A comfort? How so? Why did she need that? Because of her parents’ deaths? He knew that had been a trying time, and he didn’t think her brother had been especially helpful. Had she not enjoyed her years in Switzerland? She’d already mentioned her aunt could often be challenging. He wished they were alone so he could ask for details.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Lady Bolton reached out to touch her arm. “I’m so pleased we met.” She sent her husband a pointed look. “Not everyone appreciates our literary league or its mission.”
“Isn’t it to read and discuss books?” Aunt Eleanor asked.
“Yes, of course.” Lady Bolton nodded. Then her lips tightened. “But we have other interests. Those are secondary, obviously, despite rumors to the contrary.”
Philip frowned, uncertain as to what she referred. Clearly, her words held a hidden meaning he’d missed.
Bolton shook his head. “The gossip will pass.” His gaze met his wife’s, and his entire countenance softened. “I can’t deny that I’m pleased the league has other agendas in addition to chatting about books.”
Lady Bolton laughed. “I certainly have no regrets.”
“Hmm.” Philip glanced around the group, noting Eliza seemed to have found something interesting to watch across the room. “I feel as if I’ve missed something.”
Lady Bolton waved a hand in the air. “Nothing important, Your Grace.”
“Very well.” He hoped Eliza would shed some light on it as he had the feeling she knew what was truly being said even if she pretended indifference at the moment.
The musicians began to play in earnest, indicating the dancing had begun. Excellent. The idea of holding Eliza filled him with anticipation.
“Lady Eliza, may I have the honor of the next dance?”
Her eyes widened in surprise and what he hoped was pleasure. “I should like that very much.”
It wouldn’t do to ask her for the very first dance as that would imply he was interested in courting her.
Which he wasn’t, he reminded himself. Nothing of the sort. Eliza was not for him. If only the reminder didn’t leave a sour taste in his mouth.
Eliza was pleased to learn that Philip was friends with Lord and Lady Bolton. To think she had one more thing in common with him was welcome.
Lady Bolton’s obvious interest as she looked between Eliza and Philip made Eliza even more excited. It almost seemed as if her new friend thought there was hope for a match between them. Somehow, that had Eliza wondering if it truly was possible.
They conversed for a while longer, but with each moment that passed, Eliza’s nerves grew taut with anticipation until she felt as if she were strung like an archer’s bow.
As the music finally faded, she glanced under her lashes toward Philip, who continued to visit with Lord Bolton. Had he forgotten? Should she remind him that they were to dance?
Aunt Frieda joined them, and Eliza nearly screamed in frustration as more introductions were made.
“Oh yes, the literary league.” Her aunt nodded. “Eliza is quite pleased to have joined.”
Disappointment settled into the pit of her stomach as the clock ticked and it seemed clear that she and Philip were not going to dance after all.
“I do believe you promised me this dance, Lady Eliza.”
She nearly sighed with relief and turned to face him with a smile. “Indeed, I did.”
He frowned in response. “Is something amiss?”
Realizing her smile must be overly bright, she reminded herself to better control her emotions and took his offered hand. “Not at all.”
She glanced at the others as Philip said, “If you’ll please excuse us.”
Aunt Frieda didn’t seem overly impressed that she was dancing with Philip. Was that because she assumed His Grace was only doing so because of his friendship with Winston?
The thought dimmed her smile because it was a painful reminder of the truth.
Philip was dancing with her because she’d asked for his help. And he’d agreed to that because of his friendship with her brother. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have looked twice at her.
