“I like her even more now.” Mrs. Mountjoy smiled as he held the door open into an anteroom at the rear of the ballroom. “I hope she leads you a merry dance.”
Barely repressing his indignation, Julian smiled as he saw the Cartwrights were already in the room. Mr. Cartwright looked his usual calm self, but Miss Cartwright was frowning, her hands knotted together on her lap. She wore a plain brown dress that Julian assumed was her Sunday best.
“Good evening, Miss Cartwright,” Julian greeted her. “Are you looking forward to the ball?”
She looked up at him. “I can’t say that I am, sir. I never liked dancing or crowded spaces. I’m only here because my brother insisted upon it. He said that if all these people are willing to support our cause, the least I could do was show my face.”
“I tend to agree with your brother,” Julian said. “You are the best advocate for your cause, Miss Cartwright. Your integrity and serenity shine through. After hearing you speak, no one could believe that either you or Mr. Cartwright have anything but the best intentions toward children.”
“Thank you for saying that.” She hesitated. “I have often misjudged your seriousness about our cause, but organizing this ball for our benefit shows that you are indeed sincere.”
“That’s very good of you, but I wasn’t instrumental in arranging the ball. Although, I am fully supportive of the committee’s efforts.”
Miss Cartwright cleared her throat. “Is your brother attending?”
“I believe so.”
“Oh.”
“Did you particularly wish to speak to him? I can ask him to seek you out.”
“No! Thank you.” She shrank back in her seat. “Please don’t draw unnecessary attention upon me.”
“My brother is the best of men. I sometimes wish I had hisjoie de vivre.” Miss Cartwright didn’t reply, and Julian was at somewhat of a loss about how to proceed. “Do you wish me to ask him to leave you alone?”
“I don’t know what I want,” she blurted out.
“Then perhaps you should simply go with your instincts?” Julian suggested. “If he seeks you out, he won’t force his company on you if it isn’t wanted.”
“Miss Cartwright, if I might offer you some advice?” Mrs. Mountjoy said. “Aragon Laurent is a true gentleman. If you ask him to stop bothering you, he will.” She glanced at Julian. “And if he doesn’t, then I’m sure Mr. Laurent will set him straight.”
“Absolutely.” Julian nodded.
Miss Cartwright still looked worried, but Julian put it down to her anxiety about the upcoming event. “I have no intention of marrying.” Miss Cartwright raised her chin. “I am devoted to my work.”
Mrs. Mountjoy patted her hand. “Then that’s all you need to say to any man who wishes to have a relationship with you. Most of them will take the hint, and, if they don’t, Mr. Laurent and I will make sure they never bother you again.”
The door opened, and the duchess, dressed in silver and white to match the glitter of her diamonds, strode into the room along with several members of the committee, including Mrs. Sheraton. She beamed at the Cartwrights and came across to take Mrs. Mountjoy’s hand.
“Anna, how lovely to see you again. Miss Cartwright, Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Laurent, how good of you all to come.”
Julian excused himself soon after her greetings and went to check on the state of the ballroom. The duchess had excelled in the preparations. Perfume from the large flower arrangement drifted across the room along with smoke from a hundred lit candles in the massive chandeliers that hung from the center of the painted ceiling. Fires had been lit in the stone fireplaces on the end walls. When the guests arrived, it would become unbearably hot and crowded—the smell of bodies overriding the sweeter scents of the flowers.
He heard a familiar voice at the top of the stairs leading up to the ballroom and watched as Allegra, who appeared to be urging her sister to hurry up, went past the doors and into the antechamber beyond. He had to admit to a certain trepidation in meeting Carenza—something he wasn’t used to. But her immediate rejection of his proposal had hurt. In fairness, he’d been almost as shocked as she had when the words popped out of his mouth, but he knew they were from his heart and that he meant them. Carenza obviously didn’t agree.
The duchess and her entourage came to the ballroom doors, chattering like a flock of starlings. As the clock struck the hour, voices echoed up from the entrance hall below, and Julian quietly took his place at the end of the receiving line, ready to welcome the incoming guests. He glanced along the line but caught only a glimpse of Carenza, who was behind Mr. Cartwright.
He had little time to think after that, as a stream of guests came up the stairs like a wave of breeding salmon and worked their way along the line and then into the ballroom where the string quartet played quietly on the balcony. When the bulk of the guests had passed by, the duchess decreed they should all join her in the ballroom for the speeches.
Julian waited until Carenza approached. He cupped her elbow and said, “Good evening.”
“Julian.” She looked her usual calm, lovely self. “How nice to see you.”
“I’m hoping you have a space on your dance card for me—preferably the supper dance?”
“Of course.” She smiled at him. “That would be delightful.”
He let her go on ahead of him, his gaze thoughtful. If she imagined he was going to apologize for proposing to her she was quite wrong. In his heart, he knew his impulsive offer was the truest thing he’d ever said in his life, and he was determined to ensure that Carenza realized it, too.
