Miss Bull-In-A-China-Shop
A Regency Romance Tale
It was every debutante’s dream to be known and remembered in the crush of the London Season. Unfortunately for Adelaide, she was becoming notorious rather than beloved by society.
Adelaide kept her head low and her eyes on the shining marble floor. So far, the girl that the ton had taken to calling “Miss Bull-In-A-China-Shop” instead of Miss Bullingdon hadn’t accidentally walked into anyone, nor had she knocked over a footman carrying a tray of glasses, and she absolutely had not tripped over her own feet only to sprawl across the floor in front of God, the Queen, and everybody else.
Given the month she had had, this was a triumph.
“My dear, you just need to wait a little while. There have not been enough proper scandals this year, that is all. Once someone runs off with someone else’s betrothed, or there is a duel or some such piece of nonsense, you will be forgotten entirely,” Her aunt, Lady Margaret, told her. It was said at a low enough tone that none but the two of them could hear the words, but still, Adelaide shivered. If this was the kind of attention she received for merely humiliating herself via clumsiness, then to draw society’s attention through any other route seemed terrible to wish on anyone.
And yet she did.
She attempted to look up from the floor. There was, after all, so much worth seeing tonight.
Lady Jenkins’ masquerade was in full swing, and most of London seemed to be crammed into the illustrious widow’s home. The musicians had to strain to be heard over the chatter, and the pathways around the dance floor moved at a snail’s pace. It would, Ada thought with a slight smile, probably be quicker to join the dancefloor and whirl around three or four times then exit at whatever point you required than simply walk around it in the usual manner.
But the sheer size of the crowd had its benefits. No one was paying her any attention at all; the mask she wore was a masterful creation. While it left much of her lower face free so that she could laugh and smile as much as she wanted, the upper half was constructed in a way that it hid the lines of her face excellently. It was a glossy blue that appeared to have an inner glow. With the Grecian styled dress, she wore Aunt Margaret had declared her a vision of Classical beauty, and though Ada was not sure about the veracity of that statement, she could admit that it was a beautiful outfit, and she did not shame it.
She sighed. If only she had not made a fool of herself so immediately upon reaching London. If she had at least lasted a month or two, she might have had something to fall back on. But no, she was merely that clumsy girl, Miss “Bull-In-A-China-Shop” Bullingdon, who had fallen flat on her face in front of Queen Charlotte.
“Ah yes,” Aunt Margaret said smugly, “I rather thought he would pick up the dare.”
Ada looked at her aunt with confusion, then followed the older woman’s gaze.
Making his way through the crush of people was a form she recognised, even if the face was obscured behind a mask. Her breath caught in her chest, Lord Alexander Banner. The Banners lived on the estate abutting her uncle’s. She had grown up seeing them at various local events during the summers she spent there.
For a moment, she considered abandoning all pretence at dignity and fleeing. If he did not see her, then she could not humiliate herself in front of him (again). But her gaze travelled across his body, and she gasped, realising what costume he was wearing. A smile grew across her face.
Unbeknownst to her, she appeared so striking that eyes started to be drawn towards her. The crowd quietened and stepped back to give them space. London’s people always appreciated a good show and every actor needs adequate space on the stage to perform.
“Lady Margaret, Miss Adelaide, how lovely to see you both,” He said, giving a bow.
Heart in her mouth, Adelaide curtseyed beside her aunt. “It is lovely to see you, my Lord. I must admit I wondered at my aunt’s insistence that I wear this gown, considering that I had never seen it before in my life. But I see now that there is a plot afoot?” She couldn’t stop smiling, and her speech was breathy with a hint of a giggle.
He laughed a little self consciously and ran the back of his hand over the draped white linen of his toga-like costume. “I thought I was certain you would understand the reference given how often we have spoken about legends and myths. But I now find myself uncommonly relieved, so perhaps I was not as certain as I thought.”
She laughed in concert with him, “Indeed, I understand it completely. I am Ariadne and you are Dionysus.”
He looked down at her with a smile. The golden grapes attached to his laurel leaf crown bounced as he nodded. “I thought it best, after all, Theseus may be the hero of the tale but-”
“He leaves her behind only for Dionysus to find her and fall for her,” she finished. They had spoken at length about the legend only the summer before at a garden party held by her aunt. Her aunt, she now realised as she shot her a look, who had perhaps not been as unaware of the discussion as she had thought.
Lady Margaret had a sunny and smug look wreathing her face as she looked on at the pair. “Well,” Adelaide thought, “No doubts about whether or not she approves, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” he said, before turning to Lady Margaret, “I hope I have your permission to take Miss Adelaide on a turn around the dance floor?”
“Oh yes!” Lady Margaret said, shooing them away with her fan. “Enjoy yourselves, my dears.”
Lord Alexander offered Adelaide his arm, and she happily accepted it. As they walked away in the direction of the dance floor, Adelaide looked over her shoulder and mouthed to her watching Aunt, “Thank you.” Then she turned her attention fully onto the handsome Lord Alexander and the music that swirled around them.
Hello everybody, this short story was originally written for the prompt Bull In A China Shop, for one of Vocal.media’s challenges. I didn’t win, but I still think it’s a cute story, so I wanted to repost it here. I don’t tend to write a massive amount of romance or of Regency era fiction, but when I do they always seem intrinsically linked. I should probably write an essay about the setting of the proper Regency Romance at some point, because heaven knows I have read enough over the years to be an expert.
I’ve written a couple of Regency Romances over the years, but this is probably the most straightforward and the sweetest. Though to be fair that’s not difficult given that the most successful of my other Regency Romances was for an anthology of stories called “Dragons and Heroines” in which the role of the handsome rake is taken by a dragon. That was a fun one to write too! If you fancy reading it, then have a look at it through this affiliate link to Amazon.
Anyway, that’s enough shilling, I unfortunately have to get back to the part of writing I enjoy the least, editing. Good luck to everyone else in this boat, it is cold and full of splinters.
