Free Fourpenny Flyer by Beryl Kingston

be. Like this evening, for example, when his nervousness and fussing had made them terribly late.
    He glanced at his brother as he stepped delicately down from their carriage, brushing an imaginary fleck from the cloth of his blue coat and surveying the road in his calm contained way.
    But in fact John was not as calm as he looked. He had accepted this invitation because he couldn’t find any credible reason for refusing it, and he too had dressed with care, but soberly, of course, in his new blue cloth jacket and his new buff trousers, and a cravat of plain white linen heavily starched and tied with such precision it looked as though it had been ironed to his neck, but despite all his efforts and his quite admirable composure, he was feeling terribly shy.
    But the rout was shriekingly under way and there was nothing for it but to follow Billy into the house where a footman resplendent in green livery and gold braid dazzled them into the ballroom. It was an overpowering place, being decorated in red and green and hung about with bunting, and it was already uncomfortably full of guests, all taking up more room than usual because they were in their best clothes, and making a great deal of noise since that was what was expected of them at a rout. Four great chandeliers blazed like burning bushes above the embroidered muslins and shimmering silks and extraordinary coiffures of the ladies. There was a band on a raised dais playing discordantly but very loudly, and everybody seemed to be rushing from place to place, glass in hand, spilling wine as they ran.
    â€˜Mr Easter, you wretched creature,’ Matilda Honeywood said, scampering towards them with both hands outstretched to catch Billy’s hands and twirl him about. ‘Ideclare we all thought you had reneged upon us. How late you are! Mr Ottenshaw has been here an age, you bad, bad creature, and moping for lack of you.’ And she smiled at him with her eyes and tossed her curls at him and beat him with her fan, which spun him into a state of such happy confusion that he trod backwards onto the feet of an unobtrusive dowager who had the misfortune to be sitting behind him.
    â€˜Oh!’ he said, ‘I am so sorry. I didn’t mean …’
    â€˜Of no consequence,’ the poor lady murmured, trying not to wince. ‘I do assure you.’
    â€˜This is Mr William Easter, Aunt,’ Matilda explained, waving one airy hand by way of introduction. ‘He treads on everybody.’
    â€˜Oh steady on!’ Billy protested. ‘Not everybody, Miss Honeywood.’
    â€˜You’ve trod on me enough times,’ she said dragging him off through the throng. ‘I declare I’m black and blue all over.’
    â€˜Steady on!’ he begged again. ‘I ain’t said how d’ee do to your parents. And anyway how do I know you’re black and blue all over, eh? Tell me that. I don’t see any bruises, upon me soul I don’t.’
    She turned to give him the full benefit of her fine grey eyes, standing so close to him that he could see the little pulse beating at her throat and feel the warmth of her body almost as if he were holding her in his arms. ‘Shame upon you, Mr Easter,’ she teased. ‘Have I to strip to my chemise to show you the harm you do?’ It pleased her to wonder what it would be like to strip to her chemise in front of Billy Easter, for he really was extremely handsome.
    The thought of it made him weak at the knees. ‘Miss Honeywood!’ he said. ‘Matilda!’ But then a gaggle of her friends came bearing down upon them, all talking at once, and the image and the opportunity were lost.
    â€˜This is Miss Lizzie Moffat,’ she said, seizing a tall, skinny girl by the hand and pulling her forward. ‘My dearest, dearest friend. Allow me to present Mr William Easter, Lizzie my darling, and his brother Mr John.’
    â€˜How d’ee do,’ the skinny girl said,