Miss Landon and Aubranael (Tales of Aylfenhame Book 1) by Charlotte E. English Page B

places—you will laugh to hear it—there is a Master of the Ceremonies . His entire purpose is to manage the awkward business of introducing people to one another! Diverting, is not it?’
    Aubranael raised his brows.
    ‘Well, but in this instance it will most likely be a private ball, and the duty of introductions will fall to the hosts.’
    ‘What will be a private ball?’
    ‘Why, the ball that is to be held in our honour! It is quite the obvious thing; I only wonder I did not think of it before.’
    ‘Is there to be a ball held in our honour? I had not heard of any such thing.’
    ‘Not presently, my dear fellow, but there will be , of course.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘When I have arranged it.’ He smiled and jumped out of his chair. ‘The Adairs will do! Young Mr. Edward has been so very determined to become my most intimate friend; he will do anything I suggest. His parents will be very easily persuaded to throw open the doors of their charming house, and make themselves and their riches the centre of attention for an evening. Oh, yes! It will be perfect. And there, you know, you may request an introduction to any young lady you wish to dance with.’
    Aubranael began to feel excited. ‘Yes! Very good! How long will it take?’ Another thought occurred to him and he added: ‘Dancing? What manner of dancing?’
    Grunewald grinned at him and began to dance on the spot, bouncing on his toes and kicking his feet and turning in tiny circles. ‘Awfully complicated, I’m afraid, but since it must take at least a week for a ball to be made ready, you will have some time to practice.’
    Watching Grunewald’s antics, Aubranael felt faint twinges of alarm. He loved to dance, but he had never danced like that before. But he brushed these misgivings aside. ‘No matter. Do, please, arrange it! As quickly as possible!’
    Grunewald laughed and stopped dancing. ‘Very well, I will meet with young Mr. Adair at once. In the meantime, pray follow me to the library.’
    Aubranael followed his friend down a short passage into the small library of their borrowed house, and waited while Grunewald dashed about examining the books. At last he cried, ‘Aha!’ and extracted a slim volume from the shelf.
    He handed this to Aubranael with a brilliant smile and said, ‘Study it most closely! I will be back directly.’
    Grunewald left the library at a trot. Opening the book, Aubranael saw the words “The Art of Dancing” elegantly inscribed on the title page. Leafing through, he found pages and pages of written instructions, sketches of dancing figures and strange charts that made no sense to him whatsoever.
    With a great sigh, he settled himself in the nearest armchair and began to read.
     
    When Grunewald returned, some hours later, Aubranael was still reading. That is, he was still working away at his book. He had read it through fairly quickly, and then progressed to trying out the steps he had read about, and seen sketched upon the page.
    Reproducing the steps of a dance from mere written instructions was more difficult than he had expected; and when Grunewald entered the library to find him dancing about in a space he’d cleared between the chairs, Aubranael found himself heartily laughed at.
    ‘My dear fellow,’ said Grunewald, ‘I do hope you are not intending to dance in that absurd fashion at our ball.’
    Aubranael stopped dancing at once, dropped the book—which he had been awkwardly trying to refer to as he moved—and smiled at Grunewald. ‘I take it, then, that you were successful?’
    ‘Oh yes! The easiest thing in the world.’ He flopped down into a chair and blew out his breath in an exhausted sigh. ‘I hope you are grateful, for I have been obliged to bear a great deal of rather tiresome company.’
    Aubranael shook his head, torn between amusement and chagrin. ‘I may not approach an unmarried young woman without special leave, but you may simply request a ball, and be granted one immediately. What a