Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A melia hovered at the edge of the dance floor, her fingers twisted tightly together. She kept smiling and nodding at acquaintances but she had no idea what anyone was talking about. All she could think about was whether Ash had arrived. Her dance card was quickly filling up but the supper waltz was still available. She wouldn’t save it. She had promised herself that. To do so would be to admit that she wanted to spend prolonged time with Ash, and she still wasn’t ready to admit that, even to herself. But even as she swore to herself that she would stick to that oath, she moved around the ballroom, quickly bypassing a couple of men she knew would happily be her dance partners for that particular time of the evening.
She glanced at the wide ballroom doors and sighed softly. The ball had been going for an hour and she had yet to set eyes on Ash. She’d let herself get swept up in the funny, charming letters he’d been sending, believing that he would come tonight and that they would dance together. Once again, she’d let her romantic side take over her sensibilities and to what end? Yes, Ash made her body feel things she had long since thought she would never experience again, things that made her want to fling herself at him in the manner of a lurid gothic novel, but she did not think it wise to act on it, and sighing over his lack of appearance at this ball made her a nitwit.
Now that she had started, though, she did not know how to step back from Ash. She’d promised herself she would not write to him and had done so immediately. Then she’d convinced herself that she would not send her return letter whilst seeking out a servant to run it down the road for her. Then she’d repeated the behaviour again and again with every letter she had received. She was like one of those men who couldn’t stop gambling even as they watched their entire fortune disappear. She was a hopeless case but if he didn’t come to her tonight, then perhaps she would be cured of whatever this was before it was too late.
She spotted an acquaintance moving towards her with determination and began a slow amble in the opposite direction. She was not in the mood to gossip tonight, not when her emotions were all jumbled inside like wool that had been left unattended and had somehow become ensnared in itself.
And then, suddenly, there was Ash, standing in front of her, his wide shoulders taking up more space than should be possible; her heart pounded so loudly, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it even over the music.
‘Lady Mortram,’ he said, bowing slightly, his eyes glittering with amusement or some other emotion she couldn’t identify. ‘May I?’ He held out his hand for her dance card.
She handed it over without speaking. For some reason, she was at a complete loss as to what to say to him. They’d filled their week with written words and not once had she struggled to think of the content. It should be no different now that he was standing before her, but it was.
He handed the card back to her. She expected some smug comment about having the waltz free but he only smiled down at her and she found herself smiling back. Just standing there, looking at him smiling. Something was happening to her heart. It was as if it was expanding in her chest, almost to the point of pain.
Behind Ash, Amelia saw her first dance partner approach and bit back a groan. She wished she hadn’t been quite so determined to fill up her dance card before Ash arrived. She wouldn’t have agreed to this dance if she had been thinking straight.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Ash. ‘You look as if you have accidentally swallowed a fly.’
She laughed. ‘I am afraid I am going to have to leave you shortly. The next dance is about to begin.’
‘You are not looking forward to it, I assume.’
‘He’s a lovely young man but he is rather enamoured with Sienna. He tends to wax lyrical about her finer points of which, according to him, there are many and various. And while I might sound like an unloving sister, I obviously also think she is a wonderful person but I don’t feel the need to discuss the details for the length of a dance.’
Ash was grinning down at her and butterflies erupted in her stomach. ‘Sienna is forming quite the circle of admirers, then, what with my sisters and the approaching gentleman.’
‘Indeed. We are besieged with flowers from suitors on a daily basis but she has yet to show a preference for any man in particular. Markham—’ she nodded to the tall man who had stopped to talk to an acquaintance ‘—appears to be taking a different route by appealing to me. What I admire in tactics, I despair of in conversation.’
Ash’s smile widened. ‘You are against his suit, then?’
‘On the contrary, I think he is a good match for her, but I do wish I did not have to be involved in the whole thing. If Mama was here she could deal with overenthusiastic young men, but I have to suffer this fate alone.’ She sighed theatrically and he laughed, the sound shooting straight to her soul. She’d meant to amuse him and there was a certain amount of triumph at succeeding. When they were younger, it had been she hanging on his words and not the other way around. This attention was heady and dangerous. She did not want to stop but Markham was on the move again.
‘I will see what I can find out about the man for you. In the meantime, I should warn you that I have put my name down for the waltz and another dance,’ said Ash, nodding towards her dance card.
She should protest. Two dances and he may as well declare his intention to court her but she didn’t. She could have blamed the arrival of Markham but there was enough time to say something and she didn’t. Instead, she allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor by her partner, all the while smiling as if she had been presented with the greatest gift possible.
Her first dance with Ash was a quadrille and there wasn’t much opportunity to talk to him. He must have been having a good evening because a smile didn’t leave his face and, unlike previous evenings when she had spied him across rooms, this looked like a genuine one because his dimples creased. The sight made her smile in return, and when he held her hand she actually laughed. He raised a questioning eyebrow but she only shook her head in reply. She couldn’t explain her mood, either.
She didn’t speak to Ash once that dance was over; there would be time later when they waltzed. He moved to the side of the ballroom and became engrossed in a conversation with Ezra and Adam. Since she had begun to help him with his finances, she’d noticed that Ash had spent a lot less time dancing with eligible women. She was pleased that she had been able to help her old friend from having to do the same as she had and marry for money, and if a small voice pointed out that she was happy for herself, then she shut it down very quickly.
She was surrounded by her friends, all of whom seemed to be responding to her good mood. She laughed more during this ball than she had for the whole season. For the first time she appeared to be living up to her promise to have a carefree time.
Helena was in the middle of an amusing anecdote involving a hat and a determined pigeon when the orchestra began to play the introduction to the waltz. Over her friend’s shoulder she caught sight of Ash cutting his way through the crowds on the way to her.
Her friend glanced backwards and turned back, her eyes alight. ‘James Ashworth and you. Things are progressing between the two of you after all. I told you he was better for you than Stanmere.’
Heat scalded her skin. ‘No. It’s not like that. Ash is an old childhood friend.’
Her friend’s smile widened. ‘Ash,’ she repeated.
‘I told you we grew up together. Everyone called him Ash. It’s too hard now to change to Mr Ashworth. I did try.’
‘I bet you did.’ Helena’s eyebrows waggled.
‘What does that even mean?’
Helena simply laughed in reply, her gaze darting back to Ash, who had stopped to talk to an acquaintance. ‘Oh, I thought you were in a good mood. It turns out widowhood is every bit as enjoyable as implied.’
‘Helena! There is nothing salacious going on.’
‘Then that’s a crying shame. With shoulders like that…’
‘Helena!’ Amelia’s protest sounded weak, which was hardly surprising. Ash did have lovely shoulders.
‘Come now. There is no need to be prudish and…’ Her friend’s smile faltered, before she continued. ‘If there are no consequences…’ She glanced down at Amelia’s stomach. Amelia felt that familiar punch to the gut she experienced when thinking about her motherless state, but as usual, she pushed it to one side. She had come to terms with not becoming a parent a long time ago and did not want to revisit the pain. ‘What could possibly be the harm in enjoying yourself with such a handsome man? It is not as if he is married. There is no woman you would be hurting by taking him as a lover and you would be fulfilling your own plan to enjoy yourself.’ Helena’s grin was lascivious. ‘And I’m sure that would be very enjoyable indeed. I mean, look at that jaw.’ Helena fanned herself.
‘What’s a jaw got to do with anything?’ Not that Amelia was contemplating taking Ash to bed, but still…she was intrigued. And perhaps…if she was entirely honest with herself, she was indeed contemplating taking Ash, if not to bed, then somewhere where she could find out what Helena was talking about.
‘Oh, Amelia,’ Helena reached out and lightly touched her arm. ‘That late husband of yours has a lot to answer for. Every part of a man should have something to do with it.’
Before Amelia could ask Helena to expand on that, Ash was beside her, his eyes still smiling. He greeted Helena, glancing at her briefly before turning his gaze to Amelia. Amelia caught Helena’s knowing laugh as he led her onto the dance floor. Her skin warmed slightly but that didn’t make her turn round, either. She was too busy looking up at Ash.
His hand settled on her waist and her breath caught in her throat. Their gloved fingers clasped and heat rushed down her arm.
They swept around the dance floor, moving in perfect synchrony. Amelia gazed at his jaw. It was firm and well defined. He had shaved closely but she could still the hint of his stubble, and if she looked even closer she could see the flecks of ginger that hid amongst the dark. The urge to lean up and brush her lips against the length of it was whispering through her, urging her on, as if he were the richest cake imaginable and all she had to do was reach out and take it.
They didn’t talk, their bodies telling each other what they needed to know. The music swirled around them and the other couples faded into the background. All she was aware of was Ash, his fingers against hers, his palm on her waist and the strength of his body as he moved them around the floor. A faint smile was playing over his mouth and she wondered where his thoughts had gone, but she didn’t want to spoil the mood by asking.
The dance came to an end and for a long moment they stayed in hold, before he slowly released her hand and stepped back. ‘Shall we?’ he asked, holding out his arm for her to take.
She slipped her arm through his and together they walked towards the supper hall. They could have chosen seats near her sister, or her friends or even his, but they chose to take a table partially obscured by a large potted plant. There was a strange fluttering in Amelia’s stomach and none of the food on her plate had any appeal. Ash didn’t seem overly interested in his, either.
‘You’ll be pleased to know that Markham has a solid reputation,’ Ash began. ‘He has no obvious vices and those I spoke to only had positive things to say.’
Amelia took a small bite of her meal. Ash did not seem to think he had said anything remarkable but to Amelia it meant the world. For so long, she’d been worrying about her siblings alone, so having someone offer an insight was a blessed relief.
‘Of course,’ Ash went on, ‘if Sienna takes a marked interest in the man, I will happily do a deeper check, should you wish.’
Amelia could only nod. In these two sentences, Ash had done more to support her with her sibling than Marcus had ever done. He would never truly appreciate how his simple enquiry and offer had made her feel.
‘How is your relationship developing with Mrs Chapman?’ she asked, trying to lighten the intensity of the mood.
He adopted a solemn air, spoilt only by the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. ‘I fear it is going badly.’
‘What did you do?’
His eyes widened in mock innocence. ‘Why do you think it is me who is to blame? I am generally regarded as charming.’
‘By whom? Yourself?’
He gasped in outrage, clutching his heart. ‘You wound me. My charm is a commonly known fact.’
‘It is?’ She put as much disbelief into her voice as she could manage and was rewarded with a grin.
‘In this instance, I don’t believe that I have done anything to incur such dislike.’
‘Are you sure she dislikes you? Could it be that she has an unfortunate expression?’
He tapped one long finger on the table. ‘I’d like to say it was her facial features but I fear the glares are aimed solely at me. She never looks so fiercely at my mother or sisters.’
Amelia tilted her head to one side, pretending to give it some thought. ‘Perhaps she knows about your fondness for slugs.’
He frowned slightly and Amelia hid her amusement by looking down at her plate, as if searching for the most delectable morsel.
‘You cannot be referring to that time with the slugs and the sandwich.’ She pursed her lips to stop herself from giggling. ‘I was only ten years old.’
‘My brother still holds the incident against you.’
‘How was I to know what would happen? I was only curious.’
She looked up at him. He was fighting his own grin. ‘Sometimes, when I’m at Merrimore, I can still hear the screams echoing through the corridors.’
He flung back his head and laughed. A shot of triumph whipped through her. She had always loved to make him laugh, and the sound of it was one of the things she had missed the most in his absence.
The rest of supper passed quickly as they traded reminiscences about their shared past. They did not discuss the events that had led to them being separated or the long, lonely years since. Instead, they remembered all the times they had laughed together and, by the time the dining was coming to an end, Amelia was fizzing with joy. Perhaps it was that, or maybe it was because she didn’t want the evening to end, or maybe even it was because Helena’s words were still ringing in her ears, but Amelia leaned across the table and lightly rested her fingers on Ash’s sleeve. ‘Do you remember the little house my father had built for me in the garden?’
Ash nodded. ‘Of course. Growing up, we practically lived in it during the times we were in town. In my mind, it was the only tolerable thing about coming to London.’
He was right; they had played in it a lot as children but their use of it had changed as they had become older and their relationship had developed from childhood friends to something more. It was beneath the wooden roof that Ash had kissed her for the first time. It was clumsy and their teeth had bumped uncomfortably, but it had been thrilling and the pinnacle of her existence up until that point. They had shared many more kisses after that but that first one had been monumentally life changing.
‘I haven’t been in it much since you left but I didn’t want to get rid of it completely. Too many memories.’
Ash nodded; he was no longer smiling. Perhaps he, too, was remembering what had passed between them deep in the garden.
‘I’ve had it changed into a summer house, although many of the original features are still there.’
He nodded again.
‘Rather than my nightly stroll in the copse, I might visit it tonight.’
Ash’s gaze was intense now. If he asked her outright if she was inviting him to join her, then she might deny it. The idea was shocking and she was not even entirely sure if she meant it. She didn’t like being groped, after all. Only something was coiling deep within her and she wanted to let it out, to explore what it meant, and she only knew that Ash was the person to help her. Talking about the past reminded her of how he used to touch her body. He had been gentle yet commanding, always making sure she was comfortable and happy. He had been nothing like Mortram, and although she had decided she would never marry again, there was nothing wrong with spending a pleasurable evening with a man if that man was Ash. Or at least, most people seemed to imply an affair was pleasing for those involved. Who better to test that theory with than the only man who had ever made her feel? She couldn’t allow herself to question what such an encounter might do to her heart.
Thankfully, before he could question her, the sound of the orchestra retuning their instruments could be heard. The supper was over and all around them people were getting to their feet. Amelia stood and greeted some friends, more enthusiastically than normal, but somehow desperate not to have her intentions questioned; not until she was sure in her own mind what she meant by her vague invitation.
Before she had time to think properly, Ash was bowing and excusing himself, and her next dance partner was sweeping her off for a lively country jig.
Time would tell whether she had made a terrible mistake.