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Forward to Time Past	By : UnbridledBrunette Category: > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 3754 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Twelve

When Anne told Buffy that William would be �delighted� to escort her to the ball, it was with the same assumption Buffy herself had: that William was so enamored of her he would be delighted to escort her anywhere. Neither of them could have anticipated his true reaction to the proposal, which could be described at best only as a total and encompassing lack of enthusiasm. This was evidenced quite clearly in the single word he gave as answer to Anne�s gentle broaching of the subject at breakfast that morning.

�No,� he said bluntly.

Anne�s face fell with a poorly concealed look of disappointment. She placed her fork on her plate and leaned forward, turning her full attention on her son.

�No?� she echoed.

�It�s not possible.�

�Why on earth not?�

�Because I am not planning to attend the ball myself,� he answered simply. �Therefore it would be rather difficult for me to escort Miss Summers.�

�Not attending? Of course, you shall attend! You accepted that invitation almost a month ago! Why would you not attend?�

�I have changed my mind is all. Those people that are sure to be invited�David Havisham, Charles Archer, and the rest�they are vulgarians. I would prefer not to associate with such people.� He arranged his face into a carefully contrived expression of haughtiness and for a moment, he looked so silly and pompous that Buffy had to choke into her napkin in order not to laugh.

However, Anne did not seem much amused.

�Vulgarians,� she echoed blankly. �William, what on earth are you talking about? These people you have known since boyhood. We have seen them every Season since you were a little child! They are not vulgarians, they are upper class gentlemen. And you have always been most fond of Cecily��

Buffy looked up from her eggs in time to see William flush guiltily.

�Be that as it may, I don�t wish to acquaint Miss Summers with them,� he answered stiffly. �I have no interest in attending this function at all.�

�But why?�

�I have my reasons!� he insisted stubbornly.

Anne looked most annoyed with him, but Buffy remained serene. In her mind, there was no doubt she could convince him to take her to the ball; she just had to find the right means of persuasion. She knew his weak spots well enough by now.

�It�s all right, Anne,� she said sweetly. �If he doesn�t want to go that�s his decision. I even understand it, to a certain extent.�

His head snapped around to face her.

�You�you do?�

�Of course I do. How embarrassing would it be for you if you walked into a party with me and everyone found out I was your servant. It�s beneath you to take me, I get that.� Buffy shrugged as if this was of little consequence, but William shook his head emphatically.

�M�my servant? No! Miss Elizabeth, I was not insinuating��

�It�s okay. I understand. And don�t worry; I�m not angry about it. You people have a class-based society here; it isn�t your fault. But you have to obey the rules anyway, right? You have been too nice to me already. Technically, I shouldn�t even be at the same table with you, should I? It is not as if we are friends, after all. I�m an employee��

Anne seemed bewildered by this train of thought, but Buffy knew William understood implicitly. He looked stricken.

�Y�y�you don�t understand. It is not that I do not wish to accompany you�but it would not be proper. We would be without a chaperone. It would look��

�It would be a bit unorthodox, I�ll admit,� said Anne soothingly. �Yet I cannot see why anyone should object if the two of you take precautions to keep things quite proper. After all, Cecily did invite Elizabeth; she obviously wishes her to attend. And Elizabeth herself was so excited by the prospect of a night out��

He looked over at Buffy, blue eyes softening behind the glare of his spectacles.

�You want to go so badly, Miss Elizabeth?�

�It would be nice,� she told him. �I�ve been in London a month and the only people I�ve met are the two of you. A party would be�nice. But it�s all right,�

William sighed heavily. He knew when he had been outmatched.

�You�d better ring for Matthew straight away after breakfast,� he told Buffy resignedly. �He can take the card around to Mrs. Ellen when he exercises the horses.�

Anne smiled proudly at him. �There,� she said brightly. �I knew you would see reason.�

But William was not listening to her. Underneath the table, Miss Elizabeth had kicked his shin and when he looked over at her in surprise, she grinned at him. Try as he might, he could not resist the charm of that lovely, happy expression and he smiled back at her.

The loss of the argument was worth it, he thought, just for that.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Buffy could have felt hurt by his reluctance to escort her to the ball. Under normal circumstances, with a normal man, she probably would have felt very hurt by it. When it came to William, however, her ego just would not permit her to believe that the reason he did not wish to go was that he did not want to accompany her. She knew better. It was true that he had accepted his invitation to the ball the moment it arrived, almost a month before (and quite enthusiastically, according to his mother). It was also true that he obviously had some kind of interest in Cecily Underwood�at any rate, he certainly did stare at her a lot when she came to call. Yet Buffy knew whatever he felt for Cecily it did not diminish the attraction he had for her. He still quietly sought her attention and eagerly accepted her company, even when it meant breaking the rules. And it almost always involved breaking the rules.

Not that they had a great deal of time for rule breaking during the following week. Whatever business it was he attended to in the city was suddenly keeping William away from home for large chunks of the day, and Buffy herself was busy getting ready for the ball. This meant hours upon hours spent standing like a statue while Miss Simms poked, prodded and pinned, creating a ball gown of which any woman could be proud�and a testament to the fact that William�s apathy of the ball did not extend to Buffy�s enjoyment of it. It was William, after all, who ordered the dress made.

This dress had started out humbly as an evening gown of midnight blue velvet: pretty enough for a middle-class woman�s Sunday best but not nearly so fashionable as it could have been. The train was far too short, for one thing, and it lacked the lace and frippery that were hallmarks of Victorian style. Buffy had cringed inwardly at the thought of having to face a roomful of elaborately turned-out girls while wearing such a plain gown, but she didn�t think there was anything to be done about it. She couldn�t complain, not when Anne had already gone well out of her way to buy her these few, simple gowns. Yet her discontent must have shown somehow, because two days after the blue dress was finished, Miss Simms showed up on the doorstep again, armed with her sewing kit and an order to trim the dress lavishly and to Miss Summers� specifications�and hang the cost. Ostensibly, Anne commissioned the gown, but according to servants� gossip, the orders were actually at William�s request. He had noticed Miss Elizabeth�s displeasure with her current frock and had prodded his mother into having it changed. Since there was no time to tailor a new dress, Miss Simms was told to alter the existing garment, and as Buffy soon learned, a seamstress with two assistants and unlimited use of the family funds could achieve amazing things in just four days� time. By the day of the ball, she had a frock that looked as though it had just stepped off a 1880s Parisian fashion plate. Delicate, hand-made Irish lace trimmed the flounced shoulders of the bodice and cascaded over the bustle and into a well-lengthened train. The bodice had been adjusted to a wide V-shape, which showed more than a little bit of cleavage and outlined her abdomen in a way that, for the day, was both fashionable and quite daring. Elbow-length kid gloves in light blue were the perfect compliment to the dress, and the matching high-heeled dancing slippers were so pretty Buffy felt she could even overlook the fact that they were devilishly uncomfortable. With some of her monthly wage, she went to a shop and bought a blue heart-shaped stone on a fine gold chain to wear around her neck. It was costume jewelry made of cheap glass, but it matched her dress and kept her from looking so bare in that low-cut neckline.

Naturally, one would want to do justice to such a beautiful outfit and the evening of the ball Buffy took two hours to get ready. Most of this time she spent in arranging her hair because, in a world without electricity, the only way one could curl one�s hair was to heat iron tongs over the fire and painstakingly curl one strand at a time. Since the tongs cooled quickly, Livvy had to reheat them each time she moved on to a different strand, and since Buffy had a lot of hair this meant that the process took quite a while. Yet the result was good, and looking at herself in the glass afterward, Buffy got the oddest sensation. With her hair piled up on her head and wearing that elaborate gown, she held almost no resemblance at all to her previous incarnation as Vampire Slayer. Not only that, but she did not even feel like that person. She was Elizabeth Summers, American lady in Britain, a prim little Victorian archetype. The odd thing was that she liked it. For the first time in years, she was able to shed the burdens of her calling: she was without responsibilities. And damn it, the longer she stayed here the better that felt.

The good feeling was still with her as she descended the staircase some ten minutes later. It was six-thirty in the evening and the Underwood ball would commence in just a half hour�s time. Buffy�s primping had caused her to run a little behindhand and William was already pacing at the bottom landing when she appeared. Beside him, Anne was consulting the small gold watch, which hung from a chain around her neck.

�Elizabeth, you took rather a long time to dress, it�s already half-past the hour. We were wondering what kept you.� Her voice was full of motherly concern and Buffy flashed a reassuring smile.

�I�m sorry. I just wanted to make sure I looked nice�it�s my first party here, after all.�

If she had possessed any doubts about how well she looked, the way William stopped his pacing to stare at her dismissed them immediately. He was watching her fixedly, as if completely unaware of anything else. Had he been any other man the intensity of his gaze would have made her think he was mentally undressing her. Yet in all the time it took her to reach the bottom of the staircase, she never once saw his eyes leave her face. He was not smiling, just staring at her with the strangest expression. If Buffy didn�t know better, she might have called it awe.

�Well, your efforts have certainly paid off,� Anne complimented her. �You look lovely, Elizabeth.� She turned and lightly prodded her son. �Does not Miss Summers look lovely this evening, William?�

He came out of his reverie with a slight jump.

�Oh�yes indeed.� His voice was throaty and so soft it was difficult to hear him. �She looks�that is, Miss Elizabeth, you look�quite stunning.�

�Thank you.� Buffy smiled. �You look very nice also.�

That much was true. He was wearing a suit of dove-grey�a shade that was far too light to be fashionable, but it looked wonderful on him. His waistcoat was almost the same color of dark blue as her dress, embroidered with a gilt thread like stars in a night sky, and his cravat was blue-and-gold striped to match. He had done something with his hair, it looked flatter than usual and he had brushed it out almost completely straight. Buffy didn�t like it as well. Even though the new style was more in keeping with the fads of the day, she missed the tumble of curls that once fell over his forehead. When she made idle mention of this, he immediately put his hands to his hair, combing with his fingers until he had completely eradicated the effect that had taken so long to achieve.

This act simultaneously amused and annoyed his mother, who disliked the untidiness of his standard style but could not help feeling moved by his devotion to Miss Summers. Still, she knew that the spirited young nurse must be curbed if she was to be a success in London society and Anne stifled her smile for a more severe expression.

�Elizabeth, I trust you have been studying on ball etiquette these past few days?�

Buffy, who had done little more than skim over that section of her etiquette guide, nonetheless nodded confidently. �I have it all memorized by heart, Anne. Don�t worry about me.�

Her self-confidence did little to reassure Anne, yet her relaxed back into a smile when she turned to her son. �You�ll see to it Miss Summers gets along all right, William?�

He gave a little nod of assent even as his eyes remained fixed on Buffy. �Of course, I will.�

Despite this promise, and the small smile that followed it, Buffy could detect a hint of worry in those expressive blue eyes. She knew by the way he held his shoulders alone that he was feeling tense about the evening to come, although she could not imagine why. She didn�t like to ask him with Anne standing there; she was so apt to worry about him anyway. But as soon as they stepped out into the cold dooryard, Buffy grasped his coat sleeve in her fist to hold him and whispered, �What�s wrong?�

He turned to her, his face coloring slightly, though whether this was from the question or the touch of her hand she didn�t know. At any rate, he did not seem inclined to discuss what was bothering him.

�Nothing is wrong, I assure you,� he said quietly. �However, it is very cold out and I fear you will take ill if we stand discussing it. The coach is waiting.�

She stifled a sigh at this but nevertheless fell into step beside him as he made his way down the dark walkway to the carriage block. It was then that she received the first in a long series of shocks that evening. William�s bay saddle horse was tacked and waiting beside the coach, its proudly arched neck and fine, slender legs putting the heavier, duller carriage horses to shame. She turned to him questioningly.

�You�re not riding with me?�

He flushed.

�Riding alone in a closed carriage with me would�it would ruin your reputation. I would never do such a thing to a lady.�

�But you can�t ride,� she insisted. �You said it yourself�it�s freezing out here. You�ll get pneumonia riding around on horseback.�

�I will be fine I assure you. The Underwood home is in Mayfair, which is not far from here, and my overcoat is quite warm. Now please�let me help you into the carriage before you catch a chill. You are not dressed so warmly as I.�

Buffy did not much relish the thought of riding to the party alone. As excited as she was to be meeting some new people, she couldn�t help but be nervous as well. And these people were William�s friends; she was sure she would be more at ease to arrive at the party on his arm so that he could introduce her to everyone. The idea of stepping out of the carriage alone while a bunch of people she did not know stared at her was unsettling, and the butterflies in her stomach began flutter in mad fright. She felt a flash of resentment that William would do this to her now.

He saw the sulky expression in an instant, so that once he had helped her situate herself in the coach he did not go to mount his horse as she had expected him to do. Instead, he stood beside the carriage, one hand propped on the open door. �After a bit of a wait, the carriage will pull up at the block in front of the Underwood house,� he explained patiently. �And a footman there will help you to alight. However, I will be there to walk you inside. You will not have to do that on your own. It is merely that they must see that you were not riding with me. Do you understand? I don�t want them to think ill of you.�

�William, I don�t understand why you�re so worried. These people are your friends, right? I mean�� She looked at him curiously. �They are nice people, aren�t they?�

�That is something you must ascertain for yourself.�

This was not exactly an answer to calm her jittery nerves, but William refused to elaborate any further. He turned away from the carriage and went to his mount.

It was odd that as self-conscious as he was on the ground he seemed so poised on horseback. She had never actually seen him ride before, and now she was surprised to find how upright and confident his posture was in the saddle. Buffy peered out the carriage glass, watching with interest as he trotted down the cobbled driveway, keeping well ahead of the coach. When they reached the main road, where it was not so slick, he flicked his crop and the animal took off in a fast canter that quickly became a gallop�a speed that in this icy weather could well get him picked up by the police. He took the turn onto Park Lane so quickly that his horse left the road and had to clear a hedge to keep from going down. He was well out of sight before the coach even reached the corner.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The Underwood�s house was located in Berkeley Square, which by society standards was the cr�me de la cr�me of London neighborhoods. Judging from the huge and ostentatious residences on either side of the Underwood�s huge and ostentatious house, Buffy could see why. If the Hartleys lived in a mansion then this place was almost a palace. Not only was it several hundred square feet larger than the Anne�s house, but it was also far more ornate. To Buffy�s tastes, it seemed almost too ornate, bordering on tacky, but even she had to admit it was impressive. And intimidating.

The carriage pulled between two large stone columns that served as supports for the open wrought-iron gate. There was a short gravel drive, which ended in a cul de sac in front of the house, and a long line of carriages was waiting on that drive to let off passengers at the door. It seemed a long time before Matthew was able to pull up to the block and let Buffy out. When he did, she was almost loath to move. There were so many people milling about that at first she had no idea where she should go. She slowly walked in the direction of the house.

There was a small cluster of men standing on the wide front steps and Buffy had not gone far before she realized that one of the men was William and that he was waiting for her. He had been in conversation with a sandy-haired, mustached man but politely excused himself as soon as she came into view. He hurried down the steps to offer her his arm.

�Well, and what do you think of it?� he asked her quietly.

�I think that if you always ride your horse like that you�ll end up breaking your neck,� she answered. He chuckled good-naturedly.

�I knew there would be a wait here; I wanted to be sure of having the horse up well in time to meet you off the coach.�

�You came in as though you were following the hounds, did you not?� a voice asked beside them. Buffy startled and turned. The mustached man was standing next to them.

William dropped Buffy�s arm.

�I�ah�Miss Summers, this is Charles Archer. Charles, Miss Elizabeth Summers. Miss Summers has recently joined us from America, of course.�

Charles Archer lifted his hat and smiled at Buffy from beneath his bushy mustache. �And a lovelier wild rose from America has never graced our fair city,� he said extravagantly. He lifted an eyebrow and added archly, �And from all I have heard I am sure William agrees with me, don�t you old chap?�

Buffy returned Archer�s smile and murmured an appropriate hello, but she could not help noticing the way William�s eyes narrowed at Archer�s gallantries. Had he been reluctant to attend the ball because he did not want Buffy to meet other men that might show an interest in her? He certainly gave the appearance of being jealous now, and he cut into their conversation with a rudeness that was heretofore unseen in him.

�Yes, well. Although I do hate to make brief our chat, you must excuse us, Charles. I have not yet seen our hosts and I am sure there are plenty of others who wish to meet Miss Summers��

With an apologetic smile at Archer (who seemed more amused than upset) Buffy followed William through the huge oak doors and into the house. �You were very impolite to Mr. Archer.�

William�s lips tightened at this admonishment, but his tone remained level as he answered: �You don�t know the man.�

�No, I don�t. But I know you and you aren�t acting a bit like yourself this evening. What is the matter? Are you afraid people will talk about us for being here without a chaperone?�

�Mother spoke with Mrs. Underwood about the matter and she will act as your guardian this evening if need be. It is all quite acceptable, considering the circumstances.�

�Well, if that�s the case then why are you having such a hard time enjoying��

�The man is a guttersnipe,� he cut in shortly. �And I should think you would not wish to make acquaintance with such people. I�m sure I don�t.�

Buffy smothered her smile of amusement at this. She suspected his dislike for Archer was nothing more than a boyish show of jealously and she wondered if she should call him on it. Before she could make up her mind, however, she found herself distracted by the extreme opulence of their surroundings. The foyer of Underwood house was so large the upstairs of the Revello Drive home could easily have fit inside and so lavishly decorated, she felt as though she had taken a wrong turn into Buckingham Palace. There was an enormous crystal chandelier suspended above their heads, the light of each ivory-colored candle reflected and refracted in the sparkling clear crystal. Rich wood trim work gleamed from ceiling and floors, and the walls were covered in deep red wallpaper scrolled with gold leaf. It was all so pretty that Buffy didn�t realize she had stopped walking to look around until William took her by the elbow and drew her to one side to prevent her from being trampled by a crowd of new arrivals.

�I�m sorry,� she whispered as they made their way through the congested entryway. �I got distracted, I guess. This is a gorgeous house.�

�It is rather nice,� he admitted. �And the ballroom is beautiful beyond compare. Yet I think I prefer the simplicity of our home.�

�So do I,� she told him, and he smiled.

After a quick visit to the ladies dressing room to remove her cloak and check her hair, Buffy joined William in what was known as the �receiving line� upstairs. The ballroom was on third floor and they must wait in that seemingly endless line in order to greet their hosts. Meanwhile servants were circulating within the group, carrying silver trays. Buffy thought they must have hors d'oeuvres and she reached forward eagerly when one man extended his tray to her. To her disappointment, he was not carrying food after all, but small cards bound together with little silver-topped pencils. Buffy took one confusedly.

�What are they?� she whispered to William. She was embarrassed having to ask, but he did not seem too surprised by her ignorance, nor was he condescending when he explained the rather complicated system of �dance cards.� Evidently, the cards listed the names of the dances and next to each, a blank space. If a gentleman wanted to dance with a lady, he must first obtain her permission and then write his name in the space beside the desired dance on her card. It was in this way that a lady kept track of whom each dance had been promised to that evening.

Buffy was still marveling at this strange practice as they moved to the front of the line. Ellen and Cecily Underwood were standing just inside the doorway of the ballroom, their hands extended graciously to the ever-moving line of guests. William murmured an abbreviated hello to each of them and Buffy, after a slight pause, did the same. After this, they were free to do as they liked�within reason, of course�until the dancing commenced.

Now was the time when the guests greeted each other and chatted, as the gentlemen began to fill the women's dance cards. William introduced Buffy to so many people she did not even bother trying to remember all their names. It didn�t matter anyway; most of them did not stay to talk very long, although a few of the men did commandeer some of the dances on Buffy�s program. She noticed that each time this happened the muscles in William�s jaw seemed to contract just a little bit more, though it was not until they had a few minutes alone that he said anything about it.

�I am not a skilled dancer.�

Buffy had been admiring the elaborately dressed musicians that sat in a small group off to one side of the room, and at first, she did not hear him. When he repeated himself, she was not sure what to think of the comment.

�I�m sure you�re fine,� she said. �I�m the one who should be worried�this is my first ball�or, um, my first British ball, anyway. I�ll probably make an idiot of myself somehow.�

William ignored her interruption as though he never heard it at all. �What I mean to say,� he continued doggedly, �is that you�you might not wish to dance with someone as inept as myself. However�if you could overlook my awkwardness�perhaps��

Suddenly realizing what he was getting at, Buffy extended the dance card to him.

�Which ones do you want?� she asked with a smile. �Fill them in. I�ve been cooped up so long I am ready to dance every dance�and if all of them are with you then even better.�

His hand trembled as he took up the pencil and it took him some time to fill in the ones he wanted. Yet when he returned the card to Buffy, she saw that he had not requested more than five of the twenty-four different numbers. She looked at him questioningly and he offered her an apologetic smile.

�Although nothing would give me greater pleasure, it would not be seemly for me to monopolize your company this evening. I�I hope you understand. I hope you aren�t hurt��

Buffy was not hurt. If anything, her smile had widened when she looked up from reading the dance card. Every dance he had requested was a waltz, slow and romantic.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~
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