Chapter 19
Vauxhall Gardens was, in Estella's considered opinion, an assault on the senses.
Thousands of oil lamps hung from the trees in glittering rows, turning the Grand Walk into a corridor of gold. Music drifted from the orchestra pavilion, bright and soaring, and it mingled with laughter and the clink of glasses from the supper boxes.
The air smelled of roasted ham, damp earth, and the faintest trace of gunpowder from the fireworks being prepared somewhere beyond the tree line.
It was beautiful. But more than a little overwhelming.
Truthfully, Estella was having a difficult time appreciating any of it, because approximately ninety percent of her attention was fixed on the tall, dark-haired man standing fifty feet away who was doing an excellent impression of a man who hadn't noticed her arrival.
But Sebastian had clocked her arrival, she was absolutely sure of it.
The question was, did his feigned ignorance indicate he had feelings for her or did he not? For all Thea’s talk about hypotheses and controlled experiments, the reality was far more difficult to decipher.
For example, at this precise moment, Sebastian stood near one of the supper boxes the duchess had secured, speaking with a gentleman Estella didn't recognize.
His posture was rigid, his expression forbidding, and his gaze was aimed with great deliberation at a point roughly six inches to the left of where Estella was standing.
She knew this because she was watching him in the same determined way that he was not watching her.
"You're staring, dear." Thea appeared at her elbow with two glasses of arrack punch. She pressed one into Estella's hand.
"I'm observing, like you told me to." Estella took the glass. "There's a difference."
"Is there? You've been observing him since the carriage pulled up. Your neck is going to cramp."
Estella dragged her gaze away and took a sip of the punch. It was sweeter than she'd expected, with a tartness underneath that made her nose wrinkle. "Where's the duchess?"
"Holding court in the supper box. She's been introduced to a baroness who breeds spaniels, and I believe they may never stop talking." Thea glanced across the walk. "Mr. Gage is here."
Estella followed Thea's gaze. Sure enough, the gaming hell proprietor was leaning against a tree some distance away, speaking with friends, and looking thoroughly at ease. He caught them looking and raised his glass with that crooked grin of his.
"Miss Hale!" Lord Alderton approached with a broad smile that felt far less wicked than Mr. Gage’s.
Lord Alderton looked as pleasant and well-groomed as he always did as he gave a small bow. "What a fine evening. The Gardens are quite spectacular, are they not?"
"They are indeed." Estella smiled at him, and the smile was genuine. She liked Lord Alderton. That had never been the problem.
Thea made some excuse and headed back toward the duchess and her entourage. Alderton offered his arm. "Would you care to walk? The South Walk is meant to be particularly lovely."
She took his arm, and they fell into an easy stride along the lamplit path.
Alderton made pleasant conversation. He pointed out the cascade, a painted spectacle at the far end of the walk that drew crowds every evening. He told her about his first visit to Vauxhall as a boy, and then about how his daughter reacted when he took her to a traveling fair.
She laughed at his stories, and they walked on. But all the while, she was keenly aware that Sebastian was tracking their progress from behind.
He’d followed them. She couldn't see him, but she could feel it. That specific prickle of heat that had become as familiar as her own heartbeat.
It was with this knowledge that she… Well, she began to perform. Her smile was a smidge brighter, her laugh a touch louder. And yes, she may have shifted just a little closer to Lord Alderton.
After a little while, Lord Alderton stopped, so she did too.
"Miss Hale…" Lord Alderton’s voice was gentle and slightly different in tone. "May I be frank with you?"
"Of course," she said. But her stomach tightened. The shift in his manner set her off-balance.
Perhaps she’d gone too far in her act. A niggle of guilt had her biting her bottom lip. Perhaps she’d given Alderton the wrong impression. What if he took her smiles and laughter to heart? Oh dear. What if he asked for her hand, or—
"You are a remarkable woman, Miss Hale." He turned to face her. "I hope you know that. This Season has been immeasurably brighter for your company."
The words were so kind but only made Estella’s anxiety increase. She didn’t have to look back to know that Sebastian was following their every movement. But that was not her immediate concern.
Oh drat, she’d been so solely focused on her own desires, she hadn’t taken Alderton’s feelings into consideration. "Lord Alderton, I ought to explain."
"But I suspect…" He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "The gentleman you're hoping to impress this evening is not me."
The punch glass nearly slipped from her fingers. Heat flooded her cheeks. "I—that's not—I haven't been—"
"Please." He smiled, and her stammering died in her throat. "You needn't explain. I recognize the look."
"The look?"
"My late wife had it." His eyes softened with memory.
"When we were courting. She'd be speaking with another, perfectly attentive, perfectly charming.
And her gaze would drift to whatever corner of the room I happened to be standing in.
She couldn't help it. She told me later that she'd tried very hard not to look.
" He paused. "She failed spectacularly."
Estella's throat grew tight. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize, to tell him she hadn't meant to be unkind, that she genuinely valued his company.
"I must admit, while my wife might have occasionally let her gaze turn my way, I was far more foolish.
" His smile turned wry as he reminisced.
"I made an utter fool of myself chasing after her everywhere she went.
If she so much as smiled at another man, I felt the sudden urge to fight the poor chap. "
He laughed, and Estella found herself smiling at the warm sound. But when he turned back to her, that shame came back. "I am sorry, Lord Alderton. I won’t deny my attention has been…elsewhere. But I did not mean to—"
"Miss Hale, please do not apologize." In the golden lamplight, his expression was entirely without rancor. "I am not wounded. I promise you that. I've enjoyed our acquaintance enormously, and I hope we shall remain friends."
"I would like that," she managed. "Very much."
"Good." His smile widened, and a glint of mischief appeared that she'd never seen from him before. "And if it would be useful, I'm happy to continue playing my part this evening."
She blinked. "Your part?"
He leaned closer, dropping his voice. "Blackwood has been glaring at me since you took my arm." A pause. "I confess I find it rather entertaining."
A startled laugh escaped her. Alderton's grin turned delighted. "Shall we give him something to really worry about?"
Estella pressed her lips together, but she just barely stifled a delighted laugh. "Lord Alderton. Are you suggesting we conspire to make the Marquess of Blackwood jealous?"
"I'm suggesting we take a turn along the Grand Walk, and I lean in to share an amusing observation, and you laugh as though I've said the wittiest remark you’ve ever heard." He offered his arm again with exaggerated gallantry.
They continued their stroll, and Alderton delivered a fine performance. He leaned in close and whispered that the ham in the supper boxes was, by all accounts, inedible, and that the arrack punch tasted like someone had dissolved sugar in turpentine.
She didn’t have to force a laugh. It came naturally, and her smile was genuine when she tipped her face up to respond.
She felt a great deal more at ease knowing she wasn't leading Alderton on. He was a willing partner in this venture, and his amusement was genuine. She was simply allowing herself to be bright and easy and warm in the company of a man who appreciated it.
She let Alderton guide her toward the orchestra and paused to admire the music. She accepted his arm for the walk back toward the supper boxes, and she didn't once look in Sebastian's direction.
That was the hardest part, actually. Not looking. Every instinct screamed at her to check, to see if it was working, to gauge his reaction. But she’d give herself away if he caught her looking.
So she kept her eyes on Alderton, and she touched his arm when she made a point. She was having a fine time with it—until a shadow fell between them.
A voice she knew well said, "Miss Hale. The duchess requires your presence."
Sebastian stood at her elbow. He'd appeared with his usual alarming silence, and he was not looking at Alderton. He was looking at her, and his expression might have been carved from granite were it not for the muscle jumping in his jaw.
Estella glanced toward the supper box. The duchess was deep in conversation, her back turned, showing no sign whatsoever of requiring anyone.
"Does she?" Estella said mildly.
Sebastian's gaze flickered, just barely, toward the supper box. A beat of silence. "She mentioned it earlier."
She smiled. "How thoughtful of you to pass along the message."
Beside her, Alderton cleared his throat.
"I'll leave you to it, Miss Hale." Alderton's voice was admirably steady, though when Estella glanced at him, the corner of his mouth was twitching.
He bowed to her, inclined his head to Sebastian with what she could only describe as extremely polite amusement, and withdrew.
She watched Alderton go, and then turned to Sebastian. They stood at the edge of the Grand Walk, half in lamplight and half in shadow. The music from the orchestra swelled, something sweet and slow.
"The duchess isn't asking for me," she said.
"No."