“Yes,” she said. “For we alwaysdoblame ourselves even when we know we are innocent. Instead of hoarding a secret sense of guilt, it is better to forgive ourselves. And to forgive the guilty one too, or at least recognize that except in very rare circumstances we were not the victims of pure evil, only of wrongs done against us by people who were themselves hurting when they hurt us. I do not mean we must excuse those wrongs that were done us, only that we must…understand why they were done and then forgive. We must do it for our own sakes. Resentment and hatred and grudges are a poison that harms the person who harbors them far more than it harms anyone else.”
And oh goodness—it was only as she finished speaking that she realized how very inappropriate was the sudden turn the conversation had taken. In just a couple of minutes they had gone from warm laughter to…this. It was at the same moment that she realized they had stopped dancing. Everyone had, in fact, and moved off the floor, for the waltz had ended. But the two of them still stood a little way onto the dance floor, holding each other in waltz position, their heads almost touching, totally absorbed in their conversation.
But there was no chance to smile, even to laugh off their earnestness. There was no chance to move apart and leave the floor as everyone else had done. A voice spoke from just behind Elizabeth, pitched—surely unintentionally—at a volume that drew instant attention from numerous guests standing nearby.
“Forgive me for interrupting such a touching tête-à-tête,” Sir Geoffrey Codaire said, “but you have spent quite enough time with my affianced wife, Hodges. Enough for tonight and enough for a long time to come. I would be obliged if you would unhand her so that I may escort her to her proper place at her mother’s side.”
Eleven
Good God!
Colin released his hold on Elizabeth and looked incredulously at Sir Geoffrey Codaire, who was standing a couple of feet behind her, solid and righteous.
“For God’s sake, will you keep your voice down, sir,” he said softly and urgently, though he was aware of a sort of hush falling upon the people close to them and a few shushing noises from others farther away. He took a step back as he smiled and bowed to Elizabeth. “Thank you for honoring me with a dance, Lady Overfield.”
He would have turned and strolled away, though he realized that considerable damage had already been done. Within minutes almost everyone in the ballroom would have learned of that brief exchange. It would be the subject of drawing room conversations and endless speculation tomorrow. He was prevented from moving away, however, when Sir Geoffrey spoke again.
“Am I to be subjected to censure by a mere puppy for admonishing him when he has subjected my betrothed to unwanted attention?” he asked, his voice vibrating with barely leashed fury. “It was indeed an honor that was granted you, Lord Hodges, one you have abused by making a spectacle of the lady.”
“Geoffrey.” Elizabeth had turned to set a placating hand on his arm. She too spoke softly, but by now it was far too late to prevent a major scandal. There was a spreading ocean of silence surrounding them, and more and more heads were turning their way to see what had caused it. “You are embarrassing Lord Hodges, and you are embarrassing me. Do let us go and join Mama.”
“And you thinkyouhave not been embarrassingme?” he asked, turning his glare upon her.
Colin saw Elizabeth close her eyes and opened his mouth to speak.
“A slight misunderstanding, is there?” a languid voice asked almost on a sigh, and all attention turned—as it always did when he spoke—upon the Duke of Netherby, who was resplendent in silver and dove gray and white, rings upon almost every well-manicured finger, jeweled quizzing glass in hand and halfway to his eye. He was neither a tall nor a husky man, and Colin had never known him to raise his voice or become agitated upon any provocation. He had once overheard a gentleman describe His Grace as a man too lazy to step out of his own shadow. But he had a presence more magnetic than Colin had known in any other man. The three of them and everyone else within earshot turned to gaze upon him.
“I must confess,” he continued, “that I too thought you were about to monopolize the company of Lady Overfield for another set, Hodges, and I was a trifle put out for the next dance is mine, I believe, Elizabeth?”
She stared at him for an uncomprehending moment. “So it is, Avery,” she said.
“Quite so,” he said. “But of course I realized my mistake the moment I thought it. You were merely finishing your conversation with Lord Hodges.”
“Netherby—” Colin began.
“My betrothed—” Codaire said.
“I was,” Elizabeth agreed. “And—”
They all spoke simultaneously.
His Grace moved the quizzing glass an inch closer to his eye. Light from the candles overhead winked off the jeweled handle.
“Lizzie?” Alexander too had appeared on the scene. “What—?”
“And I believe her grace is waiting for you to partner her in the next set, Hodges,” the duke said. “Elizabeth, Codaire, let us forget about dancing the next set and take a stroll into one of the salons to partake of a glass of wine, shall we? Dancing is thirsty work. Riverdale, will you join us? And your mother too, perhaps?”
And thus he brought a precipitate end to a scene that had been on the brink of turning ugly. Or uglier. It was already ugly. Even Netherby could not work miracles. There could be no erasing what had been seen and heard. Nothing could prevent the gossip that was sure to follow.Hadhe made a spectacle of himself during that waltz? More important, had he made a spectacle of Elizabeth?
But even as the conviction grew on him that indeed he must have, he remembered her saying that we tend to blame ourselves for bad things that happen even when we know we are innocent. Neither of them had done anything deserving of Codaire’s disastrous outburst.
Colin turned away abruptly as Elizabeth moved off on the arm of her brother and Codaire followed while Netherby strolled toward a dismayed-looking Mrs. Westcott and led her off in the same direction. Good God, he wished a large hole would suddenly appear in front of him to swallow him up. He had not been invited to go too, and he supposed Netherby had been wise to exclude him. But he would dearly like to plant Codaire a facer. How dared he so publicly humiliate Elizabeth?
As he turned, he came face to face with a smiling duchess.
“I wish the next set were a waltz too,” Anna said as she slid one hand through his arm. “You dance it so very well, Lord Hodges.”
She drew him unhurriedly away from where he had been standing, and conversation began again behind them, though there was surely an extra buzz of excitement about it. Colin smiled.
