“I mean—” She heaved a breath, and the lace at her neck quivered with her effort. “We’re planning a ball. A Christmas ball.”
“Oh?” Did that mean he was invited? Hope filled him.
“A charity ball. I mean it’s a Christmas ball for charity.”
“That’s wonderful.” But still, she didn’t invite him. His chest tightened, and he clenched his hand at the worry that he wouldn’t be welcome.
She waved a gloved hand in the air. “I don’t suppose...I mean, I’m certain you have other obligations...but perhaps—”
“Yes. Yes, I’d be delighted to attend.” His exuberance caused her gaze to drop, making him realize his error. “I mean if that’s possible. Or perhaps...” Blast. He sounded as if he couldn’t put a coherent sentence together. It was only that she made it difficult to think.
“Oh.” That seemed to be her favorite word.
“If I can be added to the guest list.” There. That sounded reasonable and as if he had possession of his wits.
“Of course.” Her brow puckered most delightfully. “That is, tickets are being sold as it is for charity.”
“Well, if there are any remaining, I would be happy to purchase one. As well as make a donation, if that is acceptable.” There went more of the money he’d so carefully saved.
But if doing so placed him in her good favor, he would promise it twice over.
“That would be good. Wonderful, actually.” The joy in her eyes lit the burning embers inside him, reminding him just how much he cared for Miss Frances Melbourne.
Then his pleasure dimmed as he wondered if her reaction was only because he’d promised a contribution to her cause. The thought was terribly depressing.
Frances’ thoughts scattered upon the four winds, keeping her from forming an intelligible sentence. Her cheeks heated as she worried what Thomas must think of her.
It was just that his appearance was so unexpected. Everything she’d longed for and more. If only she could tell him how much she’d missed him. How she hoped they could spend some time together while he was home.
But no. She wasn’t capable of doing so, nor did she think it would be welcome.
It was clear that he was happy with his new life. How appropriate that he now lived in New York. New. Not old. And she represented the former part of his life that he no longer needed. Or wanted.
Her heart ached at the thought. She’d missed her chance. If only this terrible shyness didn’t plague her. Even though the realization angered her, her tongue was still tied.
“Are you certain?” he asked. Doubt shadowed his expression. As if he wasn’t sure of his welcome.
The notion caught her by surprise. She studied his face, convinced she was mistaken. “Yes, most definitely. You can go as my guest.”
“Your guest?”
Her heart caught at the emphasis he placed on the word. As if he wanted to be hers. Or rather, her guest.
She gave herself a mental shake. That couldn’t be what he meant. He had a new life and was only home briefly for Christmas. The thought made her heart ache in the most awful way.
It was clear Thomas was lost to her.
Her gaze shifted just past Thomas’ shoulder to her maid, who pretended not to be listening. Better that they left before she said anything to truly embarrass herself.
“I should be going,” she managed.
“Here it is.” The shop clerk came from the depths of the shop with a book in hand and glanced between the two of them, seeming surprised that his two customers were conversing.
“Thank you,” Thomas said as he took the book from the clerk, holding it as if it were made of gold. He ran a hand over the cover then slowly opened it with reverence, causing her heart to twist.
“A Christmas Carol?” Frances couldn’t help but ease closer to view it, a pang of envy striking her. “That is one of my favorites.”
“It’s a gift. For my father.” Thomas grinned. “He’ll be very pleased to have a first edition.”
