Hope turned her hand to close it over her grandmother’s. ‘You have done well with us, Grandmama. It is I who am not as grateful as I should be. I promise, I shall dance every dance and have as much fun as I am able, without breaking any hearts at all.’
One broken heart a day was more than enough.
* * *
Hope had been looking forward to the Ellinghams’ ball for reasons that both Charity and their grandmother would have considered sorely misguided. If it went in the manner of all the other balls she had attended this Season it was likely to be an entire evening where nothing of interest happened at all. Tonight, that suited her well.
She stood in the doorway to the ballroom revelling in the utter predictability that awaited her. There was no need to make polite introductions for there was no one here she had not seen a dozen times before. She could perform even the most complicated of dances without missing a step. Even the conversations would not vary from those she had had several times this year. She would not have to think about the entail, the Earl or Mr Drake for four long hours.
It would be heaven.
In the past week, she’d had far too much to think about and too many strange new feelings. With each new day, her life seemed to get more complicated, not less. Perhaps, now that she had driven Mr Drake away, things could go back to the way she had planned. Why could she not find comfort in the thought?
‘Hello, Ellingham. Lovely evening.’
‘Hello, Drake. As always, it is a pleasure.’
Hope clutched the door frame, afraid to turn towards the men talking in the entryway just behind her. There was no need. One was her host. Though the other had been a stranger a week ago, she knew the sound of his voice as well as she knew her own.
Why was he here? Had he followed her? It seemed unlikely since he’d wanted nothing to do with her just a few hours ago. Perhaps he had more than one employer. If so, she had no right to enquire as to his presence here. It was possible that he would not even want to acknowledge her should they meet.
She definitely did not want to see him. At least, not until she could manage to compose herself. She could feel the colour rising in her cheeks already. It would not matter whether they spoke or not. The whole room had but to look at her face to know that there was something between them.
Run!
She was not sure where she meant to go, but she could not stay where she was. In a moment, he could step forward and be at her side. She looked frantically around, spied a corridor to her left, darted down it, grabbed the first door handle she saw and slipped into the unlocked room, shutting the door behind her again with a soft click.
The music and chatter of the ballroom faded to a distant murmur. She was safe, isolated from the crowd and the one man she could not bear to see. But where was she hiding?
She turned slowly to examine the room. Apparently, she had chosen Lord Ellingham’s study as her bolt hole. It was unoccupied and likely to remain so, for the only light came from the embers of the banked fire.
If she stayed here for just a few minutes, Mr Drake would disappear into the crowd. While she waited, she could prepare a proper response in case they met. She could practise it in the mirror, just as she did for the Earl.
The thought made her smile. It was a shame she did not have Mr Drake’s composure. Other than those few moments in the salon, he had been unflappable. He had threatened to quit the job, but she doubted he would. There were still three items left on the list the Dowager had given her. She could not imagine that he would give up before he thought the job had been completed, no matter how awkward the interaction between them had been.
Or perhaps there were only two items.
She stared at the desk in front of her and the inkwell sitting on top of it. She had seen it hundreds of times in the same spot on her grandfather’s desk in his study at the manor.
Hope’s palms itched with the urge to grab it and run. Why should she not? It belonged in her family home, not in the house of some bargain hunter who graced his desk with castoffs from the Lombard merchants. Even better, she would be able to show Mr Drake that she was not totally reliant on his help. The quicker she could reclaim the items on the list, the sooner they could be truly free of each other.
As it had this afternoon, the idea of his departure raised a strange mix of feelings in her, both anticipation and dread. It was another sign that he should go. She had never been so confused by the presence of a man in her life. Who knew one kiss could cause such disruption?
If she hoped to leave the room at all this evening, she must not think of the kiss. There were more important things, right in front of her. She moved closer to the desk to get a better look at her prize. It was exactly as she remembered it: a graceful well of rock crystal, set upon a gold filigree base.
She held her reticule against the side, pleased to see that it was just big enough. She uttered a brief prayer for forgiveness for the theft and swept the thing off the desk and into her purse. She hurried back to the door, opened it slowly and glanced both ways up and down the hall to make sure she would not be seen escaping. Then she stepped out of the room and walked briskly back towards the ballroom.
‘Miss Strickland.’
She froze in her tracks. ‘Mr Drake?’ How had she not noticed him in her brief search of the corridor? She turned slowly to the sound of his voice, with a smile that she was sure was nowhere near as convincing as the one she had while practising in her own home.
He was standing in an alcove, outside in the hall, and just out of sight of the study door. No. He was not standing. He was lounging, his posture as casual as that of any other young buck at this party. His dress rivalled theirs as well: immaculate blue coat, buff breeches, snowy linen and a cravat that was not just white, butblanc d’innocence virginale.It crossed at the front, not even tied, the creases and folds at his throat in perfect and crisp alignment as if he held them there by dint of his own considerable will.
‘I did not expect to see you here this evening,’ she said. Her voice was embarrassingly breathless.
‘I assumed as much, from the way you ran into a private room to avoid me.’ So this was no chance meeting. He had been waiting in the hall to catch her doing something she should not.
Or perhaps he had been waiting for his chance to do exactly what she had just done. He had come to retrieve the inkwell. Her smile relaxed as she imagined his surprise to find her one step ahead of him. She opened her fan and gave it a coy flutter. ‘My dear Mr Drake, you are mistaken. I was not avoiding you. I was doing what you have obviously come to do for yourself. Now that it has been taken care of, there is no reason for you to remain.’
