Chapter 14 #2
“I won’t leave your side. I promise.”
Rosalind believed him. Especially with the way he said that with his eyes never leaving her face. There was an intensity there that she believed.
And Cormac did keep his word. He stayed at her side as he got her a drink and urged her to sit, talking to her and pointing out various people he knew.
He even had a few amusing stories that made her giggle, and Rosalind could feel herself relaxing.
His presence was certainly helping, and she began to feel like it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be.
There were people who approached them, greeting Cormac with surprise and a lot of warmth. He seemed happy enough to converse with them and introduce Rosalind, looking a lot more relaxed than she thought he would be.
It was clear that he was very popular, and everyone wanted to talk to him at some point. And the people in question were curious about her. Nobody commented about the scars, and while there were interested stares, nobody looked horrified at the sight.
Having people treat her better than she remembered in London made Rosalind feel better. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
“Shall we dance?” Cormac asked, getting to his feet and holding out a hand.
Rosalind stared at him, shocked. “What?”
“You do dance, don’t you?”
“Yes, but… what…”
His smile warmed and he clasped her hand, gently pulling out of her chair. She almost fell into him, and Rosalind had to jump back to avoid bumping into him.
“I think it would be fun. Just one dance.” Cormac smiled at her, his eyes warming as they drifted over his face. “It’s one way of spending our time wisely.”
Rosalind wasn’t sure about that, and she worried she would forget how to dance. It had been a long time since she’d been to a social engagement, and the dances themselves were changing all the time. She didn’t know if she could keep up.
But there wasn’t much she could do as Cormac let her to the dance floor and lined up opposite her. His eyes never left her, and Rosalind could feel heat tickling at the back of her neck. She swayed, hoping she wouldn’t fall open and humiliate herself.
The music started and, much to her relief, she recognized the tune.
She could do this dance. As the other dancers fell into step, she joined in, keeping in time and feeling her spirits lift.
She used to love dancing, and it made her happy.
She felt light on her feet, and soon she was smiling, enjoying the sway of the music.
Cormac was across from her, the dance parting them and bringing them back again.
He looked like he’d been born dancing, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her.
Both of them seemed to be relaxing and enjoying themselves. Rosalind hadn’t thought this would be happening tonight, and she was glad about it. She was also pleased to see Cormac smiling and looking happy. It accentuated his good looks, and she could barely take her eyes off him.
And she couldn’t ignore that he kept touching her hand longer than he should. She pretended not to notice, but she could still feel the heat of his hand through her gloves. And she wanted to keep experiencing it.
“You do dance beautifully,” Cormac said as the dance finished and they clapped the musicians. “With your talent for music, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does.”
“I always loved to dance.” Rosalind bit her lip. “It was just something that… came with happier times.”
“Do you feel guilty for dancing while you’re meant to be mourning?”
She thought about that for a bit.
“No, not really,” she admitted. “There is a little bit, but…”
“I’m sure William wouldn’t want you to hide away and waste your life mourning him. He would want you to take moments now and then to look after yourself, to make yourself happy.”
His expression softened and he touched her hand as they walked off the dance floor.
“My mother told me that it’s not a crime to mourn and be happy at the same time. Everyone is different, but there’s nothing wrong in making sure you’re properly looked after in your mind.”
Rosalind let the words sink in. That was an interesting thing to say. And she could see the logic in it. Cormac’s mother sounded like a wise woman.
“Lord Ravensmuir.”
A woman in her forties was approaching them, plump and wearing a red dress that fitted to her figure. Her russet-red hair was piled up on her head, a beauty spot on her jaw near her mouth. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Cormac gave her a nod.
“Lady Markham. How are you tonight?”
“Very well, thank you. I heard you were here, and I had to come and see for myself. I couldn’t quite believe it, after what happened.” Lady Markham’s eyes turned to Rosalind. “And who is this lady? Someone said she was a newcomer?”
“The Dowager Viscountess, Lady Ellingham. Lady Markham, wife to our local MP.”
Cormac didn’t sound too enthused about it, and Rosalind why that was. She fixed a polite smile on her face.
“Lady Markham.”
The older woman regarded her curiously, opening staring at her face. Rosalind didn’t need to guess what she was looking at.
“It’s such a pity,” she said.
“What is?”
“That your beauty is marred by something so horrible. It was incredibly brave of you to come out when you look as you do.” Lady Markham seemed to be leaning in.
“Tell me, how did you come to have such a dreadful affliction? I couldn’t believe my ears when someone said you had such scars.
If it was me, I wouldn’t want to show my face anywhere. ”
Blood was pounding in her ears. Rosalind didn’t know what to say to that. Lady Markham had been so blunt about it, so bold, and she was left reeling. How was she supposed to respond to that, especially when the question bordered on downright rude?
Cormac answered before she could form any words.
“I don’t think Lady Ellingham’s courage should be called into question here, Lady Markham,” he said stiffly. “And I don’t think your blunt question is appropriate.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I didn’t know how else to ask.” The older woman’s eyes were round, and she seemed to be attempting innocence. “People have been talking about it…”
“Well, they need to find something better to discuss. Lady Ellingham doesn’t need to be scrutinized because of her looks.” Cormac took Rosalind’s arm. “Let’s go. I think we should get some air. It’s very warm in here.”
Rosalind glanced back at Lady Markham as they walked away, and saw her staring after them with an unreadable expression on her face. Cormac was muttering under his breath.
“Meddling old lady. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth closed?”
“Meddling?” Rosalind asked.
“She’s always asking questions that shouldn’t be uttered. And she loves to gossip, so if she finds something out first, she’ll certainly share it.” Cormac shook his head. “She’s not someone to associate with. I kept my distance from her as much as I could when I was previously out and about.”
Rosalind had a feeling there was more to it than that, judging by the way Cormac was stiffly walking them away, but she didn’t question it. She was still reeling from the blatant questioning, and the look in Lady Markham’s eyes that said she was looking forward to hearing the news first-hand.
Then she saw a movement in the doorway to the ballroom, and it got her attention. When she saw the man stepping through into the room, she stopped short, her heart stopping for a moment before stuttering back to life.
“Rosalind?” Cormac turned. “What…?”
Then he saw it as well. Julian was standing there, looking tall and grand in his suit, smiling at someone he was talking to. He was back from Inverness earlier than she thought.
And he wasn’t on his own.