Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“Alady should always display some grace. She is expected to be the anchor, and not the storm in any room,” Joshua advised.
Lucy had never been a rebel like Victoria, but at that moment, her mind went against what her brother was telling her. She was feeling constrained, and she could not help but want to push back and finally be the storm.
Joshua adjusted his already neatly placed cuffs. It made Lucy wonder if, despite his calmness, he was as nervous as she was, standing at the edge of the Redmoor ballroom for the last night of festivities at the estate.
The Redmoor ballroom looked like it had been pulled from a Highland dream, with its heavy tartans draping the walls. When she inhaled, she smelled heather, blending nicely with expensive wax.
She was in a dream. The only thing that removed her from the dream was Joshua’s hand, which was suddenly on her elbow once more.
His fingers dug into her skin like a warning: Lucy, you are here to behave.
Even though she was wearing a thick dress with a high neck, she could still feel the effects of his possessiveness.
“You look pale, Lucy,” he murmured, sounding concerned. His eyes swept her up and down, his brows deeply furrowed.
When did he start having deep lines on his forehead? It looked like Joshua was hurtling into old age when he was fairly young. He should not be looking at her too much. He should not be worrying about her. Instead, he should be finding a wife to solidify his legacy.
“I—I am fine,” she stammered a response.
She hated that she sounded like she was actually ill. Perhaps it was because she was not fine. Not fine at all. Physically, though, she was doing quite well. Inside her, she had to deal with constant turmoil.
“You look pale, little one,” her brother murmured, his gaze sweeping over her.
It was what she’d gotten used to with him. Protectiveness blended with possessiveness.
“Stay close to me, especially during the first dance,” his words confirmed it all as he spoke.
“It would show everyone that nobody should trifle with you. Your big brother is here to protect you as much as he can. However, you do need to show them that a Coulson is graceful and is not prone to fidget.”
“Joshua,” Lucy whispered, feeling deeply uncomfortable. “Look around. There must be a lady here who has caught your eye. A gentleman should never waste a first dance on his sister. We don’t want them to think that you have no interest in finding a wife. You are of age, after all.”
Her brother gave her a thin-lipped smile and replied, “Do not fret about what others say. My duty is to my sister. After all, a brother’s watch never ends.”
Lucy could only nod weakly at that declaration. She reluctantly joined her brother on the dance floor, barely remembering the blur of rigid movements.
Her brother knew the steps well and could perform them with precision, but somehow, everything felt like a drill. Worse, his eyes were too intently on hers that she had to avert her gaze.
Joshua needed to know how to relax his grip on her. He was overly attentive.
When the music mercifully ended, he walked her near a cluster of ferns as if to hide her behind the fronds. Then, he patted her hand as if she were a child or a pet.
“It was not that bad, was it not, Lucy?” he asked, with a smile warmer than the one he gave her before the dance. “Don’t stray too far. I am about to engage in necessary political discourse with Lord Ferris.”
Across the room, another pair of siblings was engaged in earnest conversation. Daniel stood by a pillar, his arms folded across his chest. The cool marble pressed faintly against his shoulder, but it did little to ease the tightness that had settled through his body.
He clenched his jaw as he saw Lucy being deposited to the side after that awkward display of a dance with her insufferable brother.
The fellow had barely spared her a glance before abandoning her like an obligation fulfilled. Daniel’s fingers curled slightly against his sleeve.
Bloody fool.
Lucy remained where she had been left, her hands lightly clasped before her. She attempted a small smile at a passing couple, though no one stopped to speak with her. The sight stirred something sharp and unreasonable in Daniel’s chest.
She should not be standing there alone.
There was nothing remarkable about her position, of course. Many ladies lingered at the edges of ballrooms between dances. Yet Lucy seemed almost… misplaced there, like something bright that had been carelessly set aside.
“You are brooding once more, Daniel. You do know that it’s time to smile and celebrate. This is a ball, after all, and not a meeting with your tenants or the parliament,” Daphne reminded him gently.
Daniel did not turn his head.
“I am fine over here, Daphne,” he grumbled, although his eyes were still fixed on Lucy.
Fine was not the correct word. Restless, perhaps, or irritated. Or distracted in a manner he found deeply inconvenient.
Lucy shifted her weight slightly, glancing toward the dance floor where laughter and music carried through the glittering room. Candlelight caught in the soft strands of her hair. She looked, he thought with a faint frown, like a wallflower who did not deserve to go unnoticed.
Meanwhile, his sister had narrowed her eyes at him.
It was a trial to live with several intelligent sisters.
“Ask her for the next dance,” Daphne suggested.
Daniel huffed quietly.
“I am not interested in twirling around the dance floor, sister,” he replied, still surly.
“You know how it is. If I dance with the same woman twice within a week, the ton will begin to speculate about a wedding. I am not planning to be wed soon, nor do I have time to deal with the complications of rumors and scandal.”
Nor did he have time for distractions.
His gaze drifted again to Lucy.
Her bright curiosity, the warmth in her eyes, the way she looked at him as though he were not merely a title and a reputation but a man worth speaking to.
It was… disarming. Dangerously so.
Daphne would not relent. She fixed her gentle face on him, probably knowing that she, much like their other sisters, was his weakness, and that he would lay down his life for them without hesitation.
“Do not sabotage your chance for happiness because of a few whispers from people who don’t matter to you,” she said softly.
“You deserve to dance and laugh and just be you. It is time to live in the present, instead of the shadows of the past. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for her.
She looks like she needs a friend right now. ”
Daniel exhaled slowly.
Friend.
The word felt both simple and strangely complicated.
He glanced back at Lucy. She did look a little lonely and uncomfortable now, her gaze lowered as she smoothed the skirts of her gown.
Something tightened in his chest again.
Blast it.
“Gordon is out there,” he muttered after a moment. “I can’t—I can’t forget what my mission is.”
The name alone was enough to drag him back into the darker corners of his thoughts.
“Do you see signs of Gordon in the ballroom?” Daphne asked calmly. “Do you see yourself leaving the house within an hour?”
Daniel did not answer. He knew the truth of it. The ballroom was filled with music and laughter, not conspiracy.
“Your mission will still be there tomorrow,” she continued. “However, tonight is fleeting. Life is fleeting. Kenneth’s death should have taught you that. You must learn to live.”
Kenneth.
The name almost made him wince.
For a moment, Daniel’s gaze drifted across the dancers without seeing them. He remembered another ballroom. Another night filled with laughter that had ended in silence.
Kenneth had been alive then. Now he was not.
Life is fleeting.
His jaw loosened slightly.
Across the room, Lucy finally lifted her gaze again. For a brief moment, her eyes moved through the crowd and landed on him.
She froze, just slightly, as though surprised to find him watching.
Daniel felt an odd, steady pull in his chest.
And sighed under his breath.
His sisters would be the death of him yet.
Lucy thought that she would spend the rest of the night standing still in the corner of the ballroom so that people would soon think she was a statue.
With some relief, she saw Elizabeth and Alasdair approaching. She smiled at the sight of the radiant host and hostess, but the smile faltered at the sight of Elizabeth’s face. There was a hint of worry in her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Victoria is upstairs,” Elizabeth explained. “All these activities have been too much for her. The excitement of the Highland games has taken its toll. Richard is with her, of course. He is holding a cool cloth to her head, while he soothes her with stories about some of the guests.”
“He is a good husband,” Lucy commented sincerely, though she could not help but wonder what it would have been like to have that attention, instead of the obsessive one from her brother.
When she looked behind Elizabeth, she saw a young lord approaching them. Hope rose in her chest as she saw that his eyes seemed to be on her.
“Good evening to you, Lady Lucy,” he greeted. “Your Graces.”
Polite greetings were exchanged, and Lucy found herself standing straighter and taller.”
“Lord Beecham!” a lady Lucy vaguely remembered greeted the young lord.
The lady was about her age but wore more fashionable silks, and her mahogany-colored hair was twisted into an elegant updo.
“I was looking for you, Lady Arabella!” Lord Beecham replied enthusiastically. “May I have the honor of this next dance?”
“But of course, my lord,” Lady Arabella giggled, as they joined hands and merrily walked to the middle of the room.
In the corner of Lucy’s eye, she could see Joshua dancing with a young countess. At least someone had found a match of sorts.
She sighed.
“Oh, Lucy. He’s not such a great loss,” murmured Elizabeth.
“Dance with us, lass!” Alasdair encouraged. “Nobody will question the ways of the Scottish.”