Chapter 13

With the money from his winnings, William was able to buy an entire set of new clothes, including tails and evening wear, for the forthcoming ball. Digby encouraged him to spend lavishly, and they spent the following day in Mayfair, visiting the most fashionable outfitters, where money brought them both finery and attention.

"An excellent cut, sir. We can make a few swift alterations, but it suits you very well," one of the tailors was saying, as William stood on a stool in the centre of the shop, being measured.

He had never worn tails before – he had never had occasion to do so – but he had seen his godfather do so on several occasions and had always dreamed of doing so himself. Now, his opportunity had come, but still he felt somewhat out of place, uncertain of himself, even as he wanted only to appear like all the rest.

"It's a little tight," he said, but the tailor merely waved his hand.

"Far better a little tight, than a gentleman's breaches falling around his ankles during a dance," he replied.

"The tailor's right, William – a little tightness makes all the difference," Digby said.

As in all things, Digby was offering advice. He insisted on accompanying William wherever he went and had himself bought a new set of tails from the outfitter – at William's expense.

"Very well, a little tightness, then," William replied, even as he felt thoroughly uncomfortable in such formal attire.

"Shall I send it to your lodgings?" the tailor asked.

"Yes, send everything there. We need it in time for the Charlton Lodge ball," Digby replied.

The tailor nodded. He seemed impressed, noting down the fact in large letters in his ledger.

"Goodness me, the Charlton Lodge ball. It's very difficult to get an invitation to such an occasion," he said, and Digby smiled.

"It all depends on who you know," he replied.

As they left the shop, William felt curious. He did not know how such occasions worked, and had realized they were not yet in possession of an invitation to the ball, even as they had told Anne they would be there.

"Don't we need to be invited? I don't even know the host," he said, but Digby only smiled and shook his head.

"It's all in hand, William," he replied.

But William was not convinced. Anne had assumed him to be a gentleman with connections– even aristocratic ones. But being the godson of a duke counted for little. He was still a commoner, and despite his winnings, it was not possible to buy one's way into such prestigious circles. The accident of birth was what mattered the most, and a penniless earl was still worth far more than a commoner with a fortune.

"But we don't have an introduction, or anything like that. We don't know anyone. I don't, at least," he persisted.

Digby paused, turning to him, and smiling.

"You worry too much, William. These events are large, and invitations are extended in all different directions. If we arrive with a confident air about us, we'll be made welcome," he said.

"Then we're to go uninvited?" William asked, for he could only imagine what would be the case if they did so and were discovered.

But again, Digby shook his head.

"That's not what I said. We'll have an invitation, even if it doesn't come from the hosts themselves. Fear not, it'll be quite all right," he said, pausing to look into the window of another tailor's shop, where elegant velvet smoking jackets were displayed in the window.

William sighed. He did not share Digby's confidence, but in all things, his new friend and mentor had been right, and William had no reason not to trust him. Besides, it was not the ball William wished to attend – he had little interest in dancing, and the thought of making polite conversation with those attending filled him with dread. The sole object of his thoughts was Anne, and the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to see her again. She had captivated him, and he thought of little else from waking to sleeping.

"She probably won't even remember me," he told himself, as they returned to The Spaniards Arms that evening.

William was curious as to where their invitation would come from, and whether they would even gain entry to the ball, let alone the chance to greet Anne. She would be surrounded by eligible gentlemen – all of them far more eligible than William, at least. He felt torn – wanting desperately to see her, and yet fearing she would reject him.

"Are you all right, William? You've been brooding into your tankard all night. What's the matter? You've discovered a talent at cards, won a small fortune, and have much to look forward to," Digby said, coming to sit next to William at a table in the taproom that evening.

"It's just…well…do you think she remembers me? Lady Anne, I mean," William said.

He had thought of little else but her since the day of their encounter at the market, and again in the yard of the inn. But women like her were introduced to countless others, and surely, she had given him little thought since that moment. Digby smiled.

"I'm sure she does, William. I saw the way she looked at you the other day. It was she who suggested your coming to the ball," he said.

William nodded, but his doubts remained, even as he hoped Digby's words were true. He had wanted so very much to make a good impression, even as he felt uncertain he was capable of doing so. Back in Lancashire, there had been visits to country fairs, picnics by the river, the May Day celebrations, and all the other gatherings and pursuits of country life. William had courted, but there had been nothing serious, and he knew nothing of what it meant to fall in love. And without a father figure, the ways of the world were confusing, though his godfather and Professor Murray had always been kind to him.

"But wasn't she just being polite? Isn't that what women of her rank and class do?" William asked, fearing he had misread the signs, or made an assumption as to Anne's behaviour towards him.

"Nonsense, William. You doubt yourself too much. Haven't I taught you anything about your own abilities?" Digby replied.

William nodded. If it had not been for his new friend and mentor, William would have been a fish out of water. He knew nothing of London and its ways, and he had found the experience of his new life quite overwhelming. But Digby had been his guide in all matters, and William could only feel grateful towards him for his kindness and understanding.

"You've been very good to me," William admitted, and his friend smiled.

"Then trust me, William. I'm sure you've nothing to worry about. She was quite taken with you. I could see it – even if you couldn't," he said, and William nodded.

Digby's words reminded him why he was doing as he was doing. This was all for Anne – or so he told himself. Anne was the reason for William's out of character behaviour – he had gambled, he had fenced, he had spent money lavishly, and all for her, or so it seemed.

Am I to make a fool of myself? he wondered, but there could be no going back now.

The day of the ball was fast approaching, and William had already set forth on the course laid out for him. He had money, fine clothes, and was seen as a gentleman – albeit one with unknown connections. This was his chance, and despite the difficulties, he was determined to prove himself.

"But could anything really come of it? After the ball, I mean. What then? What am I to do then?" William said, for again, he knew nothing of what was expected of him.

But Digby merely smiled and shook his head.

"You're thinking far too much ahead, William. Enjoy the moment – you've got money in your pocket, fine clothes on your back, and the prospect of dancing with a beautiful young lady. What more do you want?" Digby said, and William smiled.

His mentor was right. In that moment, there was nothing else he could want, and despite his misgivings, William felt an overwhelming desire to see Anne again – a desire so strong, it could overcome his reason and make him do things he might later regret…