Chapter 2 #2
“Forgive me, my lord, but I must find my sister again.” She hurried from the dance floor, leaving him standing alone once more.
What a strange interaction, he thought to himself.
He watched her leave with great interest, wondering if she was truly the informant. She certainly had an air of mystery about her, yet there was also a reluctance.
Placing his hands behind his back, he walked off the floor, going once again in search of his cousin. He found her almost exactly where he had left her, but with a group of other young ladies this time.
She spotted him within an instant and hurriedly made her excuses to the group before joining him at his side.
“Ye seemed to have enjoyed yerself,” she remarked with a tone of interest.
Moray’s gaze drifted once more toward the edge of the ballroom, half expecting to see the blue-feathered woman still there, as if she might have been anchored to the floorboards by some invisible thread.
But the crowd had already begun to shift again, swallowing her into the movement of silk and masks and candlelight.
“Aye,” he answered Elspeth at last, though his attention was elsewhere. “Enjoyment is nae the word I would use.”
Elspeth tilted her head, following the direction of his stare. “So ye did find her then.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “I found someone.”
“That is nae an answer.” She sounded disapproving.
“It is all ye are getting,” he said flatly, though there was no real bite to it.
His mind was still replaying the dance in fragments, her hand in his, the steadiness of her steps, the way she had not once faltered when the figures demanded precision. Not the behavior of a frightened debutant. Not even close. She was someone far more experienced than that.
Elspeth watched him for a long moment, her teasing expression slowly fading into something more thoughtful. “Ye look as though ye’ve seen a ghost, Moray.”
“I have seen worse,” he muttered under his breath.
“Aye, I ken that well enough,” she said quietly, and for once, there was no jest in her tone. Her eyes flicked briefly to the scar on his cheek before returning to his. “But ye are thinking too loud. That is never a good sign for ye.”
He exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to look back at her properly. “She isnae what she seems.”
“That could be said of half this room.” She gestured lightly around her, encompassing the whole room.
“Aye, but I daenae think it is true of half this room.” His voice dropped lower. “She spoke as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Every step, every answer, measured. Controlled.”
Elspeth’s brows lifted slightly. “Or she simply has better manners than most of the ton.”
“That is nae what I mean,” he said thoughtfully.
“I am aware,” she replied, and now her tone sharpened just a fraction. “What I am asking is whether ye are chasing a woman…or a suspicion ye have already decided must exist.”
Her words made him pause.
Around them, laughter rose in a small burst from a nearby cluster of guests, followed by the soft swell of a new conversation beginning. The ballroom resumed its easy rhythm, indifferent to whatever war Moray was fighting in his own mind.
“I saw her look at me earlier,” he said at last. “Before the dance. As though she recognized something she shouldnae have.”
Elspeth studied him carefully. “Or ye wanted her to.” The words landed more cleanly than he liked.
“Just what are ye saying?” He kept scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again.
“I am saying that it might be time for ye to settle down, and this particular lass seems to have caught yer attention.” Her tone was even, lacking the usual teasing note.
Moray turned back to her in astonishment. “Are ye that tired of me, cousin, that ye would have me married off? I would remind ye that whoever I marry will have to share the home at Craigmorrow. Ye will nae be so confident when I bring home a lass who drives ye out.” He smirked at her.
Elspeth had lived with Moray ever since she was a young woman.
She had been promised to a man in marriage, but he had proven to be far too cruel for her liking.
Her family had still wanted the match, but she had escaped in the middle of the night and had sought refuge with Moray at Craigmorrow. She had been there ever since.
A teasing smile danced around her lips. “I ken that ye wouldnae let that happen, Yer Grace, but I do wish that ye would find someone and settle down. Nae man should be alone. Will ye ever take me seriously and find someone?”
Before he could answer, Moray’s attention snagged just for a moment on movement near one of the tall gilded doors. A flash of blue feathers. A retreating figure slipping between guests with deliberate ease. And then, she was gone again.
He wanted to go after her, to ask her who she truly was and why she was at the ball.
Yet he knew very well that things were not as simple when it came to matters such as informants.
He needed to bide his time until the moment was right.
Only then would he ask her to tell him the truth.
And the truth was what mattered the most.