“Then I will wish you lifelong happiness,” he said. “With a man you can trust to care for you as you deserve to be cared for.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I will wish you the same, Colin. With Miss Dunmore, if it is she whom you choose. Or with someone else. I hope you will find the happiness you deserve.”
“Do we always get what we deserve?” he asked her before drawing her a little closer in order to avoid a collision.
“No,” she said. “Life is not always so tidy. But Alex and Wren have the happiness they deserve, and now I have. I am confident you will too.”
“You are able to foretell the future, then, are you?” he asked.
“Oh, by no means,” she said. “Thank goodness. But I am ever hopeful for the people I love.” An arrested look came into her eyes then, followed by obvious embarrassment and a deepening of the flush in her cheeks.
…the people I love.
“I do love you, you know,” she said. “I could not love you more if you really were my brother, Colin.”
Ah. He smiled at her a little ruefully, and she smiled back as they fell silent and enjoyed the rest of the waltz. Determinedly enjoyed. Did not really enjoy at all. Perhaps it was their last. He was not sure she would want to do this again. He was not sure he could.
I could not love you more if you really were my brother.
Why did the words hurt just a little bit?
Codaire was still with her mother and family group when the dance was over. Colin extended a hand to him. “I understand I am to congratulate you,” he said. “You are a fortunate man.”
Codaire took his hand but did not return his smile. “I am indeed,” he said. “Our news is to be shared with just a select few, you will understand, until Lady Overfield’s brother and my family have been informed.”
Too late Colin realized he should have made no mention of the betrothal since he could not lay claim to being one of aselect few.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he said.
“Lord Hodges is Wren’s brother,” Elizabeth said simultaneously, “and therefore very nearly my brother too.”
Codaire released Colin’s hand.
“The announcement will be made soon, Lord Hodges,” Mrs. Westcott said. “It cannot be soon enough for me. There must be a betrothal party, of course, and there will be the wedding to plan. I have already informed Sir Geoffrey that his preferences will scarcely be consulted. Wedding preparations belong exclusively to the bride’s family.” Her eyes were twinkling, and she looked for the moment quite like her daughter.
“And I have informed you, ma’am,” Codaire said, “that you will hear no argument from me, provided Elizabeth will be my wife at the end of it all.”
Colin felt distinctly out of place as the family members all laughed and gazed fondly from Elizabeth to Codaire and back again. He made his bow and walked away. Actually he did not stop walking until he was outside the ballroom, and then he paused only long enough to decide that he had no wish whatsoever to step back in there. He proceeded on his way downstairs, early though it still was, retrieved his hat and cloak from a footman, and left the house. He was thankful that he had walked here and did not have to wait for a carriage to be brought around.
So Elizabeth was betrothed to the man of her choice.
He was happy for her.
Miss Dunmore was at that ball. So was Miss Madson. He paused on the pavement for a moment. But no, he had not solicited the hand of either in advance for a set at tonight’s ball and therefore was under no obligation to stay. There was a difference, of course, between obligation and expectation, and he was in no doubt that Lady Dunmore in particular expected him to dance with her daughter after what had happened in the park this afternoon.
Ought he to go back, then?
There was no reason on earth why he should not. Elizabeth had told him about her betrothal because he was a close family connection, and it was surely perfectly natural that he should congratulate Codaire after the set was over. The man’s obvious annoyance was understandable, perhaps, but not something dire enough to send Colin scurrying away as though he had committed some unpardonable social faux pas.
So she was betrothed. He was happy for her. He really was.
And he had his own courtships to pursue. Plural? Or had they now become singular? What powerful beings mothers were—his own and Miss Dunmore’s.
Yes, he really ought to go back.
He walked away.
Ten
