“Do I dare ask which one? Or both . . . no . . .” Meyer’s brow pinched as he considered the options. “Heightfield, am I right?” An amused grin tipped his lips even as his gaze grew wary.
“I refuse to answer,” Liliah replied cheekily, keeping the conversation lighthearted.
When her heart was anything but.
“Minx, it’s in your eyes. I see it clear as day. The question is . . . why the sudden interest? You have some nefarious plot afoot, and I am at a loss as to what it is.” Meyer’s gaze narrowed.
“I’ll leave it to you to uncover my schemes,” Liliah teased, thanking heaven as the music ended.
Meyer released her abruptly as soon as it was polite, but it was his voice that stopped her short. “Did your father—”
“Yes,” Liliah answered quickly, in a clipped tone. She didn’t want to revisit the earlier conversation with her father, let alone speak of it out loud. The weight of the world settled back on her shoulders.
“One of two.” Meyer whispered the words.
“An announcement,” Liliah echoed in the same tone.
Meyer took her arm and escorted her to the refreshment table with slow, purposeful steps. Rebecca was nowhere to be seen, as Liliah searched for her friend.
“She left.” Meyer answered her unspoken question as he offered her a glass of Madeira, then took one for himself.
Taking the beverage, she sipped it thoughtfully. “I do not blame her.”
“I told her as much,” Meyer replied tightly. “Damn, I hate how helpless I am. At the mercy of my father’s will, and Rebecca—” He snapped his mouth shut as if barely stopping from spilling a secret.
Liliah tilted her head. “What have you two been keeping from me?” she asked quietly.
Meyer’s guilty gaze was all the confirmation she needed. “Nothing that would change our current malady.” His gaze fell to his drink. Closing his eyes, he lifted it to his lips. As he lowered the glass, he sighed, his lips forming that now familiar grim line. “I’ll come find you for the last waltz.” With a curt nod, he left her by the refreshment table.
The air escaped her lungs in a rush as she thought over the implications. Not only was her best friend hiding something, but the nail in the coffin of her and Meyer’s betrothal was to be secured tonight.
Two waltzes.
They might as well leave the ballroom married.
All that was left was the announcement in theTimes, and the reading of the banns.
Time was sifting away like sand in an hourglass.
And soon it would be too late.
There had to be a way out.
If only she could find it.
If only.
Chapter Twelve
Lucas circled the ballroom a second time, scanning the crowd for Liliah. His gaze narrowed at the stricken expression on her face a moment before she all but darted from the crowded ballroom, heading toward the darker hall. Frowning, he searched for the reason for her abrupt departure. Meyer’s visage was strained, and Lucas questioned if perhaps Meyer had upset Liliah. Yet his expression was just as distraught. Meyer didn’t strike him as a severe type of fellow, yet in a short span of time he’d seen him do little more than scowl.
He stepped around the milling people, heading toward the hall where Liliah had disappeared. The gears of his mind worked tirelessly with each step. Perhaps the titter about Meyer and Lady Liliah held some validity. True, many marriage arrangements were based not on emotion but on practicalities of wealth and position It was simply how things were done, was it not? Why would it create an issue of this magnitude? Clearly they were friends; was that not more than most marriages had with which to begin? Granted, even the thought of marriage had Lucas’s stomach clenching with dread, but he had the good sense to realize that others didn’t have his same visceral reaction to matrimony.
Except maybe Meyer.
And Liliah.
Which still was utterly confusing, and he found himself anxious to solve the mystery.
