“I was worried too while I was hanging over that awful abyss.”
Fiona couldn’t even begin to imagine. When she’d heard of Emily’s ordeal, she’d hurried to see her immediately, only to be kept away by her parents and Montsmouth, who all insisted Emily needed to rest. “It must have been terrifying.”
“It was.” She gave a wistful smile. “Charles saved me though.”
“So informal?” Fiona teased.
Emily blushed and her smile broadened. “He asked me to marry him, and I have accepted.”
Fiona hugged her sister once more. “That’s wonderful news! I wonder how nobody mentioned it.”
“That part was my idea. I didn’t want all the attention right after the incident, so I’m thinking we should wait until tonight before making a formal announcement.”
“The ball will make for a perfect occasion,” Fiona agreed. “I was actually wondering if you needed help dressing, but I see you managed quite well on your own. That gown looks stunning on you by the way.”
“Thank you, Fiona. To be honest, I called for a maid to help, though I must confess my shoulder is working perfectly once more. Montsmouth made a fuss about it, however. He insisted I not strain it in any way, so I agreed to be coddled for his peace of mind.”
“I’ve never seen a man more shaken than he,” Fiona told her. “I believe he loves you a great deal.”
“As I love him. Indeed, I consider myself the most fortunate of women, Fiona.” An odd hint of sadness touched Emily’s eyes before she quietly added, “It would be wonderful for you to experience the sort of joy I have found. Perhaps Chadwick—”
“No,” Fiona said. “He has no interest in me. Not in that way, at least.”
“I cannot believe that. Perhaps if—”
“Can we please forget about Chadwick and simply enjoy the evening without worrying about whether or not I will receive an offer too?” Taking Emily’s hand, she gave it a little squeeze. “There is already plenty for us to celebrate with you, Laura, and Rachel taken into account.” Fiona was enormously pleased with her sisters’ good fortunes. “Mama and Papa must be beside themselves with joy.”
“And you are still young, Fiona. You have plenty of time to become affianced and marry.”
As optimistic as her sister’s words were no doubt meant to be, they filled Fiona with a sense of depressing hopelessness. Yes, she had time, but not to make the right match. It seemed that doing so would now be impossible since the only man she wanted did not want her. “Are you ready to go down to the ballroom?” she asked in a joyful tone that sounded far too false and eager. “There will be other people present besides our own party. No doubt I shall find a handsome vicar with whom to dance.”
Emily laughed and followed Fiona out of the room, her pale yellow gown twirling about her legs in an elegant way that was sure to draw attention. Fiona herself had chosen to wear a lilac creation with lace cap sleeves. As pointless as it would be, she’d hoped to draw Chadwick’s attention since the low décolletage made it slightly more daring than anything else he’d ever seen her in. She huffed out a breath. He probably wouldn’t even notice.
“We wanted to wait for you before heading in,” Laura said when she met her and Emily at the foot of the grand staircase. She was standing together with Lamont and Montsmouth who immediately hurried to Emily’s side and offered her his arm. “Rachel and Belgrave are keeping company with a scientist Lady Duncaster invited – some gentleman by the name of Sir David Brewster. I have a feeling they will be happily occupied by him for the remainder of the evening.”
“Lucky Rachel,” Fiona said, falling into step next to Laura while Lamont followed behind. Glancing up, she caught sight of the garlands that hung on the walls. The scarlet bows adorning them offered a pretty contrast to the dark green pine, and as she inhaled, she caught a breath of the trees from which they’d been cut. It reminded her of the game of hideandgoseek she’d played with Chadwick a week and a half ago. It had been silly and fun until everything had somehow managed to change. They no longer laughed together as they once had, and she found she longed to do so again more than she longed for him to reciprocate her love.
“You look incredible tonight,” Laura whispered while they walked.
Feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, Fiona wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake with her gown. It made her feel horribly self-conscious all of a sudden. “You sound surprised.”
“Only because I have made a bad habit of thinking of you as my little sister – the girl who used to chase me with sticky marmalade fingers when we were children. I tend to forget you’re all grown up now – a diamond of the first water with every chance of making an excellent match for yourself.”
“I have no such intention this evening,” Fiona said. They entered the ballroom where light shimmered from the crystal chandeliers overhead while music rose in waves of melodic pleasure. Red velvet bows strung with tiny bells had been pinned along the walls in a festive display of holiday cheer. Sucking in a breath, Fiona admired the efforts Lady Duncaster and her servants had gone to for the sake of one evening. “Oh, isn’t this lovely?”
“It is indeed,” Laura said, while Emily and Montsmouth slipped passed them and headed toward the dance floor. Lamont moved closer to Laura’s side.
“May I introduce Mr. Haroldson, Mr. Brown, and Mr. Danton?” Lady Duncaster asked. She’d approached with the three young gentlemen in tow, each more eager-looking than the other.
“Delighted,” Fiona said.
“I take it you live in these parts?” Lamont asked.
“My family owns land half an hour west of here,” Mr. Haroldson said. He was the slimmest of the bunch and in possession of a pleasant expression that compensated nicely for what he lacked in looks.
Mr. Brown nodded. “I inherited an estate a couple of years ago. It used to specialize in agriculture, but I find fishing to be a far more profitable source of income. And with the shore as close as it is, there is some convenience to it. I’ve about twenty vessels that go out every morning. The catch is then shipped off to the markets in London.”
“How admirable,” Fiona said. She was rewarded with a smile that made Mr. Brown appear both appreciative and handsome at the same time. “And what of you, Mr. Danton?” She gave her attention to the last gentleman. He’d held back, making him appear humbler than the other two.
“I got my law degree from Cambridge three years ago and have since set up a small office in the village. People travel from both near and far in order to consult me, and the rent is cheaper than anything I might be able to find in London.” Mr. Danton met Fiona’s gaze with directness. “It provides me with a comfortable home and a reasonable income.”
“Mr. Danton has done really well for himself,” Lady Duncaster said, like a mother hen trying to show off her chick. “Most would consider a house with twenty rooms a manor, but he is far too modest to make a show of his accomplishments. So I must take it upon myself to do it for him.”
Mr. Danton smiled tightly. “I shouldn’t think a label would matter.”
Lady Duncaster laughed. “Oh indeed, you are quite mistaken there, Mr. Danton. Unfortunately our society is built exclusively upon labels – more precisely, the right ones.”
“Which is why titles hold such great value,” Mr. Haroldson pointed out. He took a small step toward Fiona. “If I may, I would like to request a dance from you.”
Fiona dutifully pulled out her dance card and offered it to him. Mr. Brown glanced at Laura, prompting Lamont to say, “If you will excuse us, I believe the quadrille is starting, and I have promised Lady Laura I would dance it with her.” With a bow, he then guided Laura away from the group.
Fiona managed to catch a murmured, “sorry,” from her sister before she disappeared into the crowd. Lady Duncaster extricated herself soon after, leaving Fiona alone with her new admirers. She accepted a dance from Mr. Brown and Mr. Danton as well and agreed to join them for some refreshment while they waited for t
he next set to begin.
“Would you care for some cake?” Mr. Haroldson asked. He indicated the beautiful creations the cook had made for the occasion. One contained nuts and berries, while one had been made from decadent chocolate. The third, which Fiona selected, was a vanilla layer cake with custard in the middle. All had been covered in thick blue frosting and decorated with white marzipan snowflakes.
“Some champagne to go with it?” Mr. Brown offered, while Mr. Danton provided Fiona with a napkin.
“Only if you will have some as well,” she told the trio, who were almost falling over each other in their efforts to see to her every need. When they hesitated, she added a distinct, “I insist.” Upon which more glasses were swiftly filled with the bubbly liquid.
As expected, the cake was divine. Fiona happily ate every last crumb of it while listening as attentively as possible to what her companions were saying. One spoke of farmland, the other about mackerel and pollock, and the third about a legal dispute between two shop owners.
Glancing around, Fiona scanned the room. Her parents conversed with an elderly couple on the far side, while Rachel and Belgrave kept company with a white-haired gentleman who had to be in possession of the bushiest whiskers Fiona had ever seen. She supposed he must be Sir David Brewster.
Sliding her gaze to the left, she located Emily and Montsmouth and Laura and Lamont. All four were engaged in the quadrille, as was…Fiona blinked…Chadwick. With laughing eyes and his typical boyish grin, he guided his dance partner about the floor with remarkable elegance.
Fiona’s mouth went dry. Her stomach tightened, and something unpleasant began to take root in her chest. She had no right to be jealous of the pretty young woman with whom he was dancing, yet it was almost as if she could scarcely breathe. A knot had formed in her throat, and she suddenly felt impossibly cold.
“My lady?”
She turned in the direction of the voice that had spoken and found all three gentlemen staring back at her in question.
“Are you all right?” Mr. Danton inquired.
“You look a bit pale,” Mr. Haroldson said.
“Perhaps you would like to sit?” Mr. Brown suggested.
All Fiona wanted to do was flee. It hadn’t occurred to her until this precise moment that seeing Chadwick dance with another woman could have such a jarring effect. She actually wanted to push his lovely dance partner away from him! But what purpose would that have other than convincing Chadwick she was an absolute lunatic?
So she blew out a breath and squared her shoulders, ignored the pain that twisted inside her, and pasted a deliberate smile upon her face. “I am perfectly well, gentlemen. No need for concern.”
They couldn’t have looked more relieved, and as the quadrille drew to a close, Fiona found herself whisked off to the dance floor by Mr. Haroldson. She danced a reel and a country dance next before ending up with Mr. Haroldson once more for a minute.
“I simply couldn’t resist,” he told her, looking tremendously pleased with himself. “To find a lady as lovely as yourself in these parts is a rarity. Tell me,” he murmured while he led her about, “might I call on you here tomorrow? We could take a carriage ride together and stop for tea and cake somewhere. I could show you my property, if you like.”
Sensing the direction in which this was going, Fiona took a moment to consider her response to him properly. “You are exceptionally kind to offer me such attention. Please know I am most appreciative, but it would be wrong of me not to tell you that my affection lies elsewhere.”
“Well then,” he said. It took a second for him to continue. “I thank you for your candor, my lady. The man who has claimed your heart is fortunate indeed.”
Fiona valued the sentiment, even though the man in question would never be made aware of her feelings for him – not when she knew his feelings for her were only platonic. Revealing the contents of her heart would probably kill her, but she managed to nod in agreement and finished her dance with a smile. They parted ways then, and she set out to find her parents. If she kept their company for the remainder of the evening, or engaged in a game of cards perhaps, then she might be able to distract herself from the fact she was the only remaining sibling to yet make a match – that she was alone and that her heart had been broken.
But when she made her way along the periphery of the ballroom, accepting two more dances as she went, she found her path blocked by none other than the man whom she sought to avoid. Because as fate would have it, Chadwick stepped right in front of her, and as luck would have it, he was more dashing than ever before. It didn’t seem possible, and yet it was. Fiona wanted to scream with frustration or at least stomp her foot. Instead, she did her best to appear unaffected, even though she felt weak-kneed and wobbly.
“There you are,” she managed to say. “I was beginning to wonder where you were.” Feigning indifference had never come easily to her, but she made her best attempt at doing so now in order to keep her pride intact.
“Fiona.” His eyes held a stormy gleam that made her want to leap straight into his arms. Tamping down the temptation, she held back while he looked her over. Whatever emotion he’d initially shown upon seeing her was immediately banked behind layers of cool reserve that did nothing but tear her soul to shreds. He took her hand and bowed over it, kissing the air above her knuckles before straightening once again.
“How can it be you’ve managed to outshine all other women this evening?”
She felt an immediate rush of heat and knew she must be blushing. “It has to be my feminine charm,” she said, with an overstated emphasis on the word charm.
He smiled in response to that with such genuineness, Fiona felt something lift from her shoulders. Unable to stop herself, she grinned, and soon he was grinning as well. It felt remarkably good and…normal…as if the world was finally spinning in the right direction again.
“I actually wondered if you would like to dance with me tonight.” He sounded almost shy, which she found a little bit odd. Chadwick had always been the most self-assured individual of her acquaintance, especially when they were together. For him to sound uncertain now made her feel slightly wary, perhaps even a bit uncomfortable.
She drew a breath. No. It isn’t safe. You won’t survive it, an inner voice warned her. But then another more tempting voice beckoned, Yes, please. Let me pretend for a little while and pick up the pieces of my broken heart tomorrow. She chose to listen to the latter and held her dance card toward him. “We never have before. I think it might be about time.”
His face tightened, and his smile gradually dimmed until it was barely visible at all. Slowly, as if he might be regretting his suggestion, he took the dance card, studied it for what seemed an eternity, and finally scribbled his name. “There you are,” he said when he handed the card back.
Curious, Fiona dropped her gaze and stared at the spot where his bold letters had been written. “The waltz?” She should have heeded that first voice instead, because this was going to be torture. A thought popped into her head. “I’ve yet to be granted permission to dance it.”
He merely shrugged. “That rule applies mainly to Almack’s and its patronesses, none of whom are here.”
“True, but there are still my parents to consider.”
“You think they might disapprove?” He gave a thoughtful nod. “They might. We can ask for their permission.”
“But—”
“Unless, of course, you wish to avoid waltzing with me for some reason?” His brows knit, and he searched her face for some sign of reluctance. Which she would then have to explain.
Oh, darn it!
“Of course not.” Her voice was too high pitched to sound even remotely normal. She forced her best smile. “Waltzing with you will be so much fun, Chadwick. I can scarcely wait!”
Perfect! Now he looked suspicious!
Deciding to distract him from her peculiar behavior, she grabbed him by his hand and started leading him through the crowd, which made several p
eople turn and stare. Too agitated to care, Fiona chose to ignore them while she spoke to Chadwick over her shoulder. “Let us settle this now then, shall we? I believe my parents are right over there.”
Chapter 20
On one hand, Edward liked the spontaneity with which Fiona had taken him by the hand. Such an act was not generally seen in a ballroom – or anywhere else for that matter – which was probably why they met with so many frowns of disapproval as they made their way through the crowd. But on the other hand, a part of him felt compelled to pull his hand away and deny himself the harrowing bliss he found from such simple contact. Both were wearing gloves, yet he could feel not only the warmth of her body permeating the thin fabric but the beat of her pulse whenever their wrists happened to meet, the strength of her fingers wound around his.
She did not want to dance with him, that much was clear. Her reluctance when he’d made the suggestion could not have been plainer. The question was why. When he’d tried to broach her averseness, she’d quickly denied it while doing her best to look as agreeable as possible. The act hadn’t fooled him for a second, but it had torn at his heart.
Trying to conjure some explanation for her response, the only thing he could think was that she might have guessed how he felt about her – that perhaps, somehow, no matter how careful he’d been, he’d given himself away – and that now she was trying to add some distance in the hope he might withdraw his affection. He could never do so. A heart was not so easily ordered about. But maybe he could do better at this game of pretense he’d been playing ever since she’d made her lack of interest known. He drew a deep breath as they came to a halt before Lord and Lady Oakland and greeted them both in turn.
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