He started to refuse but then realized taking to the floor might be the best way to get away from the crowd. He only needed to call for Isolde, take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor. They could even perhaps speak as they danced. A crowded ballroom was not the best place to speak of his feelings, but at the very least, he could manage to set a definite time for them to converse alone later.
“I think I can manage a dance or two,” he said, smiling. He once again turned to look for Isolde, and once again Cassian interrupted him.
“Wonderful! I have your first dance partner here,” Cassian said. Too late, Thaddeus realized he had made a grave error and watched grimly as Cassian stepped aside and Vivienne took his place.
Of course, he could hardly refuse her with everyone watching – it would be a grievous insult. Much as he was annoyed with her and her schemes of late, he did not think she deserved to be spurned in front of an audience.
Nor did he wish for any whispers to make the rounds on the ton about how poorly he treated his guests.
“Ah, Lady Bradshaw,” he said. “Of course.” He held out his hand, doing his best not to let his annoyance show on his face. She took it, and he led her out onto the floor as the musicians began to play.
They started to dance, and he was dimly aware that she was saying something to him, but he could not focus on her. Every time they moved, he searched his new view for some sign of Isolde.
And finally, they turned, and he caught a flash of red hair. She was standing on the edge of the ballroom – or rather, she was walking along it, seemingly trying to escape the gentleman who was just behind her, speaking to her. He looked to be trying to pull her onto the dance floor, but she was refusing.
Thaddeus ignored the steps of the dance, keeping him and Vivienne moving in place so he could keep watching. She muttered in confusion, but he paid it no attention. Another couple moved out of his way, and he caught sight of the man’s face – it was Crowley. He froze, a sick feeling creeping up his throat. Whatever the truth was about he and Isolde’s relationship, he knew she certainly did not want to dance with Lord Crowley.
Just then, Isolde turned her head, and their eyes met. She stopped, staring at Thaddeus. He nearly shouted out her name across the dance floor.
The moment hung between them, suspended, and then Isolde’s face went pale, and she turned, running out of the tall doors into the garden. Crowley frowned and followed her.
Then he did say her name, startling several couples around them. He dropped Vivienne’s hands.
“Excuse me, Lady Bradshaw, I must attend to my fiancée.”
Vivienne grasped at his arm as he pushed past her, pulling him to a stop and then stepping in front of him.
“You can’t leave me here like this,” she hissed, panicked. “Miss Fairchild is a grown woman; she can look after herself.”
He glared down at the woman, whose eyes widened at his glower. She dropped her hand from his arm but remained between him and the garden doors.
“I must insist you move out of my way at once, Lady Bradshaw,” he said, his voice quiet but ominous. Without a word, Vivienne took a step back, and Thaddeus hurried after Isolde and Crowley.
Chapter 23
Isolde hurried further into the gardens, breaths quick and shallow, pulse racing. For a moment, she’d had such hope. When Thaddeus had appeared, she’d felt everything would be okay.
All she needed to do was step forward, ask to speak with him. She cursed herself for not moving more quickly. The surprise of seeing him and the rush of emotions that came with that had halted her, and some part of her had wanted to stay in that moment.
It had felt they were the only two people in the world, and she’d longed to hang onto that feeling.
And then he’d been swarmed by the other guests, her chance lost as she was pushed farther away from him. She had tried to push her way back to him, but the crowd was too thick and the excitement too high.
Her voice had been drowned amongst all the others. And then Crowley had appeared by her side, forcing her to move away as she tried to get him to leave her alone.
He’d pursued her around the room, and then she had looked up to see Thaddeus on the dance floor, in Lady Bradshaw’s arms. Itwas as if her hopes had all been dashed on sharp rocks, and she’d had to escape.
She could hear someone running after her, and she hoped desperately that it was Thaddeus, wanted to turn to see if it was – but she dared not in case it was Lord Crowley.
So she just plunged on, heedless of the path she took. “Miss Fairchild!” She heard Crowley’s voice call behind her. So it was him on her heels. The memory of him accosting her last time they were alone in a garden flashed before her eyes, and she hurried her steps.
Fully running now, she skidded around the corner of a hedge – and nearly ran into a stone wall. She had turned into a dead end.
She heard Crowley’s footsteps behind her, and somewhere nearby, a woman was laughing softly. She thought she caught a man’s deep voice, as well. She wondered if she dared to cry out for help, but stayed quiet, hoping that Crowley had not seen where she’d gone, and would pass by her unawares.
No such luck. He rounded the corner, face red from running, and frowned at her.
“You are testing my patience, Miss Fairchild,” he said, striding toward her.
