For the hundredth time, she wished her brother was there to experience this upside-down looking-glass world with her. She would have loved for him to meet Lady Roundtree, to see the same unforgettable sights, to share the same experiences. But Carter would be lucky to ever leave the confines of their village.
Without the income from the caricatures, there would scarcely be enough money to snatch a few hours’ sleep each night. What she’d earned so far had already been spent on her grandparents’ health. This was to be her last Society ball. The baroness was much improved. Things would soon go starkly back to normal.
If anything would ever be “normal” again.
She wondered if she would ever stop missing Mr. Grenville.
“Come along,” Lady Roundtree barked over her shoulder.
Nora hurried to catch up.
Because the hostess’s butler could not be in two places at once, the lady of the house stationed the underbutler at the head of the stairs to manage the growing queue. The primary butler accompanied their entourage around the side of the house and through the terrace door to announce their unconventional guests.
As soon as the crew was properly poised outside the garden doors, the butler took his position just inside the threshold and bellowed, “Lady Roundtree!”
And companion, Nora added in her head.
She followed the footmen as they pushed the baroness around the refreshment table to the rear of the ballroom where all the other matrons, spinsters, and wallflowers sat and watched.
Nora took her place among them. She wondered if Mr. Grenville would be here tonight.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought. She couldn’t help it. All she could think about was what it would be like to dance with him, to feel the warmth of his strong arms, to know the taste of his kiss. If it were up to Nora… She tried to block the sensuous images from her mind.
Impossible. She could not let this go any further than stolen kisses, and yet she couldn’t walk away. He meant far too much to her now.
But kisses were all it could ever be.
Her best hope for maintaining her sanity in this untenable situation was to treat every moment with him as if it were light and meaningless. Ensure neither of them took their ill-fated attraction too far.
Pretending their relationship didn’t matter was the only way she would be able to keep her emotions in check when it was time to go back home.
Butoh, how she wished country girls from sheep farms really could marry someone as wonderful as him. In a universe where her connection with Mr. Grenville would not have to be relegated to the shadows…
“Mabel, what a stunning bonnet,” a passing lady said to the baroness. “And that beautiful gown. I trust your broken leg has not impeded your modiste in the slightest?”
“On the contrary.” Lady Roundtree lifted her nose. “Being confined to this chair has given me more time to shop the fashion plates. I won’t know what to do when the splints come off a week from Saturday.”
A week from Saturday.
Nora’s stomach hollowed, then her chest filled with hope. She would miss Lady Roundtree, and she could not bear the thought of never seeing Mr. Grenville again, but her family needed her now more than ever. She had to go home. Nora would probably never leave them again.
As for Mr. Grenville… Her heart ached at losing him. She might not be able to see a future between them, but nor could she bear to imagine the rest of her life without him.
“Lady Roundtree!” exclaimed another fine lady. “How is your leg?”
“Close to perfection,” the baroness replied.
No one ever asked about Lord Roundtree. They took it as a matter of course that his life and his wife’s would have no point in common.
No one but Nora seemed to be astonished at the countlesstonunions in which the husband and wife were practically strangers despite years of marriage.
She dreamed of something more.
Nora deeply appreciated that her grandparents still loved each other and her. She was grateful that her few memories of her own parents were that they loved each other and their children very much. Someday, she might find a match like theirs. Back home, a loving marriage was a reasonable expectation.
She frowned. Shouldn’t the same be true everywhere? Lady Roundtree deserved better than a husband who did not appreciate her. All women deserved more.
“It looks like the Duke and Duchess of Ravenwood are leading the waltz,” whispered one of the wallflowers.
