Esme stared at the tightly corded ropes of the ring. “He isn’t mine.”
Jane was quiet for what felt like a very long moment, then she said, “That’s what stood out to you? That I told you he was yours?”
A glare from the corner of her eye was all Esme could muster. “You are blowing all my reactions out of proportion. I know exactly what this situation is, Jane. I know what I can and cannot expect and what I must and must not do. I’m not a fool. I cannot depend on some man to determine my fate. Even this one who hasn’t proven himself to be anything but?—”
She cut herself off and Jane raised her eyebrows. “Oh, Esme.”
“Don’t,” Esme said, and hated how her voice became choked. “Please don’t. I’m going to his ball tonight, and I’m tired of arguing about it.” She pushed the bottom ring rope down and ducked under the top one to join the other women who were sparring.
Jane shook her head and as Esme stepped up to one of the other women to begin her own practice session, she heard Jane say, “It seems the worst danger might be him, not anything else.”
Esme ignored her, but in her heart she knew those words were true. She was becoming increasingly attached to Finn, and that could lead to nothing but pain, heartbreak and potentially worse if she couldn’t regain some control over herself.
Finn had always enjoyed a ball. Unlike his unlucky sister, he had been popular from the first time he stepped out as a man, always surrounded by friends and admirers. He was a proficient dancer and a practiced flirt, so ladies always flocked to him, filling his time with mindless conversation. And sometimes after the balls, he’d been able to manage encounters with willing widows or bored ladies who were desperate for pleasure outside of the bounds of their awful marriages.
None of it had ever meant anything, but tonight as he stood in his ballroom, there was a great deal of meaning to everything.
First, it was his sister’s engagement gathering. She was currently surrounded by cooing ladies, all of whom seemed to hang on her every word as she spoke about her long friendship turned love with Sebastian. If the couple had feared a scandal over the sudden engagement, it seemed they would not have it. Sebastian’s utter and obvious devotion to her had squelched any talk about wallflowers forcing marriage upon unwilling rakes.
And so, Marianne had a celebration instead of a refutation of changes against her character and worth. Finn couldn’t have been more pleased.
That would have been his only emotion had he not kept looking at the door, waiting for the arrival of his secondreason for this gathering: an excuse to connect with the current Marquess of Chilton. The man was late and more than fashionably. If he didn’t come, well, Finn would have argued with Esme for nothing. There should have been more to it but there it was.
He hated that they’d quarreled. Hated that she’d hardly looked at him when he said goodbye. Hated that they hadn’t interacted since that moment. He missed her, strange as an idea as that was. Missed her touch and her company, but also her smile and the sound of her voice.
As he pondered that thought, he felt someone touch his elbow and turned to see that Marianne had approached him as he brooded. She smiled up at him, face lit with pleasure and happiness.
“Do you have a dance for your sister?” she asked. “Or have the debutantes forced their claim on you for the entire night?”
He didn’t tell her he’d been studiously avoiding anyone who looked as though they wished to dance, but smiled. “I’ll always have a dance for you.”
He took her arm and guided her to the floor where they began to twirl in time to the music. Marianne was quiet as they did so, studying his face with a worried expression.
“You don’t appear happy, Finn,” she said at last.
He made himself smile. “For you? I’m over the moon.”
Her hand gripped his a little tighter. “Thank you. But what aboutyou?”
“What do you mean?” he asked past a suddenly dry throat. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her about his current dilemma. It wasn’t safe for one and he wasn’t certain he could make her understand for another.
She shook her head. “Phineas, I’m not blind, you know. I can see you’ve been troubled for a while.”
“You and Sebastian might have had just a little to do with that, you know. A brother can only take so many shocks to the system, even if they lead to great happiness.” He said it in a teasing tone and was pleased that she blushed and smiled.
“I admit our imprudence in the countryside adding to your overall discomfort was something I’d thought of. But…but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Larger than us. Isn’t thereanythingI can do to assist you?”
The music had begun to filter away and the couples were bowing and curtseying to each other before they filed off the floor. Finn caught Marianne’s hand and lifted it to kiss her knuckles gently.
“Be happy. I promise you that there is nothing in this world that helps me more.”
She touched his cheek before she took his arm so he could lead her from the floor. As he did so, an announcement echoed from the ballroom door.
“The Marquess of Chilton.”
The partygoers paused and looked toward the newcomer, then returned to their conversations as the other man entered the fray. Finn couldn’t help but track him, his heart beginning to pound.
“I didn’t realize Lord Chilton was invited,” Marianne said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. The same one she always got when she smelled something unpleasant. “You and Sebastian aren’t in his circle, I don’t think.”
