“There always are,” she agreed. “But there is little profit in binding oneself where affection cannot follow. If your heart belongs elsewhere, I would rather know it without spectacle.”
He inclined his head. “You are gracious.”
“I am practical,” she corrected gently. “Do not apologize. That would insult us both.”
Something in him eased, though he would not have named it relief. “You have my respect,” he said.
“And you have mine.”
She withdrew with quiet dignity, leaving him alone with the hum of the room and the echo of her words.
If your heart belongs elsewhere.
He told himself it did not. That such thoughts were indulgent. That this evening required composure.
Lady Amelia returned to his side with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “You vanished,” she said lightly.
“Only briefly.”
Edward’s gaze switched again, unbidden. Charlotte was no longer near the wall.
He did not like that.
A movement beyond the tall windows caught his attention.
The gardens lay dim beyond the glass, lanterns casting long, uncertain shadows across the gravel paths. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw a familiar figure near the hedgerow—tall, dark coat, posture too relaxed for coincidence.
Liam.
The impression vanished as quickly as it came.
Edward’s chest tightened.
“Forgive me,” he murmured to Lady Amelia before she could anchor him again.
She attempted a protest—light, teasing—but he was already stepping away.
He found Christopher near the card tables, expression tight.
“Have you seen him?” Edward asked quietly.
Christopher gave the slightest nod. “I believe so.”
“Where?”
“Near the west garden path. And Charlotte was not in the house.”
A cold line of dread slid down Edward’s spine.
Christopher’s voice lowered. “Find her. And tell her to be cautious. I do not trust this.”
Before Edward could respond, the first notes of music drifted through the open windows.
A quartet. Violin strings rising in practiced harmony.
Lady Amelia’s voice rang out over the hum of conversation. “Come, everyone! The air is far too stale indoors. We shall take our refreshments to the gardens.”
There was a ripple of approval. Laughter. The scrape of chairs against polished floors.
