“Can you believe,” Alex continued, “that at one point my maid tried to tell me to cheer up? She thought I was sad because Lord Branford hadn’t offered for me because you were so much more popular than I.”
Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. “Truly?”
“Yes. Of course, she didn’t realize I was already madly in love with Owen or she wouldn’t have said such a nonsensical thing.” Alex patted her coiffure and lifted her champagne glass in silent salute. “At any rate, it’s all worked out the way it was meant to, hasn’t it? I’m happily engaged to Owen and you’re happily engaged to Lord Branford.” She beamed.
Meg pressed her lips together and gave Sarah a don’t-say-a-word look.
Sarah couldn’t return Alex’s smile. “I assume your parents decided that Lavinia didn’t have to marry first?”
Alex’s smile turned conspiratorial. “The truth is, they didn’t have much of a choice because it was so obvious that Owen and Lavinia would never suit. She did some awful things that I won’t bore you with. Just think… someone’s parents trying to force him into a match that would make him so obviously unhappy? I cannot imagine what Owen’s parents were thinking.”
“I hear that happens quite a lot.” Tears stung the backs of Sarah’s eyes. She clapped her hand over her mouth, suddenly certain she was going to cast up her accounts. She turned on her heel and fled out the nearby patio doors.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Christian saw Sarah run outside. Without a second thought, he ended his dance with Lady Claire, deposited her next to her mother on the sidelines, and hurriedly made his way toward Alex.
“I’m not certain what happened,” Alex said, staring after the space Sarah had just occupied. “One moment we were happily chatting and the next—”
“I’ll go see to her,” Meg offered, turning toward the doors and lifting her skirts.
“No. I will.” Christian didn’t wait for agreement. He took long strides toward the patio doors before Alex or Meg had a chance to say another word.
When he got outside, he scanned the area. Sarah was standing near the far end of the empty veranda, her hands braced against the stone balustrade, her head leaned over the edge, breathing heavily. He made his way quickly but carefully over to her.
“Sarah, are you all right?”
At the sound of his voice, she turned and dropped her arms to her sides, her back against the balustrade. She had a wild look in her eyes and she was sucking in great gulps of air, her shoulders quaking.
“Sarah, tell me, are you all right?” Christian asked, moving even closer.
They were alone on the veranda for the moment, but he didn’t dare touch her in case someone else came out.
Sarah placed a hand on her heaving chest. “I… I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there.”
Now that she was talking, Christian relaxed a bit. “I understand.”
“It was the strangest feeling. As if the ballroom weren’t big enough for me.”
“The same thing has happened to me before, on more than one occasion.”
She was calming down, her breathing becoming more shallow, her eyes returning to normal. “It has?” she asked, an incredulous note in her voice.
“Yes. Try breathing through your nose. Bend over as far as possible. You want your head near your knees if you can.”
With her stays firmly in place, Sarah wasn’t able to bend over that far, but breathing through her nose seemed to work and she was able to brace her hands on her knees. Moments later, her breathing was completely back to normal.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I feel much better now, and quite silly.”
“You’re not silly at all,” he replied.
She placed a hand back on the balustrade. “I’m sorry to have caused such a fuss. I’m perfectly fine now.”
He offered his arm. “Would you like me to escort you back inside? To your mother, perhaps?”
“No!”
He arched a brow.
