“Theodora!”
The Duchess of Wutherton appeared beside them with Spencer in tow. Anna seized Theodora’s hand with a look of fierce protectiveness.
“Come,” she said briskly. “We must speak with Maria.”
Theodora looked at her confused. “But?—”
Anna shot her and Alexander a look of pure distaste.
“Alexander,” she greeted him stiffly.
“Anna.” He bowed but she had already whipped around and walked away, dragging Theodora along with her.
Alexander looked at his friend quizzically, but Spencer just gave him an apologetic shrug while Theodora’s pale blue gown disappeared amongst the dancers.
* * *
Theodora’s knees felt weak, not because of the dancing but because of Alexander’s presence and words.
This is absurd.
A simple dance and conversation should not leave her legs unsteady, her breath uneven, nor her thoughts scattered like loose pages in a storm. And yet, as the carriage rolled to a stopin front of the Dowell house, she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself before stepping down.
“Darling, are you quite well?” Her mother’s brow creased with concern as they entered the foyer.
“Yes, Mother,” Theodora said too quickly as she offered her a faint reassuring smile. “I am perfectly well.”
Lady Dowell gave her a calculating look that suggested she believed in none of it and Theodora wondered if her mother sensed that she was keeping deeper, darker secrets from her.
They removed their gloves and cloaks and handed them to the waiting maid. Theodora’s heart was still beating too fast. She still felt the warmth of Alexander’s hand at her waist, the brush of his breath near her ear, and the way he had looked down at her as she spoke.
I am being entirely ridiculous.
“I am truly concerned for you, Theo.” Her mother’s voice reeled her back in.
Theodora swallowed. Her throat was suddenly dry and her heart beat considerably faster.
“You have no need to be concerned, Mother, I promise.” She lied.
Lady Dowell simply nodded and motioned for her to follow. Theo and her mother walked into the drawing room, where the fire had been kept burning in anticipation of their return. Her father was away on a business trip, or so he said, and Theodora was tempted to tell her mothereverything.
Lady Dowell sat gracefully on the sofa, smoothing her skirts. Theodora remained standing, unsure whether her lips would obey her and remain shut. Her mother watched her for a long moment. It was then that Theodora noticed how her eyes were sunken and she looked older than her age. Theodora felt the guilt eat away at her.
I surely cannot tell her my secrets while she is in this state.
“Mother, are you all right?” Theo asked her gently.
Lady Dowell smiled weakly before she spoke. “Yes, dear. I just—do you think your father is acting… funny?”
Theodora’s pulse quickened. “Funny?”
“Yes,” her mother said, frowning slightly. “He has been distracted. And forgetful. He left the house this morning without his ledgers. And he never forgets such important documents.”
Theodora opened her mouth; the confession was on the tip of her tongue.
Yes, something is wrong. He is hiding something from you. Or rather...someone.
“I think something is wrong. Father has been?—”
