Quarrels & Quills – by Olivia Huxley #5
Was she doing something he judged unseemly? Did he find her lacking? His expression didn’t appear critical. Rather, he looked…hungry, if she were to put a name to it. How he could be hungry when there was such an abundance of delicious food, she didn’t know.
Unless his hunger wasn’t for food. Her skin heated. Happily married friends whispered about how they felt when their husbands caught their eyes at a dinner party or ball.
Augusta’s belly flipped several times in the past half an hour as she’d caught Knox looking at her. Was she recognizing in him the kind of desire her friends felt from their husbands?
She slipped a hand into the pocket of her skirt, feeling the crinkle of parchment. She’d tucked this morning’s letter away after retrieving it and hadn't had the chance to read it yet. She was itching to discover its contents.
It was several more minutes before she could declare her desire to explore the folly and escape the group. Chagrined when several others joined her, she stole away to a secluded corner, surreptitiously pulling out the paper.
Dear Miss,
I’m gratified to discover that my words, which were meant only a little in jest but largely in sincerity, were beneficial.
I hope that you never feel a need to hide again. You are far too luminous a star to be prevented from shining your brightest.
I don’t believe you being true to yourself will prevent you marrying. Genuineness can only lead to greater happiness for you, and that will draw others to you—including the eligible men at this party.
Augusta puzzled at that. Was he not himself one of the eligible men? If not, who would write such things to her? The mere fact of him writing to her would be a scandal if they were discovered. If he were married, it would be unforgivable.
No, he must be among their number. But who?
Knox sipped punch as Augusta moved around the dance floor with the second son of a wealthy earl. She smiled up at the man, and Knox’s hand gripped the cup tightly as he fought off his envy.
He wanted all her smiles for himself. Yes, it was selfish, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
She was breathtaking this evening, in a pink gown with a neckline that was fashionably, temptingly low. The bodice was closely fitted to her ample curves, and the skirt whirled gracefully with her movements.
The other men in their party were noticing as well. If they weren’t dancing with her, they were fetching her drinks and bites to eat, or offering to escort her to the terrace for a breath of fresh air.
After dancing half a dozen sets with other women, Knox found a darkened corner where he could lurk behind a potted plant and watch her unobserved.
Or so he thought.
“What are you doing back here?”
He jumped at George’s words before whipping his head around in irritation. “Shooting clay pigeons. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks as if you’re awkwardly lurking. If you want to dance with my sister, go ask her.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not? You’ve danced with her before. Is there some reason you think she wouldn’t dance with you tonight? Or some sudden injury that makes it impossible for you to dance any more sets this evening?”
Knox wanted to snap at George but had no reasonable argument in response to his questions. It was ridiculous to be so apprehensive about doing something he’d done dozens of times before.
“Another set will begin shortly. Hand me that cup and go ask her, old man.” George snatched the glass from his hand and gave him a shove.
Knox stumbled out from behind the ficus, righting himself as he tugged at the front of his coat. Lifting his chin, he crossed the room to where Augusta stood with her current admirers.
As her eyes met his, he bowed his head. “Miss Woodbury, if you are not engaged for the next dance, I wonder if you might do me the honor?”
He held his breath for a moment until she answered.
“I’m not yet engaged, Mr. St. Claire. I’d be delighted.”
He extended a hand and, as she placed hers in it, he curled his fingers around hers. They felt right in a way they never had before, as if her hand was always meant to be held in his own.
They moved together in graceful partnership, not speaking at first. He was aware of the eyes upon them as they circled the room. He ignored all others in favor of the woman in his arms and her curious blue eyes searching his face.
At last she broke the silence between them. “Why did you ask me to dance, Knox?”
“Is that so unusual? We have danced together before.”
A little frown tugged at her brows, and he wanted to kiss it away. He shook his head to relieve himself of the impulse.
“You seemed more interested in dancing with other young ladies this evening.”
“I’m surprised you noticed when you weren’t lacking in partners yourself.” He wanted to kick himself for his ill-thought response.
A thrill shot through Augusta at Knox’s words. Was he jealous?
She’d tried to keep her tone even when she’d spoken of his previous dance partners, whom she couldn’t help noticing. She’d also tried to ignore Knox altogether, since he appeared uninterested in dancing with her. It rankled nonetheless to see him take partner after partner who wasn’t her.
Knox briefly closed his eyes before opening them and smiling contritely. “Forgive me. You simply appeared to be enjoying yourself immensely. I hadn’t expected you to notice my own pitiful self.”
She tapped his shoulder with her fan. “You know very well you’re not pitiful in any fashion. Stop fishing for compliments.”
His laugh was genuine. “Is that what I’m doing? Perhaps I should stop being so subtle. Do I not look dashing this evening?”
Augusta would typically give him a teasing answer. Tonight she felt emboldened. “You always look dashing.”
His expression softened. “Is that so?”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you that. You must hear it constantly from all the society ladies.”
His gaze on her was intent. “I don’t care about their opinions, only yours.”
Her pulse quickened. “Why?”
He studied her for several moments and opened his mouth as if to reply.
With the worst possible timing, the music came to an end, and he bowed gracefully. “I’m afraid that answer must wait, as your next partner is drawing near.”
Augusta wanted to stamp her foot with frustration. Instead, she stepped back, curtsied, and pasted a serene smile on her face as she turned to greet the approaching man.
Dear Sir,
What makes you so sure that I’m capable of shining brightly? Perhaps I am dull and tedious. Perhaps I prefer to fade into the background and escape notice.
Knox laughed at the beginning of Augusta’s next letter. She was incapable of fading into the background. Both her appearance and her manner were wildly attractive. To anyone who wasn’t an idiot, at least.
You also speak of the eligible men as if you are not one. Please tell me that I am not corresponding with a married man. I would be extremely disappointed if that were the case. I hope you have more integrity than that.
There was his Augusta, straightforward and principled. Knox was proud of her for cutting to the point. He took a sip of his brandy as he read on.
I confess that you have piqued my interest as to your identity. Will you not reveal yourself?
Knox gave that some thought. He realized it was unfair that he knew to whom he was writing while she didn’t, but he was enjoying himself and didn’t think there was any harm in continuing the game a little longer.
However, perhaps a hint was in order.
Augusta’s fingers trembled as she unfolded the next reply. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous. It was only a letter, and they’d already exchanged several.
Dear Miss,
I am indeed unmarried. I wouldn’t keep correspondence with one woman while married to another.
As for your radiance, I’ve seen it myself. You were particularly luminous when we danced together earlier this evening. I could hardly stop looking at you in your lovely pink gown, the laughter dancing in your sparkling blue eyes. You were utterly enchanting.
Her breath caught. She danced with nine gentlemen the night before. Now she knew he was one of those nine—among them Knox. He’d never spoken to her like this before, so it was difficult to imagine he was the one saying these words now.
I’ll reveal myself to you, but not yet. I’m having too much fun to end it so soon.
Augusta let out a little growl. Although this was most definitely like Knox, she could not allow herself to believe it was him. Not unless she heard a confession directly from his mouth.
She sighed. There was nothing she could do except wait.
And perhaps try to tempt Knox in the meantime.
All morning, Augusta watched Knox as closely as she could without stirring up rumors. His manner with others was light and engaging, but his eyes kept finding hers.
What if the letter writer were someone else? Might she fall in love with another man and put her feelings for Knox behind her once and for all?
She thought she might always wonder what might have been with Knox, and that felt unfair to a potential husband. She supposed it was a common occurrence in the ton , having a tendre for someone other than one’s spouse; however, it wasn’t something she wanted for herself.
Everyone gathered indoors that afternoon. There was light rain outside, and parlor games had been designated as the afternoon activity. It was an enjoyable few hours, but her mind continued to wander and she kept losing focus.
The last of the games was Sardines. She’d always felt a thrill when hurrying to find a hiding place, or searching for those already hiding. Her heart pounded as she concealed herself in a fold of the green velvet drapes hanging at the windows in the music room.
She heard footsteps that halted at the doorway to the room and tried to calm her breathing to be as quiet as possible. She let out an involuntary gasp when the steps drew near and stopped on the other side of the drape shielding her.