The jealous emotion from earlier that morning still held strong—it would cut him in half to see her with another man, but it was going to be inevitable.
He bowed, “My Lady, and Miss Colton.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Smith,” she said smiling. “My parents and I were having a…erm… discussion.”
“How was the ball last night?” he asked.
“Disastrous, but enlightening,” Rachel said as she lay on the couch. Miss Colton placed the blanket over her knees and handed her the book. “I know it sounds bizarre to describe it that way, but that was how it was.”
“Were you here for the festivities, Mr. Smith?” Miss Colton asked him politely.
His brow cocked up. It was the first time she had spoken to him. “I would not say that as I had not left my room. I did hear the music until about three in the wee hours, though.”
Though he replied to the maid, his eyes were on Rachel and wondered why she ducked her head and bit a corner of her lip. “Was it a merry event though, My Lady?”
She looked up. “I do not know. I left it in under half an hour.”
“May I ask why?”
Opening the book, she said, “I was not feeling well.”
Feeling it prudent not to prod, William moved to his easel. “How horrible on the best day of your life.”
“One of them,” Rachel said. “It is only one of them.”
The pride he heard in her voice made him smile as he plucked up his pencil. “Glad to hear that.”
***
While meandering through the twisting trails of the maze that evening, William was surprised when he found Rachel there, sitting at the base of the fountain and gazing up into the sky.
“Oh—” he exclaimed. “Surprising to see you here. I had thought you would be at church.”
Her gaze snapped to him, “Why would you think so?”
Unwilling to confess that he had overheard her and her family arguing, he shrugged, “Is it not a part of your life?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed, but she inclined her head. “It is, but not tonight. My parents are away, though.”
He joined her at the statue's base and reached for her hand. It was warm, and her grip matched his. “Pray tell, why are you here, alone?”
“I—” she sighed. “I needed some air. My parents have told me that they are arranging three more balls for me instead of two more. I told them this morning that I…was not particular to any of the Lords they introduced me to. After a spirited conversation, they agreed to find other suitors.”
His lips twitched at her description of the argument as a spirited conversation.
“What was it about these men that you did not like?” he asked.
Instead of telling him, she leaned on his shoulder and tilted her head up. “You said that you are a romantic, so you know what women dream about a lord. Tall, handsome, trim, muscular, a knight of the olden times, rugged but has a sweet touch. A man who is protective, brilliant, caringand who sees me as the stars and the moon to his life.”
“Aye.”
She titled her head up, “I did not get to know any of the lords, but the ones I met certainly failed the handsome, tall, muscular, and trim aspect. And—” she wrinkled her delicate retroussé nose, “—they were as old as Moses.”
A peal of laugher burst from him; his head threw back at the humor at her unexpected jab. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline.
“I would have loved to see that,” he chuckled.
She rested a hand on his chest and nestled into his neck. “I would have rather not been there.”
