He rose from the piano stool where he had been sitting. “I shall accompany you.”
Perhaps, he might divert them toward Frances’ house, to see if it was not too late to call upon her. It would be an imposition, with afternoon turning into early evening and another ball to prepare for, but maybe she would make an exception.
“Actually, I thought I might walk alone,” Harriet replied. “With my chaperone, of course.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Iam your chaperone.”
“But Miss Ingram has agreed to walk with me,” Harriet insisted, speaking of the housekeeper. “I do not mean to go far, Papa. I just want to take in some fresh air before dinner.”
Fresh air…
His mind drifted to Frances once more, unable to describe the soaring relief that had bolstered him when he had seen her walk through the gate. In truth, he had not known if she would come to meet him and would not have blamed her if she had not, considering the peril of it. But, she came to him anyway, so fearless and so beautiful, risking so much for a moment alone with him.
“I should come with you,” he insisted.
The grandfather clock down the hallway chimed the hour. Harriet’s head whipped toward the sound, her behavior strange, though Dominic supposed it was just the discomfort of having her father following her everywhere. Maybe, heshouldgive her some time alone. It was not as if anything particularly bad could happen to her in Mayfair, where there were eyes all around.
“On second thought,” she said abruptly. “I should probably return to my chambers and have Miss Ingram start my hair instead. Goodness, there is not enough time. No one warned me that there would be a lack of time.”
Dominic shrugged. “You can walk if you wish; there is no rush to attend the evening’s festivities.”
“No… no, it is quite all right. I would rather make an early entrance tonight,” she replied and, with that, she was gone. Her cloak still rested on the back of a nearby chair, beside the viola that she had not picked up since their arrival.
I hope society does not change her too much.He stared at the instrument, unable to remember the last time she had not played it every day. It would break his heart if she forgot what made her happy, replacing her music and her instruments with the frills and fripperies of theton.
Listening to the sound of her footsteps on the staircase, he sighed, wishing they could all go back to four weeks ago, when Harriet had been safe at Alderwick, and Frances had had no thoughts of leaving. He could not think clearly without greenery and wildness to walk and ride through, his mind as cramped and crowded as the city.
What do I do?He could not be with Frances, and he could not be without her. So, the real question he needed to answer was: which would hurt most in the long run?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Heis the one who should have employed a society tutor,” Frances muttered to herself, as she fidgeted restlessly on the periphery of another grand ballroom.
Lord and Lady Westford always had the privilege of hosting the first true ball of the Season, after the debutantes had been introduced, and they had spared no expense this year. Their imposing home had transformed into a botanical garden, every surface and wall and doorway covered in flowers and foliage, the ceiling turned into some manner of fairy bower, where vines and ivy draped downward.
Breathtakingly beautiful, but Frances could not enjoy it, not until she had given Dominic a piece of her mind.
“Did you say something?” Juliet asked, as she sipped a glass of lemonade.
“I was just remarking on the decorations,” Frances replied, searching the ballroom for any sign of Dominic and Harriet.
Puffing a lock of hair out of her eye, Juliet turned her gaze up to the ivy ceiling. “I fear something unpleasant is about to drop out at any moment. If there is a single spider, the entire ball will fall into chaos.”
“Spiders serve a most excellent purpose,” Lucinda chimed in. “Houses would be overrun with flies if it were not for spiders.”
“I would rather have the flies,” Juliet insisted, the two women descending into another hissed squabble.
At that moment, the music for the previous set came to a slow conclusion, the dancers bowing and curtseying to one another respectively. Some remained to dance again, while the majority were led away from the dance floor, the ladies escorted back to their families or chaperones. And in that shifting of bodies, couples exchanged for couples, Frances’ heart sank as Harriet appeared at the edge of the dance floor.
Dominic must be determined for Harriet to end the Season alone,she cursed silently, as she had to watch that sweet young woman take to the floor with Lord Ainsley at her side. And there, entirely unconcerned, was Dominic, moving off toward the doors that led out onto the terrace.
Without bothering to interrupt her sisters’ argument, Frances marched off, practically shoving her way through the throngof revelers, ignoring the cold looks and muttered insults and indignant yelps.
“Are you mad?” she whispered harshly, as she made it to where he stood, his gaze turned out toward the gardens.
He blinked in surprise. “Frances? I had hoped to see you here. I looked for you, but there are too many people.”
“Forget about me,” she said, drawing something out of her reticule, the papers all crushed and crinkled. “Have you read the scandal sheets today? Do you haveanyidea what you are doing? It is the second ball of the Season, and you are trampling on any hope Harriet might have of becoming the diamond.”
