After supper, Damon escorted me back to the ballroom. No sooner had we entered the room than he released his hold and turned toward the card room.
I stared at his back in disbelief. “Are you really not going to dance?” Asking young ladies to dance was a gentleman’s duty, especially since—as his mother had predicted—there were not enough men by half.
“I know that you yearn for my company, but you really should not be so forthright with your feelings. People will think we have formed an attachment.” He winked.
I frowned. He knew I wasn’t asking him to stay for myself, so why tease me?
“Now that you have had a set with a future earl, I should think you will have more than enough willing partners to keep you occupied. Enjoy the rest of your ball, Miss Kent.” And then, with a smirk, he retreated into the card room.
Annoying, arrogant, insufferable man! Did he really have so much money to burn that he could spend hours upon hours gambling it away?
I thought of all the people I’d served back home in London; they were destitute, so poor they had to rely on the generosity of the church for their daily bread. And yet, young lords like Damon, who had never worked a day in their life, were free to idle away their time, their talents, their capital, and not want for anything.
This world was so unfair.
When dancing resumed, I indeed had more interested partners than lines on my card. If my suitors only knew my true identity—a daughter of a clergyman without title or rank or fortune—perhaps they would not have been so eager.
After one particularly rousing set, I found myself at the refreshment table at the same time as Ollie.
“You appear to be having an enjoyable evening,” he said. “What would it take to get you to dance with me?” Ollie asked, but despite his playful tone, his wish to dance had little to do with me and everything to do with my sudden rise in desirability.
“Well, I suppose you would need to turn back time in order for that to happen.” I moved to step away.
“Hanny.” He caught my elbow. “Will you truly not dance with me?”
Was he honestly confused by my refusal? For a man as educated as Ollie, he could be quite dense sometimes. “I’m sorry, but I have already promised the remainder of my sets to other gentlemen.”
“Can you not forget one name?” He flashed me his dimpled-chin smile.
I tried desperately not to be charmed, but I’d spent my whole life loving that dimple and could not help it. Still, I had more pride than that and certainly more integrity. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jennings. I would never cast off one dance partner for another. It isn’t right or kind. Please excuse me.”
I tried to enjoy myself the rest of the evening, but my feet hurt from dancing, and no matter how hard I tried not to, my thoughts—and gaze—kept returning to Ollie. Although he, too, had no shortage of willing and beautiful partners, he looked as miserable as I felt.
When the time came to leave, my feet were sore and my heart heavy. I’d come to this ball hoping to leave with Ollie by my side, but Papa escorted me to the carriage instead.
“Did you enjoy the ball, my dear?” Papa asked as the horses’ hooves beat the ground back to Summerhaven.
“It was tiring,” I said. “I don’t know how people do this every night during the Season.” I didn’t know why they would want to. Nothing could be more exhausting, both physicallyandemotionally, than large social gatherings.
I rested my head on Papa’s shoulder. I would never make sense of this night. But one thing was certain; without Ollie, there was nothing left for me at Summerhaven but memories.
Chapter Six
The morning after the ball,I didn’t join the family for breakfast. There wasn’t time. Papa was journeying home today, and I intended to join him. After last night, six weeks would be impossible to bear.
I held up two bonnets, trying to decide which to wear and which to pack.
“Wear the blue,” a deep voice said. Damon stood in the corridor outside my bedchamber. His gaze dropped to my open trunk. “What are you doing?”
“Packing,” I replied and handed Nora the blue bonnet to place inside the trunk.
He laughed a little. “Yes, I can see that. Why?”
“Because that is what one does when one intends to travel.”
“You’re leaving.”
“How observant of you, my lord.”
