Charlotte couldn’t restrain her relief. Her chest relaxed, and she drew a deep breath. She had one more day before she must commit completely to her future. Harris studied her face, and she quickly hedged, “But he gave his blessing?”
“Of course. Did you have any doubt?” Harris smiled one of his most charming smiles, and the ease of it caused her to laugh. He did have a wonderful sense of humor and perfect timing to his wit.
“Truthfully, no. My brother has always liked you.”
“Some of the family was not as immediately persuaded, I think,” he said, squeezing her hand, “but I was up to the challenge.”
She smiled, and a blush colored her cheeks. She would not tell him the shade was the result of guilt that she still wasn’t smitten by him.
“At any rate,” he continued, “because we will not be announcing our good news at dinner, I’ll have to content myself with only two dances tonight. Can I claim the supper dance as well?”
Charlotte nodded. “But, please, make sure you ask other ladies to dance in between. It’s so boorish of lovesick men to dote on only one partner.”
“Noted,” Harris said as the final chords played, and he bowed as she curtsied. He was an exceptional dancer; she had to give him that.
Her card filled up quickly, and she danced set after set. Her feet began to ache as Harris came near and claimed the supper dance.
“How has your evening been?” he asked.
“Lovely.” She smiled. “Though, my feet disagree.”
“As do mine. Did you notice I danced every dance? Looked for the wallflowers every time.”
He really was a good man. As she studied his face, she thought he deserved someone who loved him as much as he should be loved. He had chosen her, though, and she ought to be grateful. “They will all be crying themselves to sleep soon,” she mused, “when they learn you are taken.”
Harris nodded, apparently very pleased with what he perceived as a flirtatious compliment. Charlotte hadn’t meant it that way, but she didn’t correct him. What was the point?
***
With Moxham in the lead, Alex stole through the narrow servants’ corridor in his midnight-blue and forest-green hunting jacket, complete with a black feathered mask, grateful for the dark shades of his costume. Once inside the ballroom, he was instantly swallowed up in a large group of people, and Moxham left to attend to other duties.
It didn’t take Alex long to find Charlotte’s dazzling form and follow her every move. He prayed for the hundredth time that she’d like his idea and accept his scheme. Anticipation heightened every movement, every sense, as he willed himself to keep his wits sharp and his mind unclouded by her beauty.
He overheard someone mention Charlotte’s dance with Lord Ainscough, and he studied the man. Alex had to admit he seemed to be an upstanding gentleman and proficient dancer. Alex would have taken no issue with Ainscough at all had the man not been smiling and gazing at Charlotte like that.
When the dance concluded, the group moved in to dinner, the guests so numerous they spanned two rooms. Alex walked behind Charlotte, hoping to catch a glance at her dance card to learn when she might be free after dinner.
Once he was certain of her plans, he slid through a side door and pilfered a roll from a tray to satisfy his growling stomach. Then he made his way to the conservatory in the back corner of the castle to check that the grounds were unaltered enough that they would allow a place for escape after the ball.
By the time Alex returned, Christopher was standing at a table, raising his glass and explaining in the most pretentious voice how Lady Eloise had consented to his proposal and how they hoped to be wed before Michaelmas.
He had never used to speak like that. This was proof that, over the years, he’d changed and become something Alex hardly recognized.
People clapped and cheered beneath their masks, and more drink and food began to flow out from the kitchen. Chris’s glass had already been refilled once, and Alex hoped the ample beverages and willing partakers would only help his plan transpire more easily. Surely Chris would be completely consumed with well-wishes, fine wine, and doting sycophants for the rest of the evening.
***
No one had spoken for Charlotte’s second dance after dinner, and she perused the crowd, hoping to find Rebekah. As the music started, she couldn’t help but notice that despite the waltz tune, some of the notes sounded almost jiglike. She smiled. She’d let the conductor know it was important to her that a little Northumbrian style surface now and again, and he had listened to her. She glanced at her mother, who didn’t seem to catch the slight change. The strains continued, and Charlotte felt more free as every chord sounded. Did Rebekah notice it too? She was scanning the room again when someone clasped her hand and pulled her into the waltzing position.
She peered into the masked face of the man in front of her and immediately her breath caught. That grasp. Those eyes. Those eyes she’d recognized after a nine-year absence, those eyes she was sure would haunt her dreams for a thousand years to come. How was Alex here?
He must have sensed her shock, because his outstretched arm and his other hand on her waist pulled a little tighter, as if he knew her need to be steadied. Exhilaration surged through her all the way to her gloved fingertips, the sensation so different from when she’d danced with Harris earlier.
“What on earth?” she managed through staggered breaths. “How did you—” She knew she needed to keep her composure, at least outwardly, but her nervousness did not abate. The danger clawed through her happiness and hit with full force. “You know what could happen to you if...” She swallowed back the dark fear that seemed to wrap around her. “I can’t let this continue.”
Alex’s costume shimmered in the light, his footing sure as he spun her with confidence. “Please,” he whispered through nearly closed teeth. “Give me this one dance to explain why I have come, and if you wish to be rid of me when it concludes, I will leave without anyone the wiser.”
Be rid of him? No part of her wanted to be rid of him, but that was why this dance was the ultimate torture. His proximity was a siren call, dooming and alluring, and she knew she must push him away, no matter how much she relished every touch and every glance.
