After the heat and passion of their last interlude, and her confession of love, she hardly knew what to expect tonight. They’d worked together twice since then, but Sebastian had been entirely focused on business, which drove her absolutely mad. So mad, in fact, that she had spent ages debating on what to wear this evening and how her hair should look.
She was never this ridiculous about that sort of thing, but for Sebastian…
Her thoughts and nerves were interrupted by Kitty darting over to her, her eyes twinkling as she grinned at Izzy. “Have you heard all the fuss about the mysterious writer of the Spinster Chronicles guest column?”
“I have,” Izzy replied with a smile, the heat in her cheeks fading. “The praise is effusive, and the curiosity increasing. Everybody wants to know if she will write another, in the hopes that they might more easily guess her identity.”
“I know!” Kitty scooted even closer, nearly squealing in her excitement. “The comments and gossip are everywhere!”
“That would be London,” Izzy pointed out, the girl’s enthusiasm amusing. “And as it is mostly positive comments being said, it is an exciting thing. I can assure you, when all the gossip is the reverse, it is quite dreadful to be in London.”
Kitty pursed her lips, then took Izzy’s hand, leaning close. “Izzy, what if I did write a second article for the Chronicles? I can write up a sample and see if you find it accomplished enough, if you like. I know nothing needs defending, as there hasn’t been another attack, but what if I wrote something else?”
It took a moment for Izzy to find words for such a suggestion, but she covered their joined hands with her free one. “I don’t need proof of your writing, we have that in the Chronicles already. I’ll have to check with the others, but we adored what you wrote last time, so I feel certain they would agree to it. But what would you write upon, Kitty? What topic?”
The girl’s smile would have lit up the entire ballroom all on it own. “Why, the Season, of course, and all it’s exciting wonders and delights.”
Izzy grinned at her. “Charlotte will be thrilled. She might want to write it with you.”
“Oh, Lord,” Kitty laughed, covering her mouth as she giggled.
“Excuse me, Miss Morton, Miss Lambert,” Mr. Andrews suddenly broke in, appearing with a gentle smile. “Miss Morton, if you recollect, I have been promised this dance.”
Kitty smiled at him very shyly. “Of course, Mr. Andrews. Do lead on.”
He did so, nodding at Izzy as they left, and she grinned as she watched them move away and begin the dance. Kitty’s gaze never quite stayed steady on her partner’s, and the color never quite faded from her cheeks, which only enhanced her beauty. She was the very picture of an English miss this evening in a cream and pink sprigged muslin, matching pink rosettes in her dark hair.
She would be attracting many more suitors before the evening was out.
“She looks well, does she not?”
Izzy turned in surprise to see Lieutenant Henshaw coming up beside her, his eyes on Kitty as well, expression unreadable. “She does. But then, she always looks well.”
Henshaw made a soft noise of assent, his mouth curved in a smile. “Particularly when she dances, I’d say. Do you think Morton knows how it enhances her already fair looks? She’ll attract far more suitors dancing than anything else, and he ought to be made aware.”
The mention of Sebastian dried Izzy’s throat, but she managed a weak laugh. “Then I think you had better tell him. Does she dance as well as she appears to?”
“I couldn’t say,” he replied, stiffening slightly.
Izzy frowned at that. “You couldn’t? Why not?”
“I have no experience in such things.”
Now Izzy turned to the tall man beside her, completely incredulous. “You haven’t danced with her? At all?”
He met her gaze almost sheepishly. “I wanted her to be comfortable with me before we danced.”
“Henshaw…”
“I am a large and imposing man,” he overrode with surprising gruffness. “And she is a sweet, timid creature. Despite my association with her brother, she knew nothing of me. I knew no other way to show my respect for her but to respect her comfort.”
Izzy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Henshaw, who danced more than any man she knew, who flattered and flirted and teased as a way of life, who was all decency and goodness, had cared enough about Kitty’s nature to change his own. Not in any great way, or indeed in any manner that would necessarily have been observed, but enough.
She wet her lips carefully, desperate to avoid smiling at the moment. “Have you asked her?”
Henshaw returned his focus to the dance. “No…”
Now Izzy had to let one side of her mouth curve just a little. “She might have said yes.”
He nodded once. “She might. But would she have been able to look at me when she did so?”
It was the sweetest, most considerate thing she had ever heard, and her heart swelled at hearing such a statement. “Henshaw, I think you might be the sweetest man ever born,” she told him without hesitation, putting a hand on his arm.
He looked down at her with a wry smile, though he was clearly pleased. He covered her hand with his own. “Don’t tell my superiors, Miss Lambert. Sweet officers never get promoted.”
She chuckled and nodded, turning back to look at the dance, then stiffening when her eyes clashed with Sebastian’s across the room.
He stared at her with the same intensity she felt racing through her body at the moment. He was pristine in his eveningwear, looking almost dangerous as he gazed at her, the color of his eyes vague from this distance, but the power clear.
She wondered if her gown had actually caught fire under such heat, especially given how her skin seemed to burn all the way to the tips of her hair. Between the shade of her dress and that of her hair, she might resemble a flame and feel the effects of such.
Henshaw caught the battle and slid his hand from her arm. “I’m going to leave you, Miss Lambert,” he murmured, for once not sounding teasing about something of this nature. “In the hopes that it may preserve us both.”
She nodded unsteadily, her hand hanging in the air, the effort of returning it to her own hold too great. “Dance with Kitty, Henshaw,” she murmured, her eyes still on Sebastian. “You’ve earned it.”
His answer was lost amidst the buzzing currently filling her ears.
Sebastian.
They stood, locked in each other’s gaze, unmoving even as the room about them swirled and danced and chatted. She needed to go to him. She needed him to come to her. She needed something to happen, anything to break this breathless, writhing tension filling the air between them.
“Izzy!”
She blinked with a gasp and turned, half-blinded towards the voice. “Yes?”
The haze of her vision cleared, and she managed a weak smile at Miranda, who seemed rather determined in her approach. “Miranda! How delightful.”
Miranda’s mouth curved into her usual smile. “Indeed, everyone says so, yet I never know quite who to believe.”
“I think you may safely believe me,” Izzy assured her, glancing back towards Sebastian, only to find that he was no longer standing there. A sharp pang of disappointment hit her, but she returned her attention to Miranda, covering the ache with a smile.
“Of course, dear, of course.”
Miranda said nothing else, looking out at the dance with some speculation.
Izzy waited patiently for a moment, or would-be patiently, as it happened, then sighed as kindly as she could. “Miranda, is there something I can do for you?”
“What would you say to a potential match for Kitty Morton?” Miranda said without preamble, eyes narrowing slightly.
“A match?” Izzy repeated. She watched Kitty, still dancing with Mr. Andrews, then looked back at Miranda. “With whom?”
Miranda sputtered a little and waved her hand. “Why, Andrews, of course. Look at t
he pair of them.”
Izzy did look, and while they would have made a striking couple in appearance, there was nothing at all in their behavior while dancing that would have lent itself to speculation or flirtation. Kitty’s cheeks were faintly colored, and Andrews wore a very small smile, but nothing that had not been seen before with other partners.
“He would make her a fine husband,” Miranda said with satisfaction. “And it would be such a favorable match. Morton would undoubtedly be pleased by it, and Society would be so drawn to them. She would be so popular!”
The thought made Izzy blanch, and her throat dried in an instant. Swallowing with difficulty, she glanced at Miranda with a hesitant smile. “You forget, I think, that Kitty is shy, Miranda. She would hate to be popular, or to be the center of any particular attention at all. Why, the fact that she is even dancing with Andrews is…”
“Yes, yes, Izzy,” Miranda overrode impatiently. “We shall ensure it is a very subtle sort of popular. Nothing overwhelming or distressing, I assure you. I am not so scheming as to abuse my sweet friend’s nature so. I only intend the best, and I daresay Andrews might be it.”
Izzy hesitated, biting her lip. “I think,” she said slowly, “there might be someone else to whom Andrews might be drawn. And, perhaps, someone else who might suit Kitty better.”
Miranda seemed to consider that. “Perhaps… perhaps, indeed. I shall think on it. I stand by Andrews as an ideal, but there is no need for haste.” She tapped her fan against her lips, humming to herself, then swept away.
Izzy watched her go, shaking her head in bemusement. Miranda was truly a wonder in so many ways.
“Izzy!”
“Oh, Lord, now what?” Izzy muttered under her breath, turning yet again.
Georgie was suddenly there, eyes wide. “You’ll never guess. Tony’s just come to tell me. Alice Sterling has been nearly compromised.”
“What?” Izzy gasped, gripping her cousin’s arms.
“They’ve only just retrieved her,” Georgie rushed on with a nod, wringing her hands together. “She was with that Delaney fellow, thought he was in love with her and that he would propose in the orangery, but instead . . .”
A shudder coursed over them both, and Izzy felt tears rising. “What can I do?”
Georgie shook her head. “Nothing, they’ve got her and are going home. Tony and Morton are going with them, and they’ll see them right. Tony said he’s never seen Hugh look so distraught and enraged. He truly had no idea that…”
“Iz…”
Izzy froze, looking behind Georgie, heart pounding in a way it had not done all night. Georgie was quick to move away, but Izzy barely noticed.
Sebastian stood there, hands rubbing together, his expression open, tension in his frame. “May I… call on you soon?”
Her heart swelled, pounding more profoundly now. “Yes,” she whispered with a nod. “Yes, please do.”
He almost smiled as he returned her nod, then turned around, heading back to the corridor beyond.
“Well, well,” Georgie mused behind her, sounding less distressed now. “I wonder what that could be about.”
Izzy ignored her, watching Sebastian go, barely restraining a sigh.
Soon, Izzy thought with delight. Soon, my love.
She turned back to Georgie, clearing her throat. “We need to tell the others about Alice. She needs our support. Come on.”
Georgie smiled all too knowingly. “Indeed. Lead the way.”
It was all Sebastian could do avoid whistling as he strode along the streets of Mayfair.
He’d decided against taking his carriage home from his solicitor’s office in favor of walking, as the day was so fine, and he was in a well enough mood to do so without complaint.
After days of details and meetings, poring over reports, and driving himself into a sort of anxiety he had never quite experienced before, not even as a soldier, he finally had resolution, and a decision. Finally, he could move forward, and could do so with confidence. No need for anxiety, no more problems to solve, and nothing at all to cloud his mind.
All that was left was to do it.
Perhaps there was some anxiety needed.
But only a little.
He grinned to himself as he strolled down the street, nodding and smiling politely at passing people, though he didn’t think he’d be able to recall just who he had seen. His mind was too occupied with other thoughts to recollect such minor details.
What a change he’d undergone of late! He hardly recognized himself, truth be told, and yet he was quite sure that he had never been more himself than he was now.
Izzy had done that for him. She made him worry less and live more. She made him a better brother to his sister, and he’d never found himself lacking before. She made him better in every respect.
Which was why he would now go to her father and ask permission to marry her.
Or should he ask Izzy first and then go to her father?
He’d never actually asked anyone about the specifics or the order in which things should occur.
Given that he and Izzy hadn’t formally entered into a courtship, he supposed he ought to do that first. He’d tell Izzy what his plan was, of course, and see if she agreed to a very quick courtship so they might have a very quick engagement, but he thought she might be in favor of such things.
He had to tell her that he loved her. Had to make sure she was in no doubt of his affection and his respect. She had to know what she did to him, how she had changed him in so many ways, and how complete his life had felt with her in it.
How did a man say such things without sounding like a complete lunatic? He’d never had a way with words, and this seemed a rather lofty occasion to start an exercise in improvement.
Surely, she could not be surprised by what he would say. He’d nearly said something the other night before he’d rushed off to help secure Alice Sterling, and then, in the heat of such a harrowing moment, he’d barely been able to refrain from hauling Izzy into his arms for safekeeping. Some semblance of gentlemanly behavior clearly remained in him, as he’d stood there and politely asked if he could call on her…
He’d been a hair’s breadth away from dropping to his knees and proposing, but he hadn’t.
Still a gentleman, then.
What a relief.
But poor Alice Sterling… Lord, he’d been terrified on Lord Sterling’s behalf. Their sisters were of an age, and it was too unnerving to imagine Kitty in the same situation. She needed to be far better protected than Alice had been, if such cads were able to sway young ladies so easily.
Surely Izzy would have some ideas there.
He was suddenly jostled by an eager young man dashing off somewhere, and Sebastian turned to look after him, more amused than irritated. What in the world would have prompted someone in Mayfair to act so?
He watched as the young man gathered with several others, a familiar newssheet in all their hands.
Ah. That was undoubtedly the cause.
The Spinster Chronicles must have released a new edition today. A rather good one, if the frenzy was any indication.
That was not surprising, as there was always something worth reading in the Chronicles, even if the Society Dabbler struck a little too honest a chord at times. He suspected those were the times when Charlotte had written them. Personally, the Quotes and Quirks segment had always been a favorite of his, no matter who had written it.
The enthusiastic rage around their recent guest columnist had not abated in the slightest. In fact, if anything, the anticipation for subsequent issues of the Chronicles had only increased. It seemed that all of London, if not England as a whole, was trying to ferret out the new writer, wondering if she would be a permanent fixture amongst the group, or if bringing in guest writers would now become tradition.
Sebastian hadn’t told anyone, but even he had begun to grow curious about the mystery writer. He’d eventually read her article and found it to be a sound defense in a resp
ectable manner, and not even Hugh Sterling would have been able to find fault with it, which was undoubtedly why no further attacks had ensued. Unaware as to who might have had such a command of language and tone that was not already writing for the Spinsters, he had very few believable suspicions as to the identity.
It was an amusing spectacle, this delirium over a column written by spinsters when most of these people could not decide if they approved or disapproved of them.
Such was London Society, he supposed.
He shook his head, smirking to himself as he turned to continue on his way.
Well, the Spinsters with a capital S would be short one spinster with a lowercase s soon enough, if he had his way.
What would they call their column if they all married?
Not that such a thing was of legitimate concern. He highly doubted that Charlotte would ever settle on a suitor, and Elinor would likely never even have one, given her aversion to the male population as a whole.
Again, he was jostled by someone passing him, and this time he was less amused and more irritated.
“Pardon me, sir,” he snapped, scowling after him.
Tony turned around, expression apologetic, then he grinned freely. “Oh, it’s you, Morton! Perfect.”
Sebastian raised a brow at his friend. “What? Because it is me, you are exempt from offering apology for crashing into me?”
“Something like that.” Tony shrugged, still smiling broadly. “Didn’t see you, to be honest. The streets are mad today.”
“They are indeed,” Sebastian remarked, gesturing down the way. “Clearly, the new issue of the Spinster Chronicles is doing well.”
Tony’s smile shifted to one of disbelief. “You haven’t read it?”
Sebastian shook his head, folding his arms. “Not yet, no. I may wait a day or two until the madness fades.”
“I doubt it will do so that quickly,” Tony replied, his tone rather peculiar.
“Oh?”
Tony’s mouth twisted as though he were considering something, then he stepped closer, his eyes darting around. “Morton, may I ask you a rather impertinent question?”
Frowning, Sebastian gestured for him to do so with a quick nod.
Spinster and Spice (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 3) Page 26