Chapter 7
Two weeks later
George walked into Lord and Lady Falconer’s ballroom, his hands behind his back and his head held high as he surveyed the crowd.
He had been out at an occasion nearly every evening for the last fortnight and had not had any true enjoyment at any of them.
At every one, he had found his gaze searching the crowd for a face other than the one he was meant to be looking for.
And each time, when he had seen her, he had been forced to turn away.
I was the one who told her we must be as strangers, he reminded himself, scowling. I am the one who said that there could be nothing but friendship between us.
He stood there for some minutes, looking out at everyone but saying nothing to a single soul. There was nothing in him that wanted to speak, nothing that he desired to say. His thoughts were much too heavy.
“Lord Surrey! You did not come to find me as quickly as I have sought to find you.”
Starting at the sharp tone of Miss Burnley’s voice, George looked at her with a frown. “Good evening, Miss Burnley. I have only just arrived.”
“And yet you have stood here for some minutes!” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing just a little as she put her hands to her waist. “We are meant to be courting, are we not?”
George gritted his teeth. Whilst Miss Burnley could be charming whenever she wished to be, there was a selfishness and a sharpness to her that he did not much like. “You know very well what the arrangement is.”
“Then you ought to be pursuing me,” she pouted, her hands falling to her sides. “It should be apparent to the ton that you are very interested in my company, that you want nothing more than to be with me whenever you can be! And that means – ”
“That means that I shall do just as I please and just as I think best,” George interrupted, making her lips thin and flatten together. “Whilst I value your thoughts, Miss Burnley, I will not be held to them.”
She lifted her chin a notch, her eyes glittering. “You disappoint me, Lord Surrey,” she said, as George looked away from her. “Anyone would think that you do not much like my company.”
“If you continue to speak to me in such a manner, then I can assure you that there will be not even the smallest measure of amicability between us,” George said, growing weary of her complaints.
“I had every intention of coming to find you and to make sure my name was on your dance card. You simply did not give me enough time.”
Her face whitened with what George presumed to be anger, given the way her eyes flickered with shards of ice.
He said nothing more, waiting for her to respond to him and relieved that this conversation, at least, was taking place in public, which meant she would have to do her best to be tempered in her response.
“Miss Burnley!”
Another voice broke between them, and George watched as, in a single, smooth movement, Miss Burnley became a smiling, bright-eyed young lady who appeared both calm and happy. “Lord Pentland, good evening.”
“I am very sorry indeed to have to steal you away from Lord Surrey’s company, but it is our dance,” the gentleman smiled, giving George a nod. “Might we step out?”
“But of course, I should be delighted.” With a glance at George, a glance that told him of her unhappiness at his less than eager manner, Miss Burnley took Lord Pentland’s arm and allowed him to lead her to the floor.
George breathed out a long sigh of relief.
“For someone who is meant to be courting Miss Burnley, you appear to be quite pleased at her absence.”
Wincing, George shook his friend’s hand. “Good evening, Dorset.” Changing the subject quickly, he looked about him. “I presume your wife and sister are both present this evening also?”
“They are indeed!” Lord Dorset replied with a grin. “I do hope you intend to dance this evening, Surrey, for my sister was very eager to step out with you again.” His head tilted. “Although mayhap your preference will be to give your best dances to Miss Burnley?”
With only a grimace on his face, George said nothing by way of explanation for this.
Instead, he only looked back out at the crowd, his stomach twisting as he felt rather than saw his friend’s curiosity.
It seemed very strange to him to be courting a young lady whom he felt nothing for.
She could be kind when she wished to be, but there was a coldness to her manner that he did not like.
Neither did he think that there was any sort of interest in him either, not really.
Whilst she smiled and took his arm and walked with him, danced on occasion, and spoke to him whenever they took tea together, Miss Burnley’s eyes did not warm with delight whenever she set eyes upon him.
There was no delighted smile at his arrival, no flush of pink in her cheeks when he drew near.
That, he recalled, had come when he had been in company with Miss Williams, and he had the very same feelings even still!
But no, he could not think of her, not now.
He had to concentrate on Miss Burnley for she was his future, whether he wished for it or not.
“You are going to tell me nothing?” Lord Dorset sounded a little affronted. “Come now, man! We are friends, are we not? I am trustworthy, as I must hope you know, so why will you not speak to me about all that the ton is speaking of?”
George scowled. “The ton will speak about anything that captures their interest.”
“And your courting of Miss Burnley has caught their interest, for she is only a Viscount’s daughter – and not a very well-known viscount at that – and you are an Earl. One might have expected you to marry the daughter of an Earl or perhaps even the daughter of a Marquess!”
With a shrug, George kept his gaze away from his friend. “I have no particular thought as to a lady’s title, I must confess.”
“Then you have been captured by her beauty?”
George chewed the inside of his lip. He did not like to lie, but nor did he like his friend’s persistent questions. “Something like that.”
Lord Dorset did not much take to that response. His brows pulled low, his jaw set tight, and with a heavy frown on his face, he took a step closer to George. “You are not telling me the truth, my friend.”
“Do I need to?” George tried to keep his tone light. “There is nothing more to say, not really. I have spoken to her father about courting the lady, and he has agreed. That is all.”
“And this all when you had only become just acquainted?”
George shot him a dark look.
“The ton know many things,” Lord Dorset persisted, as George rolled his eyes.
“They are well aware that you only met with her father once before beginning your courtship, and some are saying that you did not even know the lady herself!” He put a hand on George’s shoulder for a second or two, his expression now one of concern.
“I want you to know that I am here to speak with you, should you ever want some advice. If this match is not one of your choosing or the like, then – ”
His friend’s voice faded as George caught sight of Miss Williams. She had only just come into the ballroom with her brother, but upon seeing someone she recognized, quickly hurried forward.
Seeing the smile that alighted on her face, George’s heart constricted in his chest, recalling just how often that very same smile had been sent up towards him.
I wish it could still.
“Surrey?”
Jolting, George put his gaze directly back towards Lord Dorset. “Yes?”
“You did not hear a word I said just now, did you?” Lord Dorset snorted and folded his arms over his chest. “You are quite mysterious, I must admit. You begin to court a lady that you have not even been introduced to, and when I speak with you about it, you say very little and then become distracted by someone who is not the lady you court!”
A flush poured heat into George’s cheeks, and he looked away from Miss Williams and straight into the knowing face of Lord Dorset. “I do not know what you mean.”
Lord Dorset rolled his eyes obviously. “You and I are going to Whites after this ball,” he said, firmly, “and you will explain everything to me. I think, for even your own sanity, you must do so. I will not stop questioning you until you do so, my friend, so you may as well agree.” A gleam came into his eye as George scowled.
“And there is nothing wrong with asking Miss Williams to dance, even if you are courting another.”
Hating that he had been very obvious in his interest, George deepened his scowl, but his friend only smiled, making his embarrassment grow furiously.
“Why do you not court her?” Lord Dorset’s smile faded as George ran one hand over his chin. "I confess, I am surprised that you would think to court another young lady when you have such an interest in someone else. That does not seem like you.”
“I have no choice.”
The words were out of George’s mouth before he could prevent them from escaping. Lord Dorset’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline, but George held up one hand to him, palm out.
“I will not explain now,” he said, quickly, pre-empting any questions from his friend. “Excuse me.”
The embarrassment that had been in his chest now grew to such a height that it felt as if every part of his body was burning.
There was every good reason in the world for him not to approach Miss Williams, but his steps took him towards her without even hesitating, his heart yearning to be in her company again despite the fact that he knew he ought to stay far from her.
“Lord Surrey, good evening.”
She turned to look at him, speaking before he had the chance.
The cool, unwelcoming smile on her face tore at him, and he cleared his throat gruffly, wondering what it was he was doing here.
Had he not been the one to tell her that things between them were at an end?
That they ought to be nothing more than strangers to one another?
Why, then, had he given in to his own desire and come to ask her to dance?