Bertie: Waiting for a sign...

By Elizabeth Jayne

Bertie has lived her life by following signs. She had comfort in knowing that whatever her choices through life she would always be on the right path if she followed her signs. But now, when she had the most important decision to make in her life, the signs only sent her into a whirl of confusion. Was it time for her to stop looking for signs and follow her heart instead?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9780987402400

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Chapter 1

Have you ever noticed how life is directed by signs? Bertie has. In fact, she will hardly make a move without first receiving a sign. Her friends think she is crazy; her family have learned to live with her obsession, which is just as well. Bertie has been known to remain home from a party or even a special ball all because she did not receive a sign. Already in her third season, her mother was anxious for Bertie to attract a gentleman’s attention but, unfortunately, Bertie had not received the ‘right sign’ and had disregarded any interest shown to her. But she was adamant that signs were all around and, if one listened and watched for them, it would put one on the right path.

Take this evening’s ball, for instance. She had been uncertain whether to attend, much to her mother’s dismay. She had many dresses she could wear but, naturally, she had to wear the right one this evening if things were going to go along as they should. She had selected two suitable but could not decide which would be best. When Jenny, the maid, brought in some tea for her during the afternoon, Bertie had knocked against the table as she picked up the cup, tripped on the rug and sent tea spilling all over one of the gowns. She had smiled in delight. This was a true sign to let her know that the ice blue gown was the one she should wear. And then there was the matter of a cloak for travelling the short distance to the home where the ball was to be held. She had pleaded with her mother to purchase her a new one as her best evening cloak was getting a bit old and was no longer very suitable for going out. She couldn’t possibly turn up at the ball wearing it. Just that morning, a parcel had arrived from her aunty bearing a cloak that her cousin had outgrown. It had barely been worn and had a soft fur lining that was just perfect. Not to mention it was a deep blue that would go perfectly with her dress! All signs now pointed to Bertie attending the ball.

Her mother sighed with heartfelt thanks that her daughter had agreed to attend because she did not know how she would have encouraged her to go if these so called signs had not appeared. Not that her mother agreed with silly things such as signs. The dress and cloak were both easily explained away by a clumsy accident and the fact that, of course, her cousin would grow out of her clothes, especially as she was such a very tall girl and, as in the past, her hand-me-downs would come to Bertie. It did not take a sign to tell her that! However, anything that had her daughter agreeing to venture out was acceptable to her.

In her ice blue gown and with her deep blue cloak wrapped around her shoulders, Bertie climbed into the carriage with her parents and headed for the ball. It was a beautiful night. Stars were shining brightly and all signs pointed to a pleasant evening for all. The carriage pulled up outside the grand home and she soon found herself entering the very large and elegant ballroom that shimmered from hundreds of candles and lanterns set about the room. Smiling brightly, Bertie walked to her dearest friend, Janette.

Is this not a lovely evening? Bertie greeted warmly. 

Janette smiled. I am pleased you finally agreed to come. I was sure there would be some sign missing at the last minute that would prevent your attendance.

Bertie took no offence at the teasing note and looked about the room. Have you seen any new faces so far?

A few but none that take my fancy. I do believe the Warrington’s are bringing their visiting relatives this evening. I hear his nephew, Mr Stewart Warrington, is quite wealthy and owns several homes across the country. He is on the prowl for a wife this season.

Bertie pulled a face. I am definitely not interested in gentlemen who prowl. Mr Warrington, senior, also has another nephew and one son staying with him at present. I wonder if they will attend?

I expect so. The gossip was that all of his visitors would be attending.

They continued to chat about friends they looked forward to seeing that evening and the number of dances they might be asked to join. Bertie usually found she had many empty spaces on her dance card and had grown used to sitting out half of the evening. She was experienced in schooling her expression into one of disinterest. It would hardly do for everyone to know just how desperately she longed to dance every dance.

A few more friends arrived and they were soon a chattering group of young women, all excited about the evening.

Perhaps tonight will be the night you meet your gentleman, Bertie, one of her friends stated.

The others chuckled. It was widely known amongst her friends that Bertie was looking for just the right man at just the right time and she would know him the moment they met. Heedless of her friends’ comments to the contrary, she knew that a sign would come to show him to her. A look, a word, a breeze at the exact moment he entered the room would be the beginning.

Ladies, look who just entered, said Janette in a lowered voice.

They all turned to look at Vincent Warrington, a tall, elegant gentleman who strode into the room with an air of extreme confidence. He was known to be gentle and thoughtful with the best of manners, but had a tendency to stubbornness when he wanted things a particular way. He had been absent from the area for almost a year but he was easily recognisable for any eligible young woman in search of a husband.

Vincent Warrington did not enjoy attending balls but did so for the sake of his father. Nearing his thirtieth year, it had been made clear to him that he was expected to find a wife and produce an heir within the next twelve months. The wife coming before the heir, of course. There were some familiar faces at this evening’s event, young ladies who had been present for more than one season, many of whom were clearly desperate to claim a husband. It would be relatively easy for him to select one of these for a wife. However, it was also clear that most of them would provide nothing but boredom as the years progressed. He kept his expression civil as he greeted many of the guests and prayed one fresh face would inspire him to courtship and marriage.

He walked around the large room, looking but not actually making eye contact with anyone. As he passed a group of young ladies they curtseyed. All except one who gave the briefest of bobs. She stood quietly inspecting him as he passed, wondering what it was about him that had her friends so mesmerized.

His glance caught hers and he lifted a brow very slightly in enquiry. He was not conceited enough to believe all women should curtsey to him as he passed but it was certainly noticeable when one in a group did not. But Bertie merely gave him one last cursory glance and turned to her friends who had risen from their greetings.

Vincent Warrington continued on but the vision of the dark haired young lady with eyes a shade darker than her gown stayed with him. 

Bertie had lost interest in him the moment he passed by and she scanned the room for signs of anyone special who might be in attendance. Beside her, her friends discussed the son of Mr Warrington and decided they must each dance with him during the evening.

Bertie, are you going to encourage him to dance with you, also? asked Janette.

No, she replied absently.

But, Bertie, he looked directly at you!

Only because I remained standing.

Janette looked at her, somewhat frustrated by her friend’s disinterest. You are the one who always looks for signs so I would say that when a man looks directly at you, and only you, it would be considered a sign of interest.

Bertie glanced at her, surprised that her friend was looking for signs, then turned her eyes towards the man walking away from them. She was thoughtful for a moment but then slowly shook her head. I will not be expecting to see his name on my dance card, she said and turned away to end the conversation.

Much to her surprise, Bertie found herself claimed for several dances during the evening. She had known tonight would be a special night, all signs had pointed towards it, and with so many gentlemen wishing to dance with her she was certain she was about to meet that special someone.

But, as the evening drew on, she had not found anything in any of them that touched her heart in any way. She tried to find a spark of interest but, surprisingly, nothing. She could not believe there was no importance attached to the evening, given the strong signs she had received for her to attend.

Standing by the refreshment table sipping a glass of lemonade she had to accept the fact that while she was meant to attend this ball it was for no further reason than to have an enjoyable social evening. It would not be the first time she had passed such an evening and she must admit she had enjoyed the extra dancing.

Good evening, said a voice beside her. Bertie turned to find herself looking at Vincent Warrington.

Good evening, sir.

I was hoping to have the host introduce us but, as he seems to be absent for the moment, I hope you won’t object to me introducing myself to you uninvited.

A little surprised, she shook her head. She had never been one to stand on ceremony with people, much to the discomfort of her parents.

He continued with a slight bow, I am Vincent Warrington.

Yes, I am aware of who you are, she replied. I am Ber….. Bertrice Harris. She tried hard not to cringe at the utterance of her full name. Nobody called her Bertrice except her grandmother, and even that was on rare occasions, or her mother when she was out of favour.

I am pleased to meet you, Miss Harris. Would you care to join me in this next dance?

Accepting his offered hand, Bertie was led onto the dance floor. From the corner of her eye, she could see her friends watching with amazement. They had tried in vain to secure a dance with him yet Bertie, who did not even wish to dance with him, was the one he had chosen.

The music began and Bertie found her partner to be a very accomplished dancer. He smoothly led her through the steps, their turns neat and precise, his hands firm and guiding, his eyes warm and curious as he looked into hers.

Bertie averted her gaze, focusing instead on the area near his ear and was thankful when the dance steps separated them. He had been far too close and looked at her far too intently. When the dance came to a close she curtseyed, thanked him politely and walked towards her friends.

Bertie! We are burning with jealousy. What was it like dancing in his arms? Janette asked the moment she joined them, all her friends’ eyes upon her waiting for a reply.

He danced very well, Bertie told them.

Did you feel like swooning? breathed Candice dreamily.

I do not swoon and it would take more than a dance with Mr Warrington to bring about such a weakness, she stated firmly.

I think he likes you, Bertie, Janette said. Even now he watches you.

Bertie swung her eyes across the room and saw that Janette spoke the truth. Vincent Warrington stood leaning against the wall, a glass in his hand and his eyes trained on her. He appeared to find something amusing, a small tilt playing at the corners of his mouth, and Bertie felt a flicker of annoyance.

Was he laughing at her? At her friends? With a dismissing look, she turned away from him.

The next set was starting up and her friends left on the arms of gentlemen who had claimed them for this dance. Bertie stood alone as she watched them walk away. This was often the case, although this evening had been different in that she hadn’t stood alone quite as often as usual. Being on her own didn’t mean she should stand out like the proverbial sore thumb, however, and she turned away and walked towards the garden doors. Some fresh air would be nice and nobody would notice if she were outdoors by herself.

She was almost at the doors when Vincent Warrington reached her side.

I can see you are about to enter the garden, Miss Harris. I would be pleased to escort you.

Bertie looked at him curiously. She had just been thinking how nice it would be to have a gentleman wish to walk her around the garden. Now, here he was making such an offer.

Was this a sign? Was this the reason she had been meant to attend this evening?

Vincent, you are not monopolising this young lady’s time, are you? asked a male voice from behind. Bertie turned around and Stewart Warrington introduced himself. I have been attempting to claim you for a dance all evening, Miss Harris. I hope I am not too late?

He was pleasant and his manner amusing and Bertie found she liked him right away.

Miss Harris and I were about to take a stroll around the garden, Vincent interrupted.

Surely Miss Harris would much prefer to dance, Stewart countered. Is that not right, Miss Harris? he asked her, his eyes twinkling.

Bertie could see that there was a silent battle going on between these two gentlemen and was quite amused by it.

However, now she had to make a decision. Walk in the garden with Vincent Warrington, who had seemed to read her thoughts with regards to that activity, or dance with Stewart Warrington who made her feel light and cheerful with his words.

Both options held interest for her but which to choose? She waited. Surely there would be a sign to tell her what to do.

Both men were watching her, each expecting her to accept his offer. The matter was resolved a moment later when another gentleman joined their small group.

Miss Harris, forgive me for my lateness. This dance has almost come to its conclusion but we have time to ready ourselves for the next one. Craig Warrington spoke with such confidence that Bertie could only assume she had forgotten their agreed dance.

Yes, of course, she murmured. Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, she said to the others present and allowed Craig Warrington to lead her to the dance floor.

Vincent and Stewart watched her go with surprise.

What the hell just happened? Vincent blurted.

Our dear cousin just bested us once again. I doubt his name even appears on Miss Harris’ dance card!

If you had not interrupted us, Miss Harris and I would be enjoying a walk in the garden right now, Vincent accused him.

Stewart let out a grunt of amusement. If you had not tried to drag her away, I would be the one dancing with her right now instead of Craig.

Do not feel so confident in that, cousin. Miss Harris was about to choose my company over yours.

You delude yourself, my friend.

Both men looked at each other and then turned their eyes towards the dance floor where their cousin was dancing with Miss Harris. At that moment, Craig Warrington glanced in their direction and the triumphant look on his face was clear for them to see.

I won’t let him get away with this, Vincent said firmly.

Stewart laughed. And what do you expect to do? Remove him from the floor and stand in his place?

Let’s just say that Craig will not have an opportunity to remain in Miss Harris’ company once the dance is over.

Stewart felt a challenge coming on. I hope you don’t expect that she will remain in your company for the remainder of the evening.

Vincent just gave him a smoothly confident smile and walked towards the dance floor, Stewart close on his heels.

Bertie had enjoyed dancing with Craig Warrington. He danced very well and was amusing when the opportunity to speak to each other presented itself. She had to admit that this dance was the most enjoyable of the evening. This was why she had been meant to attend the ball, she was now almost certain. When the dance came to an end, he led her off the dance floor towards the refreshment stand. Their path was blocked by Vincent and Stewart Warrington.

Miss Harris, I do hope you enjoyed the dancing. My cousin here has been known to bruise many a lady’s toes with his clumsy footwork.

Craig looked daringly at Vincent, knowing exactly what he was up to. I can assure you, dear cousin, that Miss Harris has never had a better dance partner.

If you believe so, cousin, Vincent told him pityingly.

Stewart cut in. Miss Harris, I believe this is our dance. Let me show you how a truly proficient dance partner can enhance your experience.

His two cousins threw him a disgusted look and then all three pair of eyes looked directly at her.

Bertie felt completely overwhelmed by the attention. And heartily amused. That the three gentlemen were competing for her was evident but instead of being offended at the game she was enjoying every minute. She would have liked to think at least one of them was truly interested in her, and perhaps she would receive a sign to show her which one deserved her interest, but for now she felt a certain amount of power over whose enjoyment she would spoil or increase for the evening.

She looked at each gentleman in turn. They looked like schoolboys waiting for an expected treat and she fought the laugh that bubbled inside her.

I thank you all for your kind attentions, she began. I did enjoy dancing with both of you gentlemen, she told Vincent and Craig. It would be rude of me not to accept the same offer from your cousin, would it not? she asked sweetly.

Stewart grinned at his cousins and held out his arm for Bertie. They could hardly disagree with the lady and he triumphantly led her to the dance floor while they frowned after him.

Stewart Warrington turned out to be as good a dancer as his cousins and Bertie enjoyed the set. His closeness did not affect her as Vincent’s had and his conversation was not as amusing as Craig’s, but he was sweet and pleasant company and she had liked him from the moment they met. In fact, Bertie found that she liked all three gentlemen equally.

When the dance came to an end, she did not allow him to lead her to his waiting cousins. Instead, she thanked him for the dance and asked him to give her apologies to his cousins but she must return to her friends. He was clearly disappointed but bowed politely and watched her walk away. His cousins joined