Emily’s gaze lingered a fraction longer than politeness required before she excused herself, leaving them alone within the shifting crowd.
“You have been searching for me,” he said quietly. “I noticed.”
“I have been watching the door.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
The honesty felt deliberate. His expression altered slightly at that, as though he had been expecting her to deny it. She would have, if not for the fact that she had been caught so off guard by his presence. He commanded it in a way she had never anticipated, and it left her with quite the lack of intelligent speech.
“Forgive the delay,” he said. “An obligation detained me.”
“You are here now,” she said.
“I am.”
The music swelled again.
“May I claim the next set?” he asked.
“You may.”
As he led her toward the forming lines, she became aware of eyes upon them. Poppy stood at the edge of the floor with her partner, preparing to join them. Margaret offered her a small smile before turning back to the Duke.
The dance began. Their hands met, then separated, then met again. Conversation around them faded as their focus turned to their steps, but Margaret had little interest in that.
“Your sister seems content.”
“She has found a suitor before the first dance has even begun. She has reason to be pleased with herself.”
“Of course. And what of your other sister?”
Margaret looked for Emily and found her on the outskirts alone. Her heart ached for her, hoping that her sister did not feel left out, but there was also a certain comfort in it. Thanks to what Margaret was doing, she would be able to wait until she found what she was looking for.
She held his gaze as they turned.
“She will find a gentleman that she likes,” she explained. “Eventually, I hope.”
“As do I. She is a young lady that I admire, and I hope that she does not lose that attitude of hers in an attempt to find a husband. I would like her to be like you in that respect.”
The words carried more weight than she assumed he had intended. He did not look away. The set continued, measured and precise, yet beneath the pattern something had shifted. Hehad arrived at the ball and asked her to dance with him, and she had cared whether he would.
The final note faded and applause scattered lightly across the room. Margaret felt warmth in her cheeks that had nothing to do with exertion. Nathaniel bowed, though his eyes did not leave her face.
“Walk with me,” he said, low enough that only she heard. “I should like to speak with you without all these eyes upon us.”
He did not wait for an answer, and his hand remained steady at her side as he guided her toward the open terrace doors. The night air met them gently, cooler than the crowded ballroom. Music drifted outward, softened by distance.
Once outside, he did not release her. He studied her instead. There was an intensity in his eyes that she was not entirely accustomed to.
“There is something troubling you,” he said gently. “I can see it.”
“It is difficult,” she replied. “That is all.”
“What is?”
“This is.”
