He pushed that thought away and got back to his breakfast.
Afternoon brought a steady stream of visitors, people taking advantage of the free afternoon to visit him. Quite a few mentioned the dancing after dinner, and he tried not to feel jealous of all these men who would likely dance with Isolde, while he was stuck up here in his room.
He had expected Vivienne to visit again, as she seemed to be determined to make a daily habit of it, and he was correct. She arrived just before dinner, dressed impeccably, though even with all her finery she still left him cold.
“You look better tonight, My Lord!” she said, flashing him a smile. “I hope you’re feeling better, as well.”
“I am on the mend, but still need quite a bit of rest,” he said. He was not particularly tired, but he hoped she would take the hint and not prolong the conversation.
“Shall I ask Miss Fairchild to look in on you? Or perhaps she’s been already today?” Vivienne gave him what he suspected was meant to be a sympathetic smile. “She and her cousin wastedlong hours of the afternoon down by the lake. They seemed to be having a wonderful time. I would have thought perhaps she would look in on you in her free time but … to each their own.” Vivienne shrugged, and Thaddeus stifled a desire to snap at her.
“I’m actually feeling quite tired now,” he said. “Would you mind leaving me alone to rest?”
Vivienne looked disappointed, but she quickly smoothed out her expression.
“Of course, My Lord. I hope you will recover soon, so we can spend more time together.”
Thaddeus forced a pleasant smile as she saw herself out. No one else came after she left, and he realized dinner must have started. He’d had a tiny hope that Isolde would come to see him today, but he supposed that wasn’t going to happen.
He got up and slowly paced the room, tired of lying in bed and needing to do something with the nervous energy that buzzed through him. The pacing helped a little, and he was relieved to realize he was not getting winded, nor was his head bothering him. It seemed he was nearly well.
His mental condition did not match his physical recovery, though. The longer he paced, the less it helped.
All he could do was imagine Isolde downstairs, sitting next to some faceless but charming man at dinner, talking to him, laughing at his jokes. And then, being asked to dance by him, whirling around in his arms, falling in love with him …
He sat down on the bed, cursing himself for not keeping hold of her hand when she had come to his room that night, for not just making her stay until he could tell her the truth about his feelings.
As of now, she still probably thought that he wished her to fall in love with another man, and the idea of that made his stomach twist into tight knots.
His ears caught a faint tune that he realized must be drifting up from downstairs. The dancing had started, then. He sighed, hitting the bed beside him in frustration. Then, suddenly unable to take it any longer, he got up and opened the door.
“Come, help me wash and dress,” he said to his manservant. “I’m going downstairs.”
***
It took a moment when he entered the ballroom before anyone noticed him. He surveyed the room, which was full of guests, but he was only looking for one face.
“Lord Hartington?” Isolde’s soft voice surprised him, and he turned toward it instinctively. She was standing just inside the room, only a few strides away from him. She looked surprised to see him, but a bright smile was spreading across her face.
“I’m so pleased to see you looking so well,” she said, taking a step toward him. Something about her expression arrested him, made the moment crystallize around them. The sounds of the ballroom fell away, and it was only the two of them. He looked into her eyes, and at that moment, he felt sure that she must feel the same as him.
His heart beat so hard he thought she must be able to hear it. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her everything, but overwhelmed with emotion, he only managed her name.
“Miss Fairchild …”
“Lord Hartington,” she replied, “may we –”
“Lord Hartington!”
Thaddeus was not even sure which guest had shouted his name, because as soon as the cry rang out, everyone turned toward him. Surprised whispers raced around the room and quickly became loud chatter as it seemed like the whole room descended upon him.
Well-wishers pushed themselves between him and Isolde, the moment between them broken. He tried to hold her gaze but lost sight of her.
“Come now, come now, let’s give our host some space.” Over the din of people congratulating him on his recovery and remarking on how much better he looked, he heard Henry’s voice and felt relief course through him.
Henry gently cleared a way for him to step through the crowd. He clasped his brother’s shoulder in thanks and turned to look for Isolde – only to have Cassian pop into his view.
“Harrow, how marvelous that you’re well enough to join us! Might we hope you’re well enough to dance? It is your party, after all. It would be a shame if you could not dance at least once.”
