“Yes,” Hazel said simply. “She usually is.”
Chastity shot her a sideways glance. “Are you?”
Hazel considered the question as the stars glimmered faintly above them. “I am… attentive,” she said at last. “But not alarmed.”
Chastity smiled with relief. “Good. Because I did not mean to cause trouble.”
“I know,” Hazel replied.
They continued walking, just the two of them now, the space between sisters widening and narrowing with each step.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Greyson extricated himself from Jasper and Robert with practiced ease.
He murmured something suitably vague about air and overcrowded rooms, endured Jasper’s knowing look with a patience he would not have possessed an hour earlier, and stepped away before either man could object.
The ballroom pressed upon him suddenly. It was too warm, too loud, and too full of eyes that seemed intent on measuring what ought not be measured.
More to the point, Hazel was no longer at his side. A flicker of unease stirred. It was not alarm, for he was not so foolish, but it was still a quiet awareness of absence. He had grown accustomed, with unsettling speed, to knowing precisely where she stood.
The terrace doors lay open, curtains stirring faintly with the night air. Greyson hesitated only a moment before making his way toward them.
Outside, the air was cool and clean, which was a welcome contrast to the crush within. He drew a steady breath, letting the night settle him, and stepped fully onto the terrace. Stone gleamed pale beneath the moonlight, while the gardens beyond lay hushed and restrained in their beauty.
That was the exact moment a woman barged in through the terrace door, without even checking to see whether someone was there. She was young, perhaps newly out, and her gown was pale and delicate… andtorn. The silk had caught somewhere along the side seam, leaving a narrow but unmistakable rip that would become mortifyingly visible the moment she returned indoors.
She startled when she noticed him.
“Oh… Your Grace,” she said quickly, freezing, with one gloved hand instinctively moving to conceal the damage. “I… I beg your pardon. I did not realize anyone else was here.”
Greyson halted at once. His instincts were already shifting into problem-solving rather than retreat.
“There is no need to apologize,” he said evenly. “Are you injured?”
“No, no, nothing of the sort,” she replied, her cheeks flushing as she glanced down at her gown. “I caught the fabric on the balustrade when I stepped outside. I did not feel it tear at first, but when I turned…” She broke off, clearly mortified. “I cannot possibly return to the ballroom like this.”
Greyson followed her gaze. The tear was not extensive, but it was unmistakable. It was enough to draw attention and cause embarrassment that would linger far longer than the evening itself.
“Do you have anything with you?” he asked. “A brooch, perhaps? Or a pin in your reticule?”
She looked up, startled, then searched quickly through the small bag hanging from her wrist. “Yes,” she replied with relief. “I do. But…” She hesitated. “In order to fasten it properly, I would need to lift the fabric. Even slightly. I cannot… if anyone were to see?—”
Greyson did not hesitate.
“If you permit it,” he said, already unbuttoning his coat, “I will shield you.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Your Grace?”
He slipped the coat from his shoulders and held it open. “I will wrap it around you. Should anyone step onto the terrace, they will see nothing improper. But you must be quick.”
Her eyes widened, then softened with gratitude. “That is… a splendid idea. Thank you.”
He stepped closer, mindful of propriety even as circumstances pressed them into proximity, and draped the coat carefully around her shoulders, angling his body so that his back faced the open terrace doors. The night air brushed his collar, but he scarcely noticed it.
“You are quite safe,” he said quietly. “Go on.”
She worked quickly beneath the coat. Her fingers were nimble despite her nerves. Greyson kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead, his every sense attuned to the possibility of interruption. He was acutely aware of how it must appear, but his concern extended only to discretion and her comfort.
