Chapter 17 #3
Miles turned toward her, blocking his face from the rest of the room. “Miss Casburn, about the matter of my intentions toward you. You’re a fine woman, but there’s someone else I’d like to—”
“Oh, no. Of course, you needn’t go on.” She cut in with a wave, stopping him from completing the awkward task of saying he wasn’t interested in pursuing her.
A bright flush crept up her cheeks, but otherwise, she appeared as composed as ever.
“I simply felt a newcomer to our social circle needed someone to keep him company over the summer. I would never assume it to be more than that. Now, I must see to other guests, if you’ll excuse me.
Don’t neglect to claim your dance later. ”
She sashayed off in a swirl of pale yellow skirts and false smiles, but Miles got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t finished with him yet.
He ruminated over that concerning possibility, but only briefly, because Mr. and Mrs. Bryce appeared in the doorway of the ballroom with Sylvie trailing behind them.
Thoughts of Miss Casburn fled. It was all Miles could do not to rush to the door and claim Sylvie’s attention before any of the other men present could do so.
But he didn’t need to. Sylvie’s eyes traveled the room.
She began walking toward him the moment she caught sight of him.
An odd fluttering in his stomach made him feel a bit light-headed.
She wanted to be at his side as much as he wanted to be at hers, even after learning about his darkest moments.
Nothing could be more joyous and freeing than that.
When he met her halfway through the ballroom, Sylvie began speaking as if they’d never stopped while holding out her dance card.
“Would you mind claiming my first waltz? I need to tell you something, and that will be the most privacy we’ll get without raising my mother’s suspicions.
She’s watching me far too closely these days. ”
It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear, but Miles wouldn’t deny her anything. “Certainly.”
He scribbled his name on the correct line, along with another dance later in the evening for good measure. Sylvie accepted the folded card back with a grateful smile. “I’ll see you then.”
She walked away from him while every fiber of his being screamed to follow her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her no matter what anyone in the room had to say about it. His pulse thrummed in his ears as if even temporary separation from her was a threat to his physical well-being.
It took a considerable amount of willpower to remain rooted to that spot and pretend interest when their hosts entered and began the first dance. All he wanted was to get through the time until that promised waltz.
The three-quarters of an hour that ensued might as well have been eternal while he danced halfheartedly with several other young women.
But finally, the last strains of a polka faded, and Sylvie appeared at his side.
Miles offered his hand, much happier to have her there than when Miss Casburn had done the same earlier. “May I have this dance, Miss Bryce?”
Sylvie placed her hand in his with a shy smile, allowing Miles to lead her onto the floor. The waltz began, and they moved as one to the music for a moment. Miles gave Sylvie time to speak when she was ready, anticipation of what she might say growing with every second they danced.
“I want to stop investigating my secret admirer.”
That was inconsistent with anything he’d imagined she wanted to discuss. Miles’s mind scrambled to catch up. “Why? Did he offend you somehow?”
He mentally skimmed through all the lines he’d written in the last few letters to her. Yes, his emotions might have gotten a bit carried away, but surely, she hadn’t been so put off by that. What could he have done wrong?
But Sylvie shook her head. “No…” She trailed off and dampened her lips several times, looking for all the world as if she was preparing to tell him his favorite hunting dog died. In a breathy rush, it all spilled out. “Miles, I don’t care who’s writing the letters because I don’t want him, anyway.”
The dance allowed them to press close enough for Miles to feel her holding her breath, as if terrified of what he would say.
Should he be relieved or devastated? She didn’t want the author of the letters, but was that because she knew it was him?
Or because she thought it wasn’t him, but she wanted it to be?
And why in the world had he crafted such a complicated plan?
Before he could figure out how to respond, she released her breath and continued.
“There’s something I need to tell you, a secret I’ve been keeping since we met and should have disclosed then.
I couldn’t bear to move forward with our relationship—if that’s what you want—without telling you that…
I’m the lady archer. You’ve been helping me with the archery show at Cedar Point all summer.
I’m sorry for keeping my identity from you.
I pray you’ll forgive me for the deception.
I don’t intend to gloss over it, but I currently have a more pressing problem to face. Will you help me find a way out?”