughed.

"I think that's the purpose of wine."

"It certainly helps."

For a moment she was quiet.

"You know... I'm glad you’re keeping me company."

"You are?"

She nodded.

"I don't always feel like I belong at evenings like this."

"But..."

She shrugged with a shy smile.

"It's easier when you're here."

A comfortable silence followed.

The orchestra inside began a slower piece.

Emily looked towards the ballroom.

"I've never actually danced at one of these."

"You haven't?"

She shook her head.

"Only when nobody was watching."

She hesitated.

"Would you...?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"I mean... would you mind terribly?"

You set your glass aside.

"I'd be honoured."

Emily smiled with obvious relief.

The ballroom was crowded, so instead of joining the centre of the floor, the two of you remained near the edge where there was just enough room.

She placed one hand lightly in yours.

The other rested hesitantly against your shoulder.

"I should warn you," she said with a nervous laugh. "I'm not very good."

"I don't believe you."

"You should."

The first few steps were uncertain.

Emily missed the rhythm once, laughed at herself, and nearly stepped on your foot.

"Oh goodness. I'm so sorry."

"I survived."

"Barely."

She covered her mouth to hide another laugh.

As the music continued, her nerves slowly faded.

Without thinking, she moved a little closer.

Your joined hands relaxed.

Her fingertips no longer felt tense.

"I think..." she said quietly.

"...I'm actually enjoying this."

"I had a feeling you would."

She looked up at you.

"So did I."

For a brief moment neither of you spoke.

The noise of the ballroom seemed to drift into the background as the dance carried the two of you gently across the edge of the floor.

When the music finally came to an end, neither of you stepped away immediately.

Emily realised how close she had drifted and smiled, her cheeks turning pink once more.

With a hand on her hip, she had moved so close you could feel her breathing, her breasts pushed slightly against your chest. The feeling was intoxicating. You could smell her hair and the entire experience made blood flow downwards… to your crotch. Heat rising to your face, realising where this was heading for you, you looked away.

"I suppose I should get back before someone notices I've been missing."

"You probably should."

She gave your hand one last gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Thank you."

"No..."

She smiled warmly.

"Thank you for making tonight feel like more than just another evening of work."

As she turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes flickered downwards and you quickly turned to hide your aroused state. Was she smiling knowingly? It looked like that as she turned and walked away.

With that, Emily disappeared back into the bustle of the ballroom, leaving you smiling as the orchestra began its next piece.

The rest of the evening went fairly undramatically and when a rather drunk Edward asked you to accompany him to his room a few hours after midnight, you accepted and retired as well. Lying in bed you thought about the feelings the dance had awoken in you - also the more physical ones. The memory made you warm and gave that familiar rush of blood between your legs. Before you could decide how to go about it you fell into a deep sleep.