Chapter 2
AT THIS POINT, Hannah Faircott was becoming quite adept at hiding from her mother. Perhaps it was not the best skill to possess, but she took pride in her ability regardless. Anything that prevented a marriage arrangement was useful in her eyes.
Peering around the pillar that was her current shield, Hannah watched the many dancers twirl and spin to the lively music played by the orchestra in the corner.
She enjoyed dancing a good deal and would have rather been out among the crush, but somewhere in the crowd was a man who, according to Mother, would make the most splendid husband.
Without knowing who the man was, as Mother refused to name him, Hannah thought it best to hide.
Her hiding place would likely only last until the set finished, so Hannah glanced around the ballroom in search of her next sanctuary.
Shefford Park was a large house, admittedly, but she couldn’t very well go wandering the whole of it when she had only met Lord and Lady Shefford that evening.
That meant she would have to seek refuge elsewhere in the ballroom, and hiding places were few and far between.
First, she needed to ensure she had a view of Mother in order to keep avoiding her.
Mother was on the far end of the room, chatting with a few other matrons and scanning the ballroom with her keen gaze.
Luckily, there were enough attendees that Hannah hoped she could slip through the crowd without being seen.
As soon as the music stopped and the dancers went every which way to find their new partners, Hannah would hide behind some floor-length curtains to wait out the next set.
“Are you well, miss?”
At the sound of a soft, masculine voice, Hannah shrieked and jumped backward, tumbling straight into a large, firm body. Hands gripped her elbows and held her steady just long enough for Hannah to scramble away. She turned, a hand over her heart, and gawked at the man standing a few feet away.
He winced. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
After glancing behind her to ensure no one else had heard her scream, Hannah offered a brief smile. “I scare easily,” she admitted.
“Is that why you were hiding?”
“No, of course not.” Frowning, she wondered what she could say to explain without sounding ridiculous. “I was, er, avoiding someone in particular.”
The man’s eyes swept over the ballroom as concern wrinkled his brow. “Are you in danger?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
Hannah’s smile lingered this time, and she nodded. “Quite certain. Thank you, Mr.…”
As he turned scarlet, he ducked his head and took a step back. “Ah, I should not be speaking to you without an introduction. Forgive me, again.”
“If you are going to adhere to formality, then I should point out that I have not yet forgiven you for frightening me.” She had been trying for a teasing tone, but the man kept his head down and didn’t so much as crack a smile.
Well, at least she could assume he was a good man if he was refusing to continue the conversation until they had been properly introduced.
As the dance continued on, Hannah leaned her back against the pillar and used the moment to study her quiet companion.
He looked to be several years her senior but not so old that she wouldn’t call him young.
His features were not especially striking—thin nose, rounded jaw, a cleft in his chin—but there was a warmth to his brown eyes when he glanced up to meet her gaze.
If she were to judge him on appearance alone, she would guess him to be of a gentle sort. Kind.
“You will not speak to me more until we have been introduced?” she asked when his gaze lingered on her.
He shook his head, turning red again.
“I cannot fault you for that, I suppose.”
He grimaced, then looked around as if searching for someone who could provide that formality. Unfortunately, Hannah had chosen this corner of the ballroom because it was empty, and she didn’t think anyone would venture their way.
How had Hannah not noticed him approaching her? She had not been so consumed by watching Mother, had she? Before she could ask the man if he had appeared out of thin air, movement behind him caught her eye.
A door!
Lady Shefford swept into the ballroom, pausing when she saw the two of them standing awkwardly. “Is something the matter, Sir James?”
The man, Sir James, shook his head and glanced at Hannah.
“Why are you not dancing? This is a ball!”
Sir James coughed and tucked his hands behind his back. “I’m afraid I have not been introduced to the lady.”
“Well, if that is all.” Waving the question away, the countess strode forward and took hold of Hannah’s hand, pulling her toward Sir James as she spoke.
“Miss Faircott, this is Sir James Hartwell. Sir James, Miss Hannah Faircott. There!” She slipped Hannah’s hand through Sir James’s arm.
“Now, you will dance.” Without another word, she continued on her way, vanishing into the crowd.
Hannah was both mortified and grateful for Lady Shefford’s intervention. “I don’t believe that was a suggestion,” she said, trying not to laugh.
Sir James smiled subtly as he looked down at her hand. “If you don’t wish to dance, I—”
“I would love to dance.”
He turned his head to face her. “But you were hiding from someone.”
“She will not begrudge me dancing.”
His smile growing, James gently directed her forward to the edge of the dance floor to wait for the set to finish. “‘She,’” he said, quietly enough that Hannah guessed he repeated the word more for himself.
Something in his smile brought a blush to her cheeks. “I love my mother dearly,” she explained, though he hadn’t asked, “but sometimes it is easier to avoid her when in social settings.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Sir James said as his smile grew wider still. “Coincidentally, I came to this corner of the room to avoid my own mother.”
“Ah, then you are a wise man.”
“Or a foolish one for thinking my plan will work for long.”
Hannah giggled, enjoying this conversation immensely. Thank goodness for Lady Shefford’s timely appearance. “If it interests you,” she said, nudging Sir James’s arm with her own, “I intended to make my escape from the pillar and take cover behind those curtains over there.”
He looked in the direction she gestured with her head and pursed his lips. “No good, Miss Faircott. I am far too large to be concealed in such a small space, and I must inform you that the curtains are not as thick as they look. In the right lighting, you can see right through them.”
“That is unfortunate information, Sir James, but I am most grateful for the warning.”
Leaning close enough that a shiver ran through Hannah’s body, Sir James pointed to a set of doors on the other side of the ballroom. “Those lead out to the gardens, where a person can successfully hide for a dance or two.”
“Alas, I fear being a young woman alone in the garden is worse than being found by my mother.”
He winced. “Fair point. I wish I had other suggestions of hiding places, but ballrooms are generally not known for their hidden alcoves and secret passages.”
“I suppose I will have to settle for hiding amongst the dancers.” Though she filled her voice with disappointment, Hannah grinned up at Sir James, pleased when he matched her grin with his own.
For someone with a title, he was delightfully easy to talk to.
And something about him made her want to be bold.
“I am glad you frightened me, Sir James.”
His arm flexed, pulling her closer to his side. “As am I, Miss Faircott.”
“James!” A man’s shout carried over the music and the chatter, and a moment later a man slipped from the crowd and stopped at Sir James’s side with a grin.
“Everett?” Sir James stared at the man, looking flabbergasted. “What in the world are you doing in England?”
Everett glanced at Hannah, interest flashing in his eyes and making her squirm, but he quickly turned his attention back to Sir James. “We can talk later. You’re needed out in the garden.” Something about the way he spoke sounded strange, and Hannah wondered if Everett was not from England.
“The garden?” Sir James frowned and flexed his arm again, though this time it seemed less intentional than the last. “Why? And how long are you here?”
“A friend of yours needs your help. She sent me to—”
“‘She’?” This repetition was not as pleasing as the last time Sir James had spoken the word. He was tense now, his gaze jumping to the doors that led outside. “Everett, what did you do?”
“Absolutely nothing that warrants your judgment,” Everett complained. There was some bite in his tone now, and his expression had hardened. “Now, will you come, or will I have to tell the young lady that she is on her own?”
“I will come.” Sir James actually took a step before he remembered that Hannah was on his arm, and his eyebrows drew together as he met her worried gaze. “I must ask forgiveness a third time and postpone our dance, Miss Faircott. You must think me the worst of men, but this cannot wait.”
To her surprise, he took hold of her fingers and lifted her hand to his lips. She felt the warmth of his breath through her thin gloves and was so taken aback by her body’s shivering reaction to the gesture that her voice caught in her throat.
Sir James was nearly out of earshot before she called, “I forgive you for frightening me!”
He looked back and grinned. “Only two more to go,” he called back, then vanished into the darkness outside.
Hannah was still standing in the same place, her eyes on the doors, when her mother found her minutes later.
“There you are, child! I thought I would need to ask your cousin to call someone out if I didn’t find you soon.”
Sighing, Hannah took hold of Mother’s hand and squeezed.
“I have been here in the ballroom the entire night, Mother, and I highly doubt Mr. Abney would call anyone out on my behalf, even if he had a reason.” Particularly because her cousin was barely giving them enough of an allowance to live off of after inheriting her father’s estate.
“I do believe you are right,” Mother admitted glumly. “And yet you wonder why I am so eager to match you with my dear friend’s son. You need stability, Hannah. He can give you that.”
But can he give me love? She was too afraid to speak the question out loud, knowing the answer would likely not be the one she wanted to hear.
She was not opposed to marriage in any way, but more than a comfortable life, she longed for love and affection.
What good was stability without a true friend to share it with?
“Will you at least tell me his name?” Hannah asked, even though it was fruitless. Mother always gave the same answer.
“I will not let anyone bias your opinion of him before you have had the chance to meet him, Hannah. I know how stubborn you are, and I want the choice to be yours.”
All in all, her financial situation could have been worse, and Hannah was grateful that her mother wouldn’t force her into anything.
But sooner than later, Hannah would have to admit to herself that she had little to offer a man beyond her personality, and her prospects were going to be limited.
A man she might love may not be a man who accepted a miniscule dowry and no family of significance.
Mother didn’t let Hannah out of her sight the rest of the night, but neither did she find the man she wanted Hannah to marry. Nor did Sir James ever return to the ballroom, though Hannah searched for him throughout the night.
Who was the young lady he had gone to help? His betrothed? Hannah was afraid of the answer to that question as well, which was why, at the end of the night, she climbed into her bed without asking her mother if she knew anything about Sir James Hartwell.