“I will care,” she answered. “I have been looking forward to this evening. And I am already dressed to go.”
“But, as you pointed out,” he said, “I am not.”
“I cannot go without you,” she said, her voice quieter than before. Married women had more freedom than unmarried, but to attend a ball without her husband when they were only newly married would be not only noted, but fodder for the gossips. More than that, shewantedhim to go with her. “We needn’t stay beyond the supper dance.”
He lowered his paper and looked at her over it, his expression one of near exasperation. “The supper dance isn’t until one o’clock in the morning. I have no desire to be out that late.”
“But we would be out together. And we could dance with each other.”
“We have been out almost every night since arriving in Town.”
She stepped to his chair, unsure what to make of the annoyance in his face. “Have you not enjoyed the Season thus far?”
“I would enjoy the Season far more if I were permitted to spend it in peace and quiet.” His sincerity could not have been more apparent. He didn’t seem angry, simply determined to remain home.
Lucy held back the immediate protest that sprang to her lips. Perhaps he really was tired. He had objected the evening before, and she’d pleaded with him until he agreed, just as she had the evening before that and the one before that. She didn’t want to argue with him again. If he didn’t wish to go to their special anniversary ball, she wouldn’t press him to.
“I won’t pester you to go. There will certainly be other balls.” She managed a bit of a smile.
“Yes, there are always other balls,” he said dryly, a touch of a smile on his face.
Lucy pondered that a moment, even after Reed raised his paper once more. He’d always seemed to enjoy balls while he was courting her. Not only balls; he’d eagerly sought her out at musicales and soirees, and he’d visited her family box at the theater every time she was in attendance. So why was he chafing so much at the social whirl now? While they were yet unwed, he could only have enjoyed her company for the brief moments allotted a couple with no understanding between them. But now married, they would have each other’s company the entire night at whatever event they attended.
Perhaps that is the difficulty. He has grown weary of me.
Lucy refused to ponder that idea more deeply. “I’ll leave you to your paper, then.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
He gave her a fleeting smile then returned to his reading once more. She returned to her room. There was no need to tug the bell pull; her lady’s maid hadn’t left yet.
“Were you needing something else, ma’am?” The maid’s look of confusion was more than understandable.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Lucy said, keeping her expression and tone light. “We will be staying in tonight.”
And they stayed in the next night, and the night after that. For an entire fortnight, the pattern repeated. She dressed for the evening’s engagement then attempted to convince him to join her. Sometimes he did. Most times he did not.
The night of her dearest friend Fanny Alistair’s ball, Lucy stepped into Reed’s room once more, a feeling of dread settling on her shoulders. She’d lived this moment so many times over the past weeks, never sure if Reed would agree to an evening out. He’d not once agreed to attend a ball.
Her heart dropped at finding her husband in his usual nightly state of half-dress. They’d spoken only that morning at breakfast of Fanny’s ball and Lucy’s desire to attend. He couldn’t have forgotten.
“Reed?”
He looked up. She could see in his eyes that he knew immediately what she’d come to ask. “I suppose this means you don’t wish to stay in tonight?”
“Tonight is Fanny’s ball,” she reminded him. “I have longed to attend a ball.”
His shoulders slumped. “There will always be others. We needn’t go to all of them.”
“Allof them? We haven’t gone toanyof them.”
“But balls are so tedious. Wouldn’t you rather have a quiet evening—”
“A quiet evening at home?” She repeated the phrase she’d heard from him more than any other the past two weeks. “Therewasn’t a single Society function last Season you didn’t seem to make an appearance at,” Lucy said. “You danced with me at every ball, sat beside me at every musicale.”
Reed rose from his chair and crossed to the doorway. “Of course I did, Lucy. Every unmarried gentleman knows what is required of him. We dance that dance because we must.”
“I don’t understand.”
He took her hands in his. That familiar gesture set her thoughts more at ease. No matter their different preferences of late, he was ever tender and kind. She disliked feeling at odds with him.
