He shrugged as they twirled on the dance floor.
“A connection? It is ever so rare, but it is it not something to strive for?”
She knew he was talking about the connection the two of them had discovered yet knew she could not agree with him.
“Of course, and some ladies might be in the position to wait for such a connection, to indulge in such a thing. I, on the other hand, am not.” she paused and glanced up directly at him. “However much I might wish for it.”
He opened his mouth, his face suddenly soft and full of regret. Alas, the music had ended, and the couples were disbursing.
“It was a pleasure to share this dance with you, Your Grace.” She curtsied before him and then departed, leaving him behind her.
* * *
“My dear Lady Rowena, I must say, you are indeed a vision on the dance floor,” the Duke of Thornmouth stood on the sidelines, having spent the cotillion conversing with her parents who were now taking a spin themselves.
‘Thank you, Your Grace is ever so kind.” She noticed for the first time the scar above his left eye and wondered how he had received it. Suddenly, he reached his hand up and toward his eyebrow and ran a finger over the scar.
“I received it in battle in France.”
She gasped and clasped a hand in front of her mouth. “How terrible. Waterloo?”
He nodded and dropped his hand beside him. “Unpleasant business, that. Let us not dwell on it further. I do not wish to have our first evening together as a future couple ruined by talk of war.” He looked off into the distance and Rowena turned to see what he was looking at.
Her heart sank. It was the Duke of Westmond he was looking at. He was presently speaking with Catherine, who scribbled on her dance card.
“Duke Westmond appears eager to dance with your entire family, it appears.”
Rowena wasn’t sure what the undercurrent in the man’s voice was. Jealousy perhaps? Just in case, she decided to further placate him.
“My Father requested he dance with my sister, given that it is her coming-out ball and dancing with an eligible duke is most sought after.” She smiled at him, “And since you are no longer available, Your Grace–”
His face lit up at the mention of their future union and she found that, without his serious expression he was quite handsome. There was even a trace of kindness in his face. Yet, she could not help but think of the way the Duke of Westmond had looked at her, the goodness that was so evident in his eyes.
She shook her head, chasing the thoughts from her mind. Before her, the man she was to marry broke into a kind smile and offered her his arm.
“That is true, indeed. I am no longer available, and neither are you. And a glorious development it is, especially for me. Would you care to accompany me for a walk, to take the air?”
She nodded, not really wanting to leave, and yet knowing she could not say no for fear of upsetting him. She took his arm and allowed herself to be led into the garden, the same garden she had walked toward when the Duke of Westmond had stopped her in her tracks. This time, however, she made it outside.
They walked along the lighted path past several other couples who had decided to take the same opportunity for alone time.
“What a lovely evening it is.”
She nodded, “It is.”
He glanced at her, a grin on his lips.
“And what a lovely lady you are, Lady Rowena. Allow me to express the joy it brings me to be side by side with you once more. I have to confess: you had not left my thoughts since our last dance.”
She swallowed, remembering how she’d struggled to recall their earlier connection.
“Your Grace is too kind,” she simply said.
“I am glad you think so.” He paused for a moment, then looked at her intently. “I realize I have not yet apologized for my tardiness. I was held up in a meeting with the Lords Portsmouth and Darton, regarding an unfortunate matter back home. You will surely read about it in the papers tomorrow.”
Portsmouth? Did he say Lord Portsmouth? Betsy’s future employer? Could it be?
“Lord Portsmouth of Bedfordshire?”
