Chapter 6
“I have heard of it.” Nora considered that. “But I had thought you were in imports.”
“That is our sister company, Byrnes he eagerly accepted any light words and compliments, but drifting into more overt actions caused him to falter.
Yes, this Mr. Hatcher was a flirt of the highest order, but anything more was unacceptable.
Nora stifled a laugh and focused on the conversation as it continued on safer ground, their words light once more, his responses as ready as before, the warmth in them undiminished. He smiled, he answered, he followed where she led without hesitation.
Until she did it again.
A glance held too long. A step that brought her nearer than the dance required.
The faintest tilt of her head as she regarded him, her attention fixed wholly upon him in a way that left no room for the rest of the room.
Again, that brief, involuntary tightening, as though he were caught unawares before recovering his composure.
And even when the dance ended, Mr. Hatcher did not relinquish his place at her side as they walked along the edge of the ballroom.
How long was he willing to play this game?
The question was more intriguing than Adèle’s adventure, for it was clear the novel would end with its heroine achieving her happy ending.
But Mr. Hatcher was a mystery.
“It is so warm,” Nora said at last, her tone light, though her gaze did not quite leave his. “I believe I should like a breath of air.”
Mr. Hatcher inclined his head at once, though there was the faintest pause before he offered his arm and guided her through the crush to the front doors, which led out onto the street.
The press of bodies gave way to space, the music softening behind them as they stepped out onto the pavement, where the night air lay cool against her skin.
The park at the center of the square remained open for the guests to enjoy, and they moved along the gravel path at an easy pace.
Within the enclosure, the air smelled faintly of damp leaves, crushed grass, and the sweetness of spring flowers, all softened by the cooler breath of evening.
A tiny landscape trapped in the crush of the city.
The rain that afternoon had cleared the fog, allowing the faint glow of moonlight to peek above the rooftops that edged the square, and a carriage rolled past along one side, its lamps briefly flashing between the trees before passing into the city beyond.
There were figures here and there, scattered along the park’s edge, but none near enough to note their conversation, and Nora couldn’t help chuckling about the odd turn: it wasn’t the usual way of things for a lady to be luring a gentleman into a secluded area during a ball.
“I must confess, Miss Eden,” he said after a moment, “this has been a most agreeable evening. I hadn’t expected to find such an engaging partner, but you have managed to make it memorable.”
The words were simple. Meant lightly. But Nora saw the opportunity.
“Mr. Hatcher, you cannot imagine how pleased I am to hear you say so. Then you do not regret this time we’ve had together?”
Holding her breath, she waited, hoping he would say the words that far too many flirts tossed about.
“Yes, quite,” he said with a nod.
Nora considered how to respond and added, “I am sorry that the evening is coming to a close.”
Nodding, Mr. Hatcher seized upon that and stepped fully into her trap. “I wish it could last forever.”
“Do you mean it?” she asked with a bright smile that grew as confusion sharpened in his gaze.
“Of course,” he added, his tone hesitant. “But this needn’t mark the end of our acquaintance.”
Nora slowed, her hand tightening upon his arm as she turned to him with sudden brightness, her expression lifting as though he had offered her something far more meaningful than a passing compliment.
A soft laugh escaped her, quick and unguarded, her gaze fixed upon his with an intensity that far exceeded the moment.
“Such wonderful news!” Nora beamed and took his hand in hers. “I can hardly believe it, Mr. Hatcher. You must speak to Papa.”
The gentleman’s brows rose at that announcement, clearly sensing something was afoot, though he couldn’t see the trap wrapped around his ankle. How quickly would he chew the limb off?
“I would welcome the opportunity, of course,” he said.
“Well, we needn’t wait until tomorrow if that is the case,” she said, dragging him back the way they’d come. “You may speak with him at this very moment if you are so keen to settle everything.”
Mr. Hatcher made an odd noise. Something of a half-formed word and a vague sound steeped in confusion. “My brother would wish to be there—”
“You wish to introduce me to your family?” she said, spinning in place and facing him with a grin. Throwing her arms around him, Nora held tight. “What a perfect evening! I had all but lost my faith in men, and then you appear like a wish made manifest. I have never been happier.”
There was no mistaking the tension thrumming through the fellow, for every muscle was strung taut. Even his breathing halted, and Nora released him so that she could lean back and see the expression on his face. And it did not disappoint.
For all that Mr. Hatcher clearly possessed all the skills required of a society gentleman, his eyes were wide and gleamed with the sort of panic reserved for those moments in life when one realized (a heartbeat too late) that one’s fate was sealed.
Like being tossed from a fractious mount; the rider holds fast to the reins, certain they have the upper hand, only to have the horse rear, the momentum tearing them from the saddle.
And Nora couldn’t help but add, “I came to this ball expecting tedious conversations and mediocre dance partners, and came away with a beau. I can hardly believe it!”
“I—” Mr. Hatcher began, though his words stuttered. “Beau?”