Chapter Nine
The noise of the ballroom had grown overwhelming.
Courtney slipped through the French doors onto the west terrace, breathing deeply of the cool night air, grateful for the momentary respite.
Rockwell’s wedding ball was a splendid affair, but after her dance with Lucien, she needed a moment to collect her thoughts.
Her heartbeat had only just begun to steady when Lauren appeared at her side.
“Seeking sanctuary?” Lauren asked, her blue eyes knowing.
“Just a breath of fresh air,” Courtney replied, smiling at Lucien’s sister. In the soft glow of the terrace lanterns, Lauren’s resemblance to her brother was striking—the same dark hair, the same direct gaze, though Lauren’s held the sparkle that Lucien’s had lost during his years in Ireland.
“I saw you dancing with my brother.” Lauren’s tone was casual, but Courtney detected the undercurrent of curiosity. “He looked…intense.”
“That would be one word for it,” Courtney agreed, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her emerald silk skirts. The memory of Lucien’s hand at her waist, the earnestness in his gaze as he asked her to accompany them to Dorset lingered like the warmth of a hearth fire against winter’s chill.
“Well, if you’re hiding from him, you’ve chosen the wrong spot,” Lauren teased. “He’s been watching the doors since you left the ballroom.”
“I’m not hiding,” Courtney protested, though perhaps she was, a little. Not from Lucien, but from the intensity of her own feelings. “I just needed a moment to clear my head.”
“You and half the ladies of the ton, it seems,” Lauren observed as their friend Valora appeared at the terrace doors, followed by Ivy and Ashley.
Claire emerged a moment later, looking flushed from dancing.
Ivy and Ashley, Rockwell’s sisters, always tried to keep Valora’s behavior in check.
Valora was Axton’s sister, and he had a hard time keeping infatuated men away from the great beauty and ton diamond.
Claire was the most sensible of them all.
Her brother was the Earl of Marlowe, the biggest rake in all England and the main reason Claire always declared she never wanted to marry.
Her brother’s heartbreaking ways made her believe love was for fools.
All the ladies were part of the sisterhood investment club and the best of friends.
“There you both are,” Valora said, her dark eyes bright with mischief. “Discussing Lord Furoe’s sudden interest in courtship, I presume?”
Heat rose in Courtney’s cheeks. “We were discussing the loveliness of the evening, actually.”
“Mmm, very lovely indeed,” Valora agreed, her smile teasing. “Especially the part where the recently returned viscount couldn’t take his eyes off you during the waltz.”
“Oh, leave Court alone,” Ivy chided, though her own eyes sparkled with interest. “After everything she’s endured, she deserves some peace.”
“Thank you, Ivy,” Courtney said, grateful for the intervention.
“Though,” Ivy added thoughtfully, “I must say, the man does cut a fine figure in evening wear. Those shoulders have certainly broadened since his gentleman days.”
“Farm work,” Lauren explained, a touch of pride in her voice. “He’s grown quite strong. Papa says he can outride any of the grooms now.”
Courtney tried to reconcile this image, Lucien with rolled-up shirtsleeves, hair tousled, muscles straining as he hauled timber, with the polished viscount she’d fallen in love with five years ago. Both versions made her heart race, but in decidedly different ways.
“It is rather remarkable, isn’t it?” Claire mused, leaning against the stone balustrade. “How this season has unfolded. First Serena and Julian, then Tiffany and Wolf, and now Farah and Rockwell—all married to men they’ve known their entire lives.”
“It’s as if Cupid suddenly remembered a stack of unfinished business,” Ashley agreed with a laugh.
“Speaking of unfinished business,” Valora said, turning to Claire, “where is that disreputable brother of yours tonight? I haven’t seen Fane anywhere.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Probably somewhere he shouldn’t be, with someone he shouldn’t be with. I wouldn’t wait on my rakish, man-whore brother if I were you, Val. He’s not looking at settling down anytime soon.”
“As if I’d wait on him,” Valora scoffed, though Courtney noticed the slight flush that crept up her neck. “I was merely curious.”
“Curiosity is a dangerous thing where Fane is concerned,” Claire warned. “Just ask any debutante from the last three Seasons. He broke many a heart.”
“Well, I’m certainly not in danger of becoming the next bride this season,” Ashley said, a hint of resignation in her voice. “Not with the ‘scandal’ still hanging over me.”
“Don’t be so certain,” Ivy countered, nudging her friend gently. “Society’s memory is shorter than we give it credit for. I’ve noticed the Duke of Blackstone speaking with you twice this evening.” Her eyes widened meaningfully. “Farah’s brother, no less!”
Ashley waved dismissively, though her eyes brightened. “He was merely being polite. His Grace would never consider a match with someone like me.”
“Someone intelligent, beautiful, and accomplished?” Lauren asked innocently. “How dreadful for him.”
They all laughed, and Courtney felt a rush of affection for these women. Even with everything that had happened, her supposedly deceased fiancé returning from the grave with a child and no memory of their love, they had rallied around her, offering support without judgment.
“What about you, Court?” Ivy asked. “Will you give Lucien another chance? Or is Mr. Fancot the frontrunner for your affections now?”
All eyes turned to her, curious but not unkind. Courtney hesitated, uncertain how to articulate her conflicted feelings. “I honestly don’t know,” she admitted. “Lucien is…different now. Not the man I remember, but perhaps someone I could come to care for just as deeply.”
“And Axton?” Valora prompted.
“He’s been a steadfast friend,” Courtney said carefully. “He helped me through some of my darkest days after Lucien was presumed dead. He’s kind, thoughtful, and straightforward about his intentions.”
“Unlike some men we could mention,” Claire muttered.
Lauren bristled slightly. “My brother’s circumstances are hardly typical. He lost his memory, Claire. It’s not as if he intentionally abandoned Courtney.”
“No, just unintentionally fell in love with someone else, fathered a child, and then announced an engagement to Farah the moment he returned to London,” Claire countered, then immediately looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, Courtney. That was unkind.”
“But not entirely inaccurate,” Courtney acknowledged with a wry smile. “Though to be fair, the engagement to Farah was merely to protect her reputation after it came to light that she’d accompanied Rockwell to Ireland unchaperoned.”
“How scandalously convenient,” Valora remarked, arching an elegant eyebrow.
“Valora,” Ivy admonished.
“What? I’m only saying what everyone’s thinking. The whole situation is extraordinary. Like something from a Jane Austen novel.”
“Life rarely follows the neat patterns of fiction,” Ashley observed quietly. “People make mistakes, hearts change, circumstances intervene. What matters is how we face what comes next.”
The wisdom in her words settled over the group. Courtney found herself nodding. “That’s precisely it. I can’t change what’s happened, but I can decide how to proceed. And right now, that means taking time to know who Lucien is now, while also keeping my heart…cautious.”
“Very sensible,” Lauren approved. “Though I hope you don’t mind my saying that I’d be delighted to call you sister one day. I always thought you and Lucien perfectly suited, even before…everything.”
Courtney squeezed her hand gratefully. “You’re very kind. And I’ve always adored you, Lauren. Whatever happens with your brother, that won’t change.”
“So, you’re truly considering traveling to Dorset with them?” Ivy asked, eyes wide. “That seems rather significant.”
“Only if Julian and Serena will be with us as chaperones,” Courtney clarified quickly. “And it will be good for me to spend time with Ava-Marie and Lucien away from London’s prying eyes.”
“Ah yes, the child,” Claire said, her tone softening. “What is she like?”
“Wonderful,” Courtney replied without hesitation. “Spirited, curious, unaffected by society’s rules. She has Lucien’s eyes and his directness. She’s quite enchanting, actually.”
“And you don’t find it difficult?” Ashley asked gently. “Caring for the child he had with another woman?”
The question gave Courtney pause. In truth, she’d struggled with that initially.
She had to face the stark evidence that Lucien had loved someone else, built a life without her.
But from the moment Ava-Marie had thrust those cherry blossoms into her hands, eyes bright with innocent generosity, she’d been unable to hold the child or Lucien responsible for circumstances beyond her control.
“I love her for herself,” she said finally. “She’s not responsible for the past. And she’s suffered losses too—her mother, her home in Ireland.”
“You have a generous heart, Court,” Valora said, her usual teasing manner subdued. “Not many women would be so understanding.”
“Understanding, yes. But foolish? I hope not.” Courtney sighed.
“That’s why I’m proceeding cautiously. I need to be certain of what I want before making any decisions.
And perhaps Tiffany’s investments can earn enough money for Lauren that Lucien could take his time and find a woman he really wants rather than one he just needs. ”
“I don’t believe he’s paying you attention just because he needs you,” Ashley said. “There are plenty of rich mothers looking for a man of his social standing to marry their daughters to. He could take an easier path.” Ashley shook her head. “No. He is drawn to you, Court.”