When the music began to play, Lea had to sneak a glance at the orchestra, stifling a smile for the woman who was no doubt playing the mandolin.
A country dance, really?
The machinist’s partner, a nobleman, hesitated. Nearby, she could see that a girl and her own partner were equally baffled. There was a gleam of interest in the girl’s eye that had Lea playfully dismissing the nobleman before weaving her way through the crowd.
“Hey, honey,” Lea greeted. “Think you could spare me a dance?”
This was probably the strangest ball Juliette had ever attended. This music was utterly bewildering, and this was now the second woman in the span of one evening to ask her to dance. The people who were already lining up on the floor all looked unfamiliar, too, and she didn’t think it was only the masks. They seemed quite at ease with the music, but she could not quite reason out how they were lining up -- the partnered pairs, facing each other in lines, seemed to be formed of men and women in quite random combinations.
She didn’t have a chance to answer before her partner -- Lord Earon’s third son, dull but unfailingly polite with where he placed his hands, at least -- murmured some kind of excuse and escaped, clearly unwilling to show his lack of competence with this strange method of dancing. It appeared the decision had been made without her input; still, she felt the need to point out, “I am afraid I am not schooled in these steps,” lest this woman assume she might have the faintest idea what she was doing only to be disappointed.
“That’s the point!” Azalea held out her hand. And even this small gesture was done with a grace that made evident her former class. “Thought I might teach you.”
“In which case, I cannot but agree.” Juliette placed her hand in the woman’s hoped she would not make quite so much a fool of herself as she had with Lady Cassul. “I thank you in advance for your patience.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Love teaching, sometimes do it for a living,” the woman said, leading Juliette into the lines. “I’m Lea, by the way. And you?”
“Juliette. A pleasure to meet you.” At least this time, it seemed she would not be insulting a noblewoman by treading on her feet. She copied the young woman next to her in the line, stopping across from Lea and holding out her right hand as the next eight-count began.
“Pleasure’s mine, Juliette.” Lea grinned with approval at the beginning stance. “Perfect, honey. And now, we do this…”