Chapter 5
“He didn’t look at her like the other rakes did.
He didn’t look at her like he wanted to know every last one of her secrets.
Oh no, he looked at her like he already did.
Like he wanted to create some secrets to share in together.
With stunning difficulty due to that perfectly noble face of his, she looked away.
Adelaide, Chapter 5
Dancing was indeed a miserable pastime. Noelle didn’t realize it was about to get much better and also so much worse.
With less than two months until the opening of the season, Miss Kelley had tasked the entire family with assisting the younger trio with the remainder of their dance lessons. They were all enduring this assignment with varying levels of resignation.
It wasn't lost on Noelle that while she’d done her best to avoid things like dancing by hiding in a book, Jasper had taken great pains to tether the family together.
Most of the six siblings endeavored to hold their tongues.
Lawrence did not. He emitted veiled insults when he wanted to escape a task.
Noelle wondered if he resented the myriad of responsibilities Jasper had inherited, but did not share.
As luck would have it, Lawrence was an enviable dancer. He had made a suitable enough partner for Moria, who needed little practice due to her natural rhythm and grace. Noelle thought this such a waste for a man. She had neither.
Lawrence had made sure she was aware of it, muttering as he pulled back, “Noelle, I’ll have no feet left if you continue to mutilate them with your two left feet.”
Jasper dropped Olivia’s hand and made it to his younger brother in two angry strides. He took a deep exhale as though to check his anger in order to reassure Noelle first.
“You’re doing just fine, Noelle. Don’t lose courage,” he gave her a gentle smile, and she nodded down at her crossed arms.
He turned to his younger brother, placing a firm grip on his shoulder, “If any gentleman spoke to your sister that way, you’d have leveled him. Keep your temper in check, or I will do it for you.”
Lawrence took a step back, and Noelle noticed his balled fists. Noelle felt his ire had less to do with her dancing and more to do with her brothers’ ongoing squabble.
“Fine. I’ll do just that. I’ll go for a ride.”
And the echo of his retreating footsteps filled the ballroom.
Kathleen threw up her arms. “Where is he going? We still need to work on the quadrille.”
At the word ‘quadrille,’ the small band of hired musicians from the village assembled in the corner of the ballroom started to warm their instruments. Noelle groaned.
“I’m happy to lend my services. Always love a good quadrille." A voice from the doorway interrupted. Noelle felt ice spiderwebbing across her body at the sound of that familiar voice. Slick and calculated and self-assured, as cool as a phantom wind.
Olivia, who had materialized out of thin air as usual, squeezed Noelle’s hand knowingly. All heads turned to see an immaculately dressed young gentleman with a meticulously effortless head of blond hair and eyes like a sun warmed Aegean sea.
He greeted the group at large, but Noelle felt like he was grinning right at her, as though they shared some secret. Noelle couldn’t move or speak. Her cheeks burned even as she suppressed her lips into a thin line to try and conceal her blush.
“Fitz!” Kathleen cried, clasping her hands in joy at the sight of the man who was like another brother to her.
You’ll need your strength…these events, just before the mourning period, really drag on.
He’d sat beside Noelle and looked out for her, trying to add some cheer to a solemn occasion.
She hadn’t seen him since the funeral feast; but he’d changed.
There was a bulk to his shoulders, a buttery blonde stubble to his jaw, as though it had grown while he’d been traveling without a valet; and his hair was longer.
Mother above, he was gorgeous in a way that even her fantastical recollections hadn’t dared to live up to.
Viscount Ludlowe moved forward to bow to the Earl first out of deference, then Lady Fleming.
He then planted a kiss on Moria’s gloved hand, Noelle wondering if the others also noticed the blush that creeped up her cheeks and across her decolletage.
As the others made him welcome and exchanged warm pleasantries, all she thought was, Not only do I have to beleaguer the quadrille, but I have to do it in front of him?
I’d rather hang from a cliff by three fingers.
And so, without preamble, before Fitz could bow and hover over her, Noelle prayed she wouldn’t trip as she grabbed her wide muslin skirts and sped from the room.
Noelle did not respond when she heard her name being called. She merely pulled the brocade curtain closer to cover herself from view. Bridget Kelley must have seen the bulge in the curtains over the window seat in the library flutter.
“Noelle, I know where you’re hiding. It’s only me.”
Noelle didn’t budge. The governess pulled the curtains back. Noelle looked up at her with narrowed eyes.
“Is this seat taken?”
Noelle pulled out the kitten she was holding and placed it on the seat next to her. “It is now,” Noelle said churlishly.
Bridget scooped up the kitten, sat on the seat next to her charge, and placed the kitten in her lap. “Who is this?”
Noelle sighed. The woman either couldn’t or wouldn’t take a hint. “That one is called ‘Salome.’”
“Such a sultry name for a kitten.”
“Olivia tries to name her animals with letters following O in the alphabet. I’m sure it has something to do with her being the youngest of the family.”
Bridget laughed. “I admire her cleverness,” when Noelle met her eyes, she said, “and yours. But I’m wondering what it was earlier that made you feel you needed to run away.”
A long exhale escaped as Noelle slid down her seat against the window. “Can I trust you?”
The other woman nodded, her eyes never leaving Noelle even as the kitten made itself comfortable burrowing into her lap.
“It was him. We’ve been acquainted for years, so his popping in unannounced is not all that much of a surprise,” she sighed, toying with a tassel on one of the pillows.
“Yet, how can I be expected to endure having him watch me muddle my way through the quadrille? You’ve seen me. I’m catastrophic on the dance floor.”
“Are you afraid he’ll tease you?” Bridget rubbed her fingers over the kitten’s downy belly as it purred at her.
Noelle curled her knees up to her chin. “It isn’t that I’m afraid of his teasing...It’s worse. With Lawrence, at least I know what he’s thinking. He says I’m terrible. I know I’m terrible. It stings, but…Fitz has a way of being cavalier and charming.
I know he’d be humoring me and that would only make matters so much worse.”
“Oh, I’m not humoring you. I know you’re a terrible dancer. I’ve known that for ages, princess.”
The same voice from earlier intruded from the doorway.
She turned toward it the way her body instinctively always did, much to her chagrin.
There was Fitz, overhearing things and inserting himself in conversations as though he were welcome to interlope in someone else’s home.
Noelle mused that a person with two good hands- nay, two beautiful and capable and strong hands- ought to use them for things like knocking.
The viscount folded his arms across his sculpted chest; he leisurely held up the door frame like it’d collapse without him holding it in place, and yet he had not a care in the world.
“My lord, might you give us a moment?” Bridget Kelley called.
“Absolutely not.” Fitz strolled across the room with effortless grace and squeezed a space in between Bridget and Noelle.
He turned to the lady’s companion. “The problem is, if you let her procrastinate, she’ll find every excuse to avoid the dance floor. That’s what got her into this position. Retreating into a book,” he glanced around him.
“Or an entire library, for that matter. She needs to leave both behind, momentary at least, and keep trying.”
Noelle had her verbal knives out when she said, “Maybe you should try reading a book or two, my lord. Your disparagement of libraries shows you are clearly lacking for mental stimulation. Perhaps that might solve some of your…problems.”
This was how their relationship had always gone: both taking turns in a verbal jousting tournament that never seemed to reach a resolution. Miss Kelley narrowed her eyes at the two of them, as though she could sense there was something more, another layer to their repartee.
Fitz turned to Noelle. “Don’t change the subject. Besides, if you keep on insulting me, there’s a very good chance I might fall in love with you.”
Noelle’s lungs emptied of air. She prided herself on always having a quick response, but this time he’d bested her. Words skittered away from her like balls on a billiard table as his too-blue eyes pierced hers.
Bridget spoke up then, standing as if to place some distance. “My lord, I hardly think that’s appropriate.”
“Fine,” he conceded, leaning a shoulder casually against a bookshelf, “Yes. You’re absolutely right. I apologize and all that.”
Both women exchanged looks. He didn’t sound apologetic in the least.
Miss Kelley spoke first. “Can we return to the matter at hand of how you seem to believe you’re the one to help Lady Noelle with her…dancing lessons?”
Noelle spoke up, raising her chin at him indignantly. “I hardly believe after 20 years of effort, you’re the one to crack the code.”
His eyes slowly traveled the length of her in response.
“Maybe the problem is that you haven’t found the right partner.”
He gave Noelle a raised brow, his head tilted back against the windowsill.
It sent her into chaos. The surrounding library, her governess, her family in the next room, all faded away.
She was angry. She was annoyed. She was entranced most of all. If he saw her inner turmoil, he gave no indication.
He merely leaned closer and pushed her spectacles up higher on her nose with one of his long, elegant fingers.
The touch felt unscripted, causing her to feel prickles of awareness of how close he was, just before he pulled back.