She looked at him quickly, then away, the veil of her golden-brown lashes falling over her eyes once more. What had he seen there? Hope? Fear? Uncertainty?
Before he could decipher her look, the music rose and another round began. Keith and Miss Blake looked at them expectantly. It was time to rejoin the dance. But, dash it, Stephen doubted he would be able to concentrate on the steps. Dancing was not what he had in mind.
As soon as Mr. Harrison escorted Kate off the dance floor, Mr. Darby-Wells downed his drink, swept to her side, and claimed her again. Sophie noticed Mr. Harrison’s gaze follow the two as they danced, his expression tinted with sadness... or perhaps, resignation.
She and the captain danced another set, and then Sophie begged off to rest. Between her constricting stays and added weight, she found herself becoming out of breath easily. Meanwhile, Captain Overtree danced dutifully with Miss Blake and then his sister.
Mr. Overtree asked his wife to dance, but she shook her head. “I don’t want you to overexert yourself. And really, dancing is the province of the young.”
Earlier, Sophie had seen Colonel Horton talking with several couples nearer his own age. But now he sat alone. It sent a blade of sorrow through her heart, to see his solitary figure amid all the happily paired people, no doubt missing his wife.
Sophie went and joined the older man, noticing he rolled a wrapped sweet between his fingers. “May I sit with you?”
“Of course. Catching your breath, are you?”
“Yes. Unless... would you care to dance, Colonel?”
“Thank you, no. My dancing days are over. Mrs. Horton was an excellent dancer.” He looked up at his daughter’s approach. “Was she not, Janet?”
Mrs. Overtree sat on the colonel’s other side. “She was indeed, Papa.”
“Well, my dear, is it a victory?” he asked. “Have the rank and file carried out your orders and plans as you’d hoped?”
Mrs. Overtree released a long breath. “I think so, yes.”
He looked at his daughter in fond amusement. “This is the longest I’ve seen you sit still in a week.”
She gave him a rueful smile of acknowledgement, then said, “I confess I am alittleweary.”
“I should say so.”
A peal of laughter sounded—Kate’s—drawing their attention to the line of dancers.
The colonel lifted a knobby hand toward his grandchildren. “Look at Stephen and Katherine.” He shook his head, then smiled at Sophie. “Should have seen that boy when his little sister came along so late. Him already ten years old. Holding that wee bundle with such pride. Such affection.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Overtree nodded, eyes distant in memory. “They were always close. I think she shall miss him more than anyone when he leaves.” Mrs. Overtree shot Sophie a look, amending, “Besides you, of course, Sophie.”
Oh yes, she would miss him indeed.
Next, Mr. Harrison guided Kate onto the dance floor a second time.
Mrs. Overtree huffed. “Is he still here?”
The colonel said, “Oh, let Kate enjoy herself. She is young. It’s only right she should have several suitors vying for her attention.”
Mrs. Overtree’s lips thinned. “I do not consider David Harrison a proper suitor for our Katherine.”
The colonel patted her hand. “There, there, my dear. Don’t fret. It’s only a dance.”
Sophie watched the gentle way Mr. Harrison held Kate’s hand and gazed into her eyes, and knew it was more than a dance. Her heart ached for them both.
Later, when the number of couples dwindled, Sophie and Captain Overtree left the hall by unspoken agreement before the final boulanger.
“Tired?” he asked.
“My feet are tired. But otherwise I am well. Though I have definitely had enough of dancing. Have you?”
“An hour ago.”
