It was a ball like any other, the women were dressed with all appropriate elegance and beauty, the confident debutantes in their second season moved around the room like butterflies, assured in their loveliness and in their place in this very opulent society, that they were a treasured commodity.  The older or married women tried less hard to be the centre of attention and sat, or danced when the mood or music took them, rather than with every young beau who looked at them sideways.  The gentleman seeking wives made Murdock a little uncomfortable, he could see the way they looked at the young ladies, assessing them like broodstock, as they fluttered and danced by, as though their suitability for a lifelong commitment could be discerned by the way they laughed or fluttered their lashes.  He supposed he had probably done the same at one time, flattering and sweet-talking Manón - it seemed unseemly now to assess family and wealth before all else.

Murdock wasn’t one for society balls like this, he just wasn't built for them.  He preferred the quiet company of a few close friends, an intimate hunting party, or perhaps a private ball – somehow they felt less mercenary and one could talk with friends, rather than being forced to stand in silence until there was a break in the music.  Indeed the Murdock men were notorious for the insular nature, and Murdock more so than most.  Personality, and then grief had kept him from public life for too long, but his girls were getting older and he could no longer use a wife who had died 8 years before as an excuse to avoid his social obligations.  For him, Manón's death was a slowly fading pain, he would always miss her, but he no longer mourned her and using her death as an excuse seemed an unworthy act.

And tonight, Isobel hadn't taken no as an answer.  Going to events like this was a social obligation for senior ministry officials - show your face, press the flesh, shake a hand, do an obligatory dance, but Isobel had insisted that he make more effort than his usual drive-by.  His younger sister was not satisfied that he was making enough of an effort socially, and as the head of the family, he really ought to make up for the families social shortcomings.

He had been rather lost in his own thoughts, only really half-listening with idle fondness as his sister told him about some issue she had had with her lady's maid. Try as he might, love her as he did, he couldn't make himself care but he smiled and nodded in all the right places.    The band finished it's song and the crowd broke into a smattering of polite applause when another form collided bodily with him. Murdock found his hands stilling in their motion, as his heart kicked up a pace. 

The gangly girl that had stood up beside his sister at his wedding, and with whom he was only mildly acquainted was gone, the girl fresh from school had vanished, transformed like a duckling into the striking woman before him.  It was as though the dim candlelight of the Reaches chapel or the lamplight of Isobels home at Christmas had hidden her true appearance from him for years.  As though the kind, sweet, and funny, if gawky girl he had known all of those years before had been replaced by a woman whose outward beauty reflected her inward grace.  His breath caught in his throat and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.  It was a truly disquieting feeling that caused his stomach to roil. 

Murdock caught his rudeness and reached a hand to steady her, 'Yes! Indeed Miss Allaway' he said 'You are quite forgiven.  Are you well? Would you like some air?' he questioned, not removing his arm, but gesturing to the open door that led to the veranda and the coolness of the fine spring evening beyond.  'My sister wouldn't forgive me if I were to abandon you now.' he added with a smile.  'The night air might do us both good'