The dancers spun and crossed in the intricate patterns of a dance as Athena watched. Through a break in the line of dancers, she thought she saw a face. A very familiar face. Athena’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, but the dancers shifted and closed the gap again, and she could not be sure.
Athena moved slightly in her chair, searching. Surely she would have known if Harry had returned to London. She must have been mistaken. And yet the gentleman she’d seen looked so very much like him.
She attempted to appear nonchalant as she frantically studied each face across the room every time the dancers afforded her a glimpse.
There again! She was nearly certain it was him after all. Athena pressed a hand to her throat where her heart was pounding a frantic rhythm. Harry had come back! Would he come and speak to her? Did he wish to even see her? Had she realized her own heart too late?
The orchestra played out the last bars of the current dance, and the participants applauded appropriately. Only a moment and the next set would begin. With whom would Harry dance? Would he dance at all? Would she be able to steal a glimpse of him once more?
Athena wasn’t even sure where he’d gone, she’d lost sight of him.
“Miss Lancaster.”
Athena looked quickly in Mr. Howard’s direction as his voice interrupted her search.
“Mr. Howard,” she replied politely, if a little rushed.
Mr. Howard began talking, probably about trees. Athena’s eyes had returned to the crowd. In an instant she saw him. He was still across the room but drawing closer. Their eyes met, and Athena could feel her heart pounding harder in her chest. She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and he didn’t look away.
As she watched Harry draw nearer, their eyes locked. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t look upset, either. What was he thinking? Was he happy to see her?
Please let him be happy about it, she silently pleaded.
“Miss Lancaster?” Mr. Howard’s voice broke into her thoughts.
She spared him only the briefest of glances, just long enough to register that he was watching her in obvious expectation, though she wasn’t sure of what. Her eyes had already returned to Harry, now only a few steps away.
Harry’s eyes hadn’t left her. Athena was very nearly certain her heart had sped to twice its normal pulse. Every inch of her seemed to have begun trembling.
A smile spread across Harry’s face, and Athena felt the telling blush that spread across her cheeks and down her neck. Harry’s smile! She smiled in return but felt unaccountably nervous, almost as if she’d suddenly become very shy in his presence.
“Miss Lancaster?” Mr. Howard’s attempts to gain her attention had grown more urgent.
But Harry was at her side, and Athena could not look away. Please love me, she silently begged. What would she do if she had lost him already?
“Mr. Howard,” Harry said to Athena’s eager, if ignored, conversational partner.
“Mr. Windover.”
“Forgive me for being rude, but I do believe this dance has been promised to me,” Harry said.
Athena wasn’t sure if Mr. Howard replied, the pounding of her heart having deafened her. Harry held his hand out to her and smiled. Athena placed her hand in his, an amazing sensation of tingling and awareness spreading up her arm in waves and pulses.
The phenomenon continued throughout the dance. Every time the steps required their hands to touch, she tingled at the contact. Neither of them spoke a word. Their eyes met at every opportunity, and his smile, different from the laughing smiles he so often produced, always greeted her when the movements of the dance brought them back together. That smile made her blush all over again.
It was her dream come to life: a meeting of eyes across a ballroom, a pounding heart, an undeniable awareness. All that time it was Harry! How had she missed it?
Her heart and mind in a jumble of emotions, Athena was returned to her seat as the dance ended. Persephone and Adam were in the midst of a conversation and did not acknowledge Harry and Athena’s return.
Harry bowed quite formally, smiled, and walked away.
Athena watched him go, confused. He had not actually spoken to her, not so much as a word. She longed to call him back but was afraid that her plea would be met with rejection. Had he danced with her out of obligation? No. She could not believe that. Then why, she asked herself, had he left?
“Are you all right, Athena?” Persephone asked. “You look a little pale.”
“I think I will just take a moment in the withdrawing room,” Athena said, rising a little shakily.
“Would you like me to come with you?” Persephone offered.
“No,” Athena insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
She moved swiftly but as inconspicuously as possible from the ballroom. She did not wish to draw attention but very much feared if she did not escape quickly, the tears would fall before she was away. She knew that crying at a ball was not permitted.
* * *
Harry saw Athena slip out of the ballroom. He moved quickly. Intercepting her without being seen was going to be difficult, but he absolutely had to. There was too much that needed to be said. And he needed to hold her, if she would let him. He needed the comfort of her in his arms. That need had nearly undone him as they’d danced. It was not at all the done thing to embrace one’s partner in the middle of a ballroom in the midst of a dance. But he had been very sorely tempted.
Athena was moving quickly, but Harry had the advantage of familiarity; he had attended many balls and musicales at the Techneys’ home. The hallway was deserted—a happy circumstance, as he had no desire to attempt to circumvent a crowd.
Harry reached her from behind just as she passed the doorway to a small sewing room, one not being used as part of the ball. Harry quickly took hold of her hand and pulled her inside. He felt Athena stiffen and immediately begin pulling away.
“Athena,” he whispered, pulling her close enough for her to hear him.
“Harry,” she answered, turning to look at him, eyes wide, voice full of surprise. “I—”
He laid a finger on her lips, stopping her words as he closed the door to the room. It was a potentially compromising situation, but there were some things he needed to say to her, and an audience would be most unwelcome.
Talking was what he ought to have been doing, but touching her lips was proving very distracting. Harry’s eyes traced every inch of her beloved face—her brilliant green eyes, the tiny bewitching mouth, the dimple he knew would appear if only she would smile.
“You came back,” Athena said, Harry’s hand having traveled away from her lips to stroke a perfect gold ringlet framing her face.
He was having a very difficult time breathing. He was touching her. Touching Athena. And not in a very brotherly way. He had never once held Jane’s hair between his fingers or brushed his hand along her cheek.
“I was so afraid you wouldn’t,” Athena continued. “And then I saw you, and I was afraid you wouldn’t come talk to me. And you didn’t. Talk, that is. And I thought—”
“Athena,” Harry said again, still a whisper, his eyes memorizing her features.
“Harry?” Her voice broke a little, her tone uncertain.
“Athena.” His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it. He was holding her face in his hands, as he’d dreamed of doing so many times.
Harry closed his eyes, forcing several long, deep breaths. Stepping away from her would have been best, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Harry, are you angry with me?”
“Angry with you?” His shock pulled Harry’s eyes open.
“You wouldn’t even talk to me,” she said, moisture pooling in her eyes. “In the ballroom. You just left. I know I was curt with you the last time I saw you, but—”
“Oh, Athena.” He shook his head, a smile inching its way across his face. “You had every right to be curt with me—angry, even. I should have been more honest with you. You had a
right to know why I introduced you to the gentlemen I did.”
Athena looked away from him, a tear slipping from her eyes as she did. Harry knew in an instant she’d imagined some horrid motivation behind what he’d done.
“Athena, darling,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms, hoping to give as much comfort as he knew he would receive from the embrace. Harry wasn’t entirely sure his heart could speed up any more than it did in that moment without bringing on his rather premature demise. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so duplicitous, but I simply couldn’t bear the idea of finding you a husband.”
“Why not?” she asked, her head resting against his chest.
It was confession time. If Persephone had been mistaken and Athena was not, in fact, in love with him, Harry’s next words might very well signal the end of all his hopes. He could not, however, deny the fact that she had not uttered a single objection as he’d touched her hair, caressed her face, or held her to him.
“Because I wanted you myself,” Harry admitted on a whisper. “I have loved you almost from the first time I met you, Athena. And if I did not have a chance to win you, I at least wanted you to recognize the sort of gentlemen who could never make you happy.”
“You wanted me to be happy?” she looked up at him, and Harry was certain he saw hope in her eyes.
“That is all I have ever wanted.”
“Then why did you not court me yourself?”
“Adam expressly forbade any fortune hunters from soliciting your hand,” Harry answered.
Athena cut him off before he could continue. “But you are not a fortune hunter. Mr. Rigby was a fortune hunter. You could never be so cruel and unfeeling and inherently dishonest.”
Harry felt his smile spread wider. “Adam told me essentially the same thing.” Harry locked his hands together behind Athena, relishing the warmth of her so close to him. “Although he used words I would not dare repeat in front of a lady.”
“Then Adam approves?” She smiled, though the dimple was not yet evident.
“I think Adam would condone and assist a kidnapping and elopement if he thought I would go along with the idea.”
The slightest hint of a blush suddenly appeared on Athena’s face, her expression instantly almost bashful. Harry was beyond intrigued. “I wouldn’t object to a kidnapping,” she said quietly. She smiled as she spoke, and that one enchanting dimple made its long-awaited appearance.
“I have wanted to do this for ages,” Harry whispered, more to himself than to Athena.
“Do what?” she asked, the last word cutting off mid-syllable as Harry took hold of her face and leaned closer to her.
Heart racing and pounding again, he bent toward her and slowly, gently kissed the dimple just at the corner of her mouth. He heard and felt her sigh and knew it was a lost cause. He had intended only to talk with her. He’d get back to the talking eventually.
The slightest shift was all that was necessary for his lips to touch hers. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, but that tiny part of his mind that was still functioning rationally knew that such obvious damage to her appearance would not easily be put to rights. He would not subject her to the gossip that would create. Harry contented himself with touching her face, her neck, wrapping his arms around her and simply holding her to him.
Athena’s arms hooked around his neck as she returned his kisses with obvious enthusiasm. Being romantically courted may have been Athena’s dream, but being kissed like that by Athena had long been Harry’s.
He smiled as he pulled away. Harry kept his hands on her shoulders, his arms a little stiff, in order to maintain the necessary distance. Closed doors and heartfelt confession were, it seemed, a dangerous combination. He would need to take extra precautions to avoid such things until everything was official and such liberties were permitted.
“Oh, Harry,” Athena said, her voice a little breathless, her face flushed still.
Harry smiled, happiness permeating every inch of him. She moved toward him, and he stiffened his arms, preventing her from approaching. “You need to stay over there.” He laughed lightly. “Your lips are temptation enough without the smell of violets undermining my self-control.”
“Then you won’t be kidnapping me after all?” Athena asked, her eyes twinkling and alive again. The weight he’d seen there only that afternoon as he’d observed her in the drawing room had vanished, and Harry’s heart sang with relief.
“No. But I would very much like to marry you,” he said. “I have loved you without hope for so long. And now . . . Adam and Persephone approve. All I need to know is if you love me—if you love me enough to marry a man who has absolutely nothing to offer you.”
“You have yourself to offer, Harry,” Athena corrected. “That is what I want.”
“Will you marry me, my love?”
Athena smiled as brightly as Harry ever remembered seeing and nodded.
In an instant she was in his arms, holding tightly to him and laughing joyously. It was music.
“Are you two almost done in there?” Adam’s voice penetrated the cocoon of privacy Harry had felt surrounding them in the same instant the door opened. “You could have gotten married and raised half your family in the amount of time you’ve taken.”
Harry kept Athena in his arms as he chuckled and faced his friend. “We’ve only been in here ten minutes, Adam.”
“Long enough for me to insist you marry her,” Adam pointed out. “I’ll get you a special license. You can be married tonight. We’ll wrap this up, and we can all go home.”
“No, Adam,” Harry said. “Post the banns, we’ll marry at Falstone Chapel. At Christmas.”
“Christmas!” Adam stepped closer to them, his stance defiant. “That is a full month away, you sniveling worm.”
“It will be a very busy month, I assure you.” Harry tightened his hold on Athena, even kissing the top of her head.
Adam’s expression shifted into the seething, bubbling calm that always indicated he was moments from slicing some unsuspecting person’s throat. “Busy in what way?” he asked, his eyes pointedly moving to Harry’s arms wrapped very snuggly around Athena.
“Nothing untoward, I assure you. I simply think Athena ought to be courted like any young lady would wish to be.” Adam raised an eyebrow. “Under the watchful eye of her guardian, of course,” Harry added.
“You mean I have to watch this sentimental muck?” Adam looked absolutely repulsed. “For an entire month!”
“I am certain Persephone would take turns with you.” Harry could feel Athena laughing as he spoke.
“I will not have Falstone Castle turned into a monument to romantic nonsense,” Adam declared, spinning back toward the door. “Persephone!”
She slipped in from around the corner, grinning in obvious amusement. “Yes?”
“He wants a month.” Adam pointed at Harry. “A month of that.”
“They are courting, dear,” Persephone laughed. “That is to be expected.”
“Yes, well, being thrown in the dungeon or hanged in the gibbet is also to be expected,” Adam threatened. “Worthless heap of rubbish,” he ended on a mutter.
“I am certain you can find ample distractions, Adam,” Persephone said.
“I should have thrown him out decades ago.”
“Yes, you probably should have,” Persephone replied. “But now you are stuck with him. It is best you endure until he takes his bride home.”
“And I will not wait around until that pile of rotting timbers on his estate is livable, you hear me?” Adam gave Harry a very pointed look. “Pick any Kielder holding—except the Castle—and take yourselves off as soon as the register is signed. Live there as long as it takes. I will not endure the sight of newlyweds.”
It was an offer of a place to live until Harry’s estate was put to rights. Harry recognized that, as well as the need Adam felt to justify the generosity by cloaking it in a mask of irritation. Life had not been kind to Adam, but Harry was
realizing that he, himself, was fortunate indeed. He would never have thought while he was being pummeled by a gang of bullies his first year at Harrow that the beating would prove to be one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Adam had come to the rescue then, and the friendship that followed had changed Harry’s life for the better.
“In the interest of our continued existence, I’ll do just that,” Harry assured Adam, smiling his gratitude, knowing Adam would not appreciate having it spoken out loud.
Adam nodded, precisely the way he always did when acknowledging what Harry had left unspoken.
“I believe if we put our minds to it, we could leave for Falstone Castle in the morning,” Persephone said. “If we pack the essentials and have the staff send up the rest afterward, we could manage it.”
“Perfect,” Adam declared. “First light, Harry.”
Harry nodded. Adam had always taken him to Falstone to save Harry the cost of taking a public conveyance. The trip would be even more appreciated than before with Athena there for company.
“And you can get on with the business of courting your future wife.” Persephone smiled.
“Gladly,” Harry answered.
Persephone and Adam stepped from the room first. Harry lifted Athena’s hand to his lips. With the door open, kissing her as he truly wished to was no longer an option.
“Oh, Harry,” Athena said. “All those years I prayed that I would find a wonderful, loving gentleman. I watched and waited and worried. And all along, the answer was you.”
Harry smiled at her. He rather enjoyed being the answer to a prayer. “Sometimes, I think heaven has to hit us over the head to get our attention. Adam regularly takes on that duty himself.”
“I love you, Harry,” Athena said, touching his face with the hand he was not holding.
“And I love you,” he answered, squeezing her fingers before pulling her arm through his and walking quite properly with her on his arm.
“Are you really going to court me?” Athena asked, smiling at him.
“Quite extensively,” Harry confirmed. “I only hope I meet the requirements on that rather long list of yours.”
Courting Miss Lancaster Page 18