Chapter 10 #3
I, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything I enjoyed as much as dancing with Lord Brookhaven in this moment. Although my fear of making a serious misstep did detract a bit from my enjoyment.
But then, halfway through the dance, he reached for my gloved hands and his fingers stroked my bare arm—unintentionally, of course. In that moment, the way he looked at me . . . no one had ever gazed at me so intensely. My arm tingled, and I seemed to be lost in those unfathomable eyes.
A moment before, I had struggled to decipher what he was thinking. Was I insane to think I now could feel his emotions, the depth of his thoughts? I could even imagine that he loved me.
I was flooded with a joy so intense it was almost painful. But maybe the pain was only from knowing that he couldn’t possibly love me, and I couldn’t escape this unrequited love I felt for him. It was as thrilling as it was sobering, but falling in love with him was as inevitable as my next breath.
Indeed, thinking about how much each day revolved around whether I saw him and talked with him, I’d probably been falling in love with him since that first evening when he’d related his childhood memory of running into a tree.
The music ended too soon. My heart was in my throat as he squeezed my hand, bowed, then turned away before I could enjoy how close he was to me.
I felt bereft and overwhelmed with joy, and everything in between those two emotions, all at once. Dear Lord, please don’t let it show on my face.
The next dance was with Lord Markeley, who seemed a bit tipsy, having brought from dinner a glass of what I presumed was a spirit with high alcohol content.
He stumbled during the dance, nearly stepping on my toes, and leaned heavily on my arm while we waited our turn.
I was praying we would make it through the song.
Lord Brookhaven was staring sharply at us, ignoring Miss Rutledge. When it ended, Lord Brookhaven said, almost scowling, “That’s enough dancing for this evening.”
Lord Markeley let out a rather loud hiccup.
“Darling,” Lady Rutledge said to her daughter as she stood up and moved away from the pianoforte, “why don’t you play something?”
Rose Rutledge went to the instrument and began to play and sing while everyone else found a seat.
Again, I was impressed by her talent. I’d once aspired to play well, but alas, I didn’t have the patience to sit and practice for hours every day after my schoolwork was done. I soon accepted that I was destined to only play “a little.”
As we listened to the music, Millicent looked happier than I’d ever seen her. I suddenly suspected that Lord Brookhaven had invited Millicent to the party specifically for me, knowing that we’d both be the outsiders of the group.
Tears stung my eyes. How good and kind he was. But why? He couldn’t care for me in a romantic sense. Yet, it seemed too much for an earl to condescend with so much kindness toward his governess, a girl of no family and no fortune at all. It was too much even for Lord Brookhaven.
Trays of tea and biscuits were brought, likely with Lord Markeley in mind, to sober him up a bit.
The servant who brought them glanced at me.
Her face was drawn, and she had dark smudges under her eyes, and I knew it was well past her usual bedtime.
She quickly left the room, and I felt a pang of pity for her before remembering that she had snubbed me the last two Sundays, giving me a pointed look of disdain before whispering to her companion behind her hand, then giggling as they rushed past me.
No doubt she would hate me even more by next Lord’s Day.
I sipped my cup of tea while we listened to Miss Rutledge. When the song ended, we clapped as politely as we would have if she had not sang well and played excellently. That was the way of society. It was always polite. Until one was unfortunate enough to fall out of favor with society.
Lord Markeley was leaning back against the cushions of his chair, looking as if he might be about to fall asleep. At least he wasn’t drinking any more strong spirits.
We were quiet, probably all trying to think of some safe subject of conversation, when Lord Brookhaven asked, “Would you all like to play a game of pall mall on the lawn tomorrow?”
“Oh yes!” Millicent said.
“If the weather is fair,” Lord Brookhaven added, his gaze fastening on mine.
“As long as we can play competitively,” Lord Markeley said.
“I agree,” Mr. Merritt said. “I once hit a young lady’s ball into the trees and she cried. Her mama looked as if she could murder me. The rest of the afternoon was not very pleasant.”
Lord Markeley laughed, a cynical look on his face.
“Then we shall warn everyone that the game shall be played in the most cutthroat manner, and there are to be no tears.” Lord Brookhaven’s face was unreadable, his voice deep and even.
I had to stifle my laugh behind my hand.
“Absolutely no crying allowed.” Lord Brookhaven gave me a pointed look.
“Of course.” I smiled. I fancied I saw the corner of his mouth quirk upward.
“I can certainly be competitive if I must,” Millicent was saying. “And I should hope I won’t cry over a silly game of pall mall.”
Neither of us would cry, especially now that we knew it wasn’t permitted, but in truth, I was glad they made that stipulation. I could be very competitive myself.
Rose Rutledge played another song, then declared that she would let someone else play. “Miss Allen?” Rose said. “Are you well enough to come and play?”
“I don’t know.” She stuck her bottom lip out slightly.
“Try to stand on it,” her mother said.
Lord Brookhaven and Mr. Merritt helped her stand, and she tried her weight on it.
“I think I can walk,” she said. “But I should like to go up to my room now.”
Everyone else decided to retire for the evening as well, and so I realized I could go too.
“Shall we go for a walk in the morning?” Millicent whispered as we parted from each other on the staircase landing.
I nodded, and as I turned to go to my room, caught Lord Brookhaven’s eye.
“Good night, Miss Robbins,” he said.
“Sleep well,” I answered and continued up the stairs to the servants’ quarters on the next floor.