The betrothal ballfor Ann and the Duke of Ellinbourne was a crushing success, as Aidan had been certain it would be—his mother did nothing in moderation.
Despite the crowd, Aidan spotted Lady Blessingame shortly after he had arrived. His expression hardened when he saw she still wore half-mourning for Harry. Made his stomach churn. Had she’d loved the churl that much? How could he have been so wrong about her three years ago! All he knew then of her was her sweetness and a lively, fun intelligence. He never would have imagined she hid a wanton trollop behind the mask she wore in front of him. That made her as good an actor and liar as Harry.
He had asked the same question over and over in the intervening years, and still had no answers, and still the pain of her betrayal lingered.
She moved elegantly, no longer displaying the exuberant bounce of youth that he well remembered. She greeted those she knew with warmth and welcomed introductions to those she didn’t know with a graceful smile. The guests represented the best of society; however, the subdued, elegant gown she wore made her stand out all the more in the glittering throng around her. All the easier to avoid her, he sourly thought.
He lounged against one of the white alabaster columns that rimmed the ballroom and watched her. Oh yes, she was still quite the dissembler.
The only time he saw her discomfited was when Lord Candelstone came near her. It appeared she purposely slid around a large fern to the back shadows of the alabaster column near where she’d stood.
When Candelstone passed on, she came out from hiding, her expression cold.
That was interesting to observe.
The next moment, a young buck came up to talk to her, and she was all smiles and laughter once again.
* * *
Bella sawMr. Nowlton watching her.
The laughter and smiles she bequeathed to those around her grew louder and brighter. She would not allow Nowlton to spoil her enjoyment of the ball. This was an event for dear Ann and the Duke of Ellinbourne. Nowlton’s sour disposition did not belong here, and she would not allow him to lead her to the same attitude.
She sighed as she risked another glance in his direction. She did not want him to know she’d noticed him. But he looked quite handsome standing over to the side of the room, in a pose of casual elegance, as he studied the crowd of guests and watched her.
“Oh, Aidan,”she whispered to herself.
The Marquess of Sherringvale’s son came up to solicit her for the next dance. She couldn’t remember the young man’s name; however, she smiled brightly at him and let him lead her into the line forming for a country dance.
After the exuberant dance, Bella stood alone, fanning herself, while her dance partner left to fetch a glass of cooling punch.
“He watches you, you know,” came Lord Candelstone’s voice from behind her left shoulder.
She whirled around to confront him. Her mistake had been in not returning to her position near the wall, preventing surprise encounters. Harry would have reprimanded her for that.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“You need to come back to work for me,” he said.
“The war is over, Lord Candelstone. I am retired.”
He snorted. “Wars abound, threatening the fabric of our society.”
She frowned at him and started to turn away.
He laid a gloved hand on her forearm to stop her.
She looked down at his hand.
“There are terrorists in this country,” he continued, “who communicate amongst each other in code. We need you to decipher their communications so we can route these traitors out.”
“No.” She pushed his hand off her arm. “Leave me alone.”
“I cannot do that, Lady Blessingame. You owe service to the country.”
Anger flared white hot. “I don’t owe you or the country anything!” she hissed. “Harry saved those letters you sent to him three years ago. The letters where you ordered him to destroy my happiness.”
He did not pretend to not understand her. “Happiness with Nowlton? I saved you from him! You should thank me,” he boasted.
