Margaret continued forward. Her mother intercepted her near the long table of refreshments, her expression warm but observant in the way that meant she had been watching the room carefully all evening.
“There you are,” Lady Fairleigh said quietly. “Several people have asked after you.”
Margaret inclined her head.
“Then I shall make certain they do not feel neglected.”
“And His Grace?” her mother asked.
Margaret did not hesitate.
“He has been momentarily detained.”
The words came easily, her smile perfectly composed. Her mother studied her for half a second longer, then nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Very well.”
Margaret moved on before the conversation could linger. Lord Ashcroft stopped her next, bowing politely.
“Lady Ravensmere, I must congratulate you. This evening has been splendid.”
“You are very kind,” Margaret replied. “Ravensmere has been quiet for too long.”
He chuckled.
“If tonight is any indication, those days are over.”
She thanked him, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and slipped gently into another conversation before the silence could stretch. The truth was that she did not want to open her home to anyone else ever again, but of course she could not say that.
Every movement felt deliberate. She spoke kindly to Eliza, and allowed a neighbor to recount an amusing story about a disastrous dinner party in Bath. She listened. She laughed softly in the appropriate places. She thanked guests for making the journey.
More than one person remarked upon what a perfect hostess she was, and Margaret accepted the compliments with gracious ease.
No one noticed how tightly her fingers curled against the soft fabric of her gloves, and no one noticed how carefully she kept her gaze away from the ballroom doors. If they did, they did not mention it, and in that moment that was all that she cared about.
From time to time she felt the memory return, the image that had fixed itself behind her eyes the moment she had opened that door.
Arabella’s hand on Nathaniel’s coat, his stillness, the intimacy of the moment she had walked into. Margaret pushed the thought away each time it surfaced.
Another guest inquired again after the Duke. Margaret smiled, not knowing quite what else she could do.
“He has been momentarily detained.”
The phrase came easier with repetition. The orchestra changed to a slower piece and Margaret moved toward the far side of theroom where her younger sister stood speaking animatedly with two friends.
“You look magnificent tonight,” Emily said as Margaret approached.
“Do I?” Margaret replied softly.
“Yes. Everyone says so.”
Margaret smiled again, touching her sister’s arm briefly.
“I am glad they are enjoying themselves.”
Because that, at least, was still within her control. The evening continued. Margaret remained exactly where she was needed, exactly as she was expected to be.
Perfect.
