He still was impossibly ancient, but Helena doubted she was alone in wondering whether the young lady by his side should be credited with the change. She was blonde and lovely, perhaps even younger than Helena, her gaze downcast modestly as the duke beamed at her with pride. His manner was protective and Helena knew she could not be the only one who suspected this must be his intended duchess.
And yet, she was not disappointed to find her own ambitions thwarted. She wished him joy. She wished both of them joy.
Indeed, she could not recall why she had imagined the duke to be so alluring.
The orchestra began to play and the guests cleared the floor. A few couples moved to take their positions for the dance to begin, and Helena gripped her hands together in anticipation when she caught sight of the viscount again. The squire’s son cleared his throat pointedly, but her gaze was fixed on Lord Addersley.
Would he dance?
Had she persuaded him?
Would he dance with her? Helena hoped with all her heart that he might.
But the man in question turned, bowed, and invited the duke’s ward to dance.
This could not be!
Helena stared, knowing her shock and dismay would be evident to all, and not caring a whit. He led the lady to the dance floor and turned her elegantly, then they began to dance. That he danced beautifully was no consolation when he danced with another.
Helena had convinced him to compromise his vow, yet he had done as much for someone else, someone he did not even know.
“You did refuse him, my dear,” Aunt murmured from beside her and Helena knew she flushed crimson.
“Refuse who?” the squire’s son asked, looking between Helena and the dancers.
That folly had been before, before she saw the viscount’s merit, before she fell in love with him, before she knew that he was the only man who would satisfy her.
But her realization had come too late. She flung herself through the doors to the terrace, not caring who saw her distress or how scandalous her behavior might be considered.
“Miss Emerson?”
Helena spun at the sound of a familiar voice. The viscount was silhouetted in the lights of the ballroom, and she hated that she could not see his features.
His expression would be inscrutable, though, she knew that much and the realization made her smile. The truth of his thoughts was in his voice and his manner, and she could hear that he was uncertain of his welcome. Her mouth was dry but she turned to face him, striving to hide her own uncertainty.
“I thought you did not dance,” she said, then feared it sounded like an accusation.
He stepped toward her, apparently undeterred. “I have been assured of the merit of seizing what opportunity presents itself.”
“I thought you did not plan to attend this evening.”
“And so I did not, but again, I was reminded of the risk of lost opportunity.” He stood before her now, his features shadowedbut his eyes glinting. “Dare I hope that my presence is not unwelcome?”
“Of course not,” Helena said, feeling flustered by his scrutiny.
“And what of my companionship here?”
“I am honored by your attentions,” she managed to say.
“I would have you know, Miss Emerson, the reason why Lady Haynesdale summoned me yesterday. I meant to confide it in you afterward, but...” A frown touched his brow and she longed to smooth it away with a fingertip.
“But matters went awry,” she provided and he nodded agreement.
“They did, indeed. Lady Haynesdale is possessed of a notion that I am in need of a bride, and convinced that the duke’s ward would be the ideal choice. She would not be readily dissuaded from her view, and insisted I claim the first three dances with Mlle. LaFleur.” His gaze met hers and Helena’s heart leapt with hope.
“You danced only one,” she noted.
“Indeed.” He captured her hand in his and lifted it, entwining their fingers and watching their hands. That gave Helena the opportunity to watch him closely and admire, not just his attractiveness but his very nature. Of course, he kept a promise that he made. He was reliable in all things. It was part of what she loved about him. “I confess that when I was obliged to make that promise, it was my hope that I would be otherwise committed by this evening. In being thus, no one would be able to fault me for letting another man take Mlle. LaFleur to the floor first.” His gaze slid to hers again, his manner so intent that Helena felt hot to her toes.
