Chapter 31
Dorothy retreated to the library in the interest of getting some distance from Nathaniel.
The fire was unlit and the room was chilly.
Clearly, their host had not anticipated that guests would come here, and for a moment Dorothy considered leaving.
But she needed the break. She had been so vigilant from the moment she had arrived, so alert to the possibility of Nathaniel’s presence.
And he had thwarted her best efforts and found her anyway.
She reached up and fumbled with the ties of her mask, wanting to take it off, but at the last moment she hesitated. Removing the mask would feel too much like accepting failure, admitting that she was incapable of distancing herself from Nathaniel.
She slumped into a chair and stared into the empty fireplace.
How long could she get away with sitting in here on her own?
How long would be reasonable to wait before hoping that the party might begin to die down?
She wanted nothing more than to leave. It had been a mistake to come here in the first place.
It had all gone so wrong so quickly. Already, she’d fallen into the trap of accepting a dance with Nathaniel.
She should have told him no when he had asked!
The whole time they had spent on the dance floor had been so awkward and uncomfortable, and Dorothy had needed to keep her eyes away from him in order to maintain her equilibrium.
Then he had waylaid her when she had tried to escape to the garden, and she had realized that he was intent on following her around for the rest of the evening.
Even then, it had been all she could do to make herself walk away.
It was infuriating to feel so much for a man. Especially knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of them.
He is going to marry, and I never will, and that’s the end of it. There’s no reason to think on the matter any further than that.
Just then, she heard the creak of the door opening behind her and the sound of footsteps. Startled, she whirled to face the new arrival.
Her heart dropped. She should have known. She should have expected. Of course it was him.
Nathaniel stood in the doorway. He’d removed his mask, and she could see the irritation etched on his face.
Her heart pounded, and her stomach was in turmoil.
She feared that his anger was at her. She longed to comfort him, to discover what was agitating him and offer some way of soothing him.
She wanted, also, to lash out at him. She had been angry with him before he had come in here, and there was no reason his mood ought to have the power to erase her own.
“Did you follow me?” she managed.
He folded his arms. “Did you run from me?”
“I told you. I told you that I wasn’t feeling well, and that I needed a moment to myself. A moment to sit down, away from people. Is that a crime?”
“You’re not ill,” he said. “I saw the way you were behaving on the dance floor.”
“What was wrong with my behavior?” Her face grew hot. “I was only dancing.”
“There was nothing wrong,” he said. “Nothing wrong at all. You were full of energy. Enjoying yourself thoroughly. So I can’t realistically believe that you’re suddenly ill when it was abundantly clear during that dance that you were fine.”
“You were watching me,” she realized.
It was Nathaniel’s turn to go red in the face. He said nothing.
“Why were you watching me?” she asked, not entirely sure that she wanted to know the answer. Was it possible that any answer to that question could be something she would like?
He hesitated for a long moment, and she had the impression he was trying to decide what to say. “I wasn’t watching you,” he said at last.
“You were!”
“I was watching that scoundrel you were with.” His face darkened. “He was rude and disrespectful, interrupting us in the middle of our conversation the way he did.”
“He didn’t, though,” Dorothy protested. “It was Violet who came up on his behalf and interjected.”
“Yes, well, she did so at his behest. He should have told her to wait until you were on your own. That would have been the decent thing to do.”
“I see,” Dorothy said, crossing her arms, seizing upon her anger for the simple fact that it was the easiest of her emotions to deal with. “So, if you’re talking to me, no one else is permitted to talk to me until you’re finished? Is that it?”
“You know that isn’t what I said.”
“It sounds like it to me. You were staring at me the whole time I was dancing because you were so angry that someone had the audacity to speak to me when you were speaking to me first. That’s what I heard, Nathaniel.”
“Well, it’s a matter of simple courtesy not to interrupt another gentleman’s conversation,” he said.
“Take it up with him, then,” Dorothy snapped. “If you were watching us so closely, then you must be able to recall what he looked like and find him again. It doesn’t explain why you’re following me around like this.”
“I just wanted to finish our conversation where no one else could interrupt.” His voice was a growl now. “I just wanted to be able to speak to the person I wanted to speak to without anyone else getting in the way.”
Dorothy felt exhausted, all at once. It was so difficult to maintain anger with Nathaniel.
There were too many good times, too many good memories.
It was too easy to look at him and see the man she had picnicked with, the man she had come so close to defeating at chess.
The man she had instructed in how to flirt with ladies and completely lost herself with.
The truth is that if we were free to do whatever we liked, I would have loved to spend my time with him this evening.
She could hardly bear to look at him. Even now, when he was angry, there was a softness in his gaze that made her want to approach him with kindness instead of recriminations. Even now, she wanted to be his friend.
But we can’t be friends. We just can’t.
She owed him an explanation, though—or, at least, she was beginning to see that she wouldn’t be able to break away from him without providing one.
He wasn’t going to let her go and keep his attention on Lady Amanda, as she’d hoped he would.
He was going to keep trying to spend time with her.
She had to let him know why that wasn’t all right, why it wasn’t going to work for either one of them.
She let her arms fall to her sides. “You can’t keep doing this, Nathaniel,” she said quietly.
“I can’t keep doing what?”
“You can’t keep following me. Spending all your time with me. Seeking me out like this. It’s not appropriate any longer. You and I shouldn’t have shared a dance today either, for that matter. You’re meant to be courting Lady Amanda.”
“I’m not courting her,” Nathaniel countered. “Not yet.”
“And you never will be if she sees you fixating on me all the time,” she said.
“She’s going to think that there’s something between you and me, Nathaniel.
She won’t understand that we’re only friends.
She’ll think it’s something more. You know how many people think that already.
Anyone would think it. You have to stop. ”
He was staring at her, his gaze locked to hers. “I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t have this conversation with a butterfly. Take off the mask.”
She took a small step back. “What? No.”
“I took mine off. Go on. I want to see your face while I speak to you.”
“It’s a masquerade, Nathaniel. We’re not supposed to.”
“There’s nobody else here. And since when did you worry over what you’re supposed to do?” Nathaniel took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of them. “Go on,” he said, his voice low. “Take it off.”
She couldn’t. The mask was the last semblance of a barrier between the two of them. She felt protected by it, even if only in a small way. She couldn’t remove it.
But now his hands were rising to her face, and she didn’t move away as he reached around to pull at the laces securing the mask to her face. She stood frozen, allowing it to happen.
Wanting it to happen.
Wanting her bare cheek exposed so that he might graze it with his thumb again.
“May I?” he whispered.
She nodded, helpless.
The mask fell away into his hands, and he cradled it as he stood there, regarding her, waiting to see what would happen next. Or perhaps he knew. Perhaps it was she who was waiting.
The entire world seemed to shrink down to his gaze, fixed upon her. He was so close. And now he was leaning toward her, just as he had the last time she had been at his home, and this time…
This time I won’t pull away. I don’t even want to.
Instead, she found herself leaning closer. Consenting. Inviting.
Wanting.
His lips met hers, and it felt inevitable.
She melted into him, his strong arms and the unfamiliar and exciting scent of him.
The scratch of his cheek, the surprising softness and gentleness of his lips…
she forgot everything. She forgot that she had intended to stay away from him, that she needed to stay away from him, that this was a terrible and destructive idea…
all that mattered was this intoxicating moment. This kiss.
His hands were on her waist, the back of her neck, gentle but firm and pulling her closer to him.
She went willingly, bending in response to his touch, allowing herself to be his.
Whatever happened next could be dealt with later.
For once in her life, she would live in the thrill of the moment and allow it to sweep her away.
She wouldn’t worry about the consequences. Just this once.
And then she heard the sound of the door opening.
Even then, knowing they were caught, she didn’t pull away. As if she had been discovered with her hand in a cookie jar, she just kept going, for there was no taking back what had been done, and before everything fell apart she would claim one more exquisite moment of bliss for herself…
A familiar gasp. “Dorothy!”
That was Agnes’ voice.
A pair of arms that did not belong to Nathaniel encircled her and began to hurry her away. Dorothy allowed herself to be ferried through a crowd of people, all of whom were staring, many of whom drew back as though afraid to get the stain of her scandal on them.
It didn’t matter. All she could think about was his kiss.