CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As I looked around at the happy, excited crowd, I wondered – not for the first time – if they were superior actors, or if these people were really enjoying themselves. Was it possible that a person could be squeezed into a ballgown and then squeezed into a ballroom and feel anything other than a simmering sense of panic combined with crushing boredom?
Lord and Lady Wellerby’s “small get-together” consisted of roughly two hundred people. Mother had been instantly swallowed whole by a hungry gaggle of chaperones: friends from her own season who were delighted to welcome her back to town and into the familiar ritual. I’d been deposited by the dance floor like an item of lost luggage, and then had danced every dance with an interchangeable partner: he was always expensive-looking, always knew the steps and asked questions by rote, always utterly dull.
“You look charming tonight, Lady Felicity,” the one who currently had his arm round my waist said. I couldn’t recall his name, but he was about my age, with a bobbing Adam’s apple, and I thought he was counting the steps in his head. At least it meant there had been less awkward small talk.
“Thank you,” I replied. The dance floor was hot and crowded and, as we danced, I felt eyes on me – weighing, measuring eyes. I tried taking a deep breath to steady myself and the young man’s gaze dipped to the neckline of my dress. His Adam’s apple bobbed harder, a flush crawled up his neck.
Not that there was anything indecent about the gown. Mother had chosen it, and it was a demure blush pink, trimmed with ivory lace, pretty as a strawberry mousse. Personally, I much preferred the dress I’d worn to play the part of Mrs Williams. Mother had found it hidden in my wardrobe earlier and I’d had to hastily pass it off as one of Izzy’s, accidentally misplaced. Such a daring creation was not for young debutantes: no, we had to look like puff pastries, sweet enough to cause indigestion.
The song came to an end, and my dance partner escorted me to the edge of the dance floor, bowing and saying the right, polite things that they all said.
Goodness, I was bored. And hot. And frustrated. Itching to get away from everything, suffocated by the whole foolish business but forced to smile through it like a well-behaved young lady.
I would only have a moment of respite, I knew. I used it to fantasize about fleeing through the front door.
“Perhaps I could have this dance?” a voice said from behind me, and time slowed as I turned to find myself confronted by the sight of Edward Laing.
Everything stilled, for an instant, as his eyes met mine. The music dropped away, and something like fear crawled in my throat.
“I’m sorry.” My voice was wondrously calm as my heart threatened to hammer clean out of my chest. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
He smiled, the same charming smile I’d seen at the Penny. He looked more handsome in his evening suit, as put together and polished as always, but sharper with it. The lights from the ballroom gilded his hair, his gaze was focused on me, honed as a knife edge. In contrast, his movements were easy, relaxed. It was the combination that left me off-balance.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I feel as though we already know one another.” He paused here, long enough for panic to rear up inside me, but then he carried on. “I’ve heard so much about Lord Vane’s clever sister, Lady Felicity. I’m Edward Laing.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I managed, watching him as closely as I dared for any flicker of recognition. There was none, but then he might be a good actor.
“So?” He raised an eyebrow, held out his hand. “Is it too forward of me to ask you to dance after such a brief introduction?”
“Not at all,” I replied, knowing that it was much less suspicious to accept his invitation. “I’d be happy to.”
A lie. An utter lie. I wasn’t happy at all. I wondered what he was doing here, wondered if Izzy, who hadn’t arrived yet, knew that he was at this gathering. Had he been invited? He seemed utterly at ease, as comfortable in these surroundings as he’d been in the gaming den. An accepted member of society, despite his lack of personal history. Where precisely had he sprung up from?
When his fingers wrapped around mine, his other hand went to my waist, and his movements were smooth and sure. I tried not to flinch and found myself looking fixedly over his shoulder. I must not panic. That would achieve nothing.
“I wonder if there’s something interesting happening behind me?” he asked in a teasing voice as the music swelled and he guided me around the floor. “Perhaps a more handsome suitor?” He darted a glance over his shoulder, following the path of my gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was … thinking.”
“Ah,” he said sympathetically. “Not much time for that at events like these. I suppose they’ve all been talking you to death over the usual topics.”
“What are the usual topics?”
“Oh, the weather, the entirety of their social calendars, the latest gossip on the royal family, their horses …”
As this was exactly what every man I’d met tonight had talked about, I couldn’t suppress a sound of amusement.
He grinned. “You know, I would swear that you and I had met before,” he said softly.
Any levity fled at that. “I’m rarely out in society,” I said, trying for a careless shrug. “Perhaps I have a common face.”
“Oh, come now,” Laing chided. “That is fishing for a compliment, Lady Felicity. You must know that you’re anything but common. You’re quite lovely. Indeed, you are … unique.”
“I suppose I’ve never been good at fitting in,” I said after a beat.
The music came to an end. Laing pulled me into one last turn, and bowed over my hand. When he straightened, I removed my fingers from his as quickly as I could.
“Why would you want to fit in with the rest of them?” he asked. His voice was pitched low and he leaned forward, stepping into my space and making the moment somehow intimate. “When you could be extraordinary ?”
“I…” I began, but thankfully we were interrupted by another man who came over, slapping Laing on the shoulder.
“There you are, old fellow!” he boomed. “Got a friend or two who would like to talk to you about this canal scheme – come and have a hand of cards.”
“Of course, Carlton. I’d be happy to,” Laing agreed cheerfully. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Felicity. I hope we shall repeat the event soon.” Lingering over these last words, his eyes moved across my face, and I had the strange feeling he was cataloguing my features.
He left without a backwards glance, but even when he disappeared into the crowd, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still watching, waiting to see what I did next.
As my next partner approached, I excused myself with more haste than grace, murmuring something about retiring for a moment. Noting that my mother was fully occupied, I slipped through the crowd in the direction of the ladies’ retiring room, but – making sure no one was looking my way – I took a sharp turn, heading instead for the doors that led out to the garden. The need to get away was an itch crawling across my skin and I could ignore it no longer.
The night was clear and calm, and the sudden dropping away of the noise and the lights gave the same immediate relief as plunging into cool water on a punishingly hot day. I exhaled a long, shaky breath.
A soft giggle came from behind me, and I realized that I wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the privacy provided by the slippery oil spill of darkness out here. I moved further away from the sound, skirting round the side of the house, putting even more distance between myself and the ballroom, between myself and Edward Laing.
I was overlooking a more formal garden area now, though it was hard to see, given the only light was that streaming out from the house. It was a large space for a London home, but the Wellerbys were an old, rich family and they liked people to know about it. I wandered down several long, shallow stone steps and felt the crunch of a gravel footpath under my thin silk slippers. High, perfectly clipped hedges rose up on either side of me, as I walked into a sort of avenue, leading down towards a stone fountain.
It was even darker here, and I picked carefully across to where the fountain stood, white stone glowing quietly under the moonlight. Leaning over, I trailed my fingers through the water, an icy bite like teeth against my skin.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing all the way out here?” A voice came from so close behind me that I started, teetering for a second over the water. Before I could plunge in head first, a strong hand wrapped around my arm and tugged me backwards. My body knew who the voice belonged to even before my brain did, because I softened instinctively into his hold.
“Ash,” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”