Iwas generally well-mannered when it came to maintaining direct eye contact during conversation, but my gaze had drifted away from Mr. Yeaton’s face at least five times in the past minute. In my defense, he had been rambling about the status of his gambling debts…and Miss Kellaway was no longer standing beside her mother.
She had vanished. I searched the faces on the outskirts of the room as the quadrille drew to a close. The guests applauded, and I finally caught sight of Miss Kellaway’s face in the farthest corner of the room. She wore a soft shade of yellow silk, the fabric shining under the candlelight. Her hair was like polished copper. The joy that spilled from her features was rather contagious. I recognized the man beside her as her brother, Mr. Edmund Kellaway, who had been at the souvenir shop.
At the moment, he seemed to be introducing her to a gentleman in a burgundy jacket. He bowed, she curtsied. They spoke for a minute or two, and then the man led her to the line of dancers in the center of the room. The musicians prepared forthe next dance, and then another lively tune spilled through the air.
Miss Kellaway laughed at something her partner said as the steps of the dance led them together. They joined hands, and she hopped in time with the music. She was elegant and energetic at the same time, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink. I smiled, a pang of jealousy striking my chest as I noticed the delight on her partner’s face. I was not usually eager to dance at events like these, but dancing with Miss Kellaway I would do.
Gladly.
I took in a quick breath, realizing how empty I had left my lungs during my observation of her. Mr. Yeaton followed my gaze, and I realized that I had been caught. At least it was him and not my sisters.
His features lit up with a knowing smile. “Forgive me, sir. I am keeping you from your other pursuits.”
I shook my head fast, but he was already walking away. At least he didn’t seem offended by my distraction. I was the one who hardly knew what to think of it. Because of Miss Kellaway, I had been working on a small scrapbook for my sister, Margaret. I had been drawing small sketches of the views I saw, keeping an account of the things I heard, and even glueing shells, petals, and feathers to the pages. I told myself that the book was the only reason Miss Kellaway had been on my mind at all over the past few days.
“Well? Are you going to ask her to dance?”
Blast it.Was I really so obvious?
Richard, Joanna’s husband, had crept up on me. His round spectacles were sliding down his nose, his dark eyes far too observant for my liking. His wife had taught him well in the art of meddling.
“Who?” The question fell naturally from my lips. I didn’t know why I was so determined to appear disinterested inanyone, but it might have had something to do with the last time I had been open about my intentions toward a woman. Keeping such matters a secret was far safer and avoiding them altogether was even better.
“The young lady in the yellow.”
I squinted at the dancers as if I had only just noticed her. “Ah. Miss Kellaway.”
“Yes, right.” Richard gave me nudge. “Well, will you ask her?”
I glanced at Miss Kellaway again as she carried out the final steps of the dance flawlessly. A smile pulled on my mouth. “Only because you insist.”
Richard chuckled as I followed Miss Kellaway with my gaze. She returned to her brother’s side, breathless from the dance. She put a hand to her curls, her gaze shifting in my direction. It would be impolite not to acknowledge her, at least, and it would be safest to do so while my sisters’ attention was otherwise engaged. Before I could lose my nerve, my legs carried me across the room.
I stopped two paces in front of Miss Kellaway and offered a bow.
Her blue eyes lifted to mine, a smile still frozen on her lips. “Mr. Croft. I confess I’m surprised that you chose to attend.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You think me a recluse?”
“Your sisters have painted you as one.”
I laughed under my breath. “Of course they have. Speaking ofpainting…I have been documenting Brighton in the book you helped me choose for my sister.”
Miss Kellaway’s eyes lit up. She seemed determined to soften her smile but was failing at the endeavor. “I’m glad to hear it. Although I should like to see these paintings for myself.”
“To determine how hideous they are?”
She laughed. “I never used that term!”
“Forgive me.” I leaned forward. “Novice.”
She looked down, and for a moment she seemed a little shy. It was endearing. Her eyes lifted. “Well, you cannot prove your skill if you continue to hide your work from me.”
“I am not doing so intentionally. It may surprise you to learn that I don’t carry a piece of my work in my jacket when I attend the assembly.”
“And why not? You may use such a thing to your advantage in a ballroom.”
A laugh escaped me. “And how would I do that?”
