“I wish this dance could continue for the rest of the evening.” The whispered words melted into Christina’s heart, making her sigh with both contentment and regret as she stepped back, dropping into a curtsy as he bowed.
“As do I.” Her lips lifted as he offered his arm. “I have danced with many gentlemen this evening, but none was as wonderful as standing up with you.”
“No?” Lord Coventry’s lips quirked, a gleam in his eye that reminded her of the light-hearted, contented fellow she had once known. “And I thought Lord Pennington’s quadrille might have been far more superior than my own, for he was very enthusiastic indeed.”
Christina laughed and took his arm, her face flushed. Lord Pennington had been eager, in both his dance and his conversation; she could not deny that. “We are related, so I presume he was simply doing his best to be a charitable and considerate relative.”
“Lord Newfield’s country dance did not impress you?”
With a teasing roll of her eyes, Christina leaned into him as they walked together back towards her mother. “Are you going to list every gentleman I have danced with and ask me to compare them to you?” Her voice dropped low as they came close to the other guests. “I can assure you, no gentleman’s company compares to what I feel when I step into your arms, Coventry.”
Lord Coventry’s eyes were warm, a brief but genuine smile pulling at his lips. His gaze lingered on Christina as she took her hand from his arm and stood by her mother, thanking him for the dance with as much poise as she could.
The small, contented smile lingered as he bowed. “I should very much like to call upon you, Miss Oldham, if I might be permitted?”
“You would be most welcome, Lord Coventry.” Lady Bedford put a hand on Christina’s arm, her enthusiasm contained but still present in the thin edges of her voice. “Pray, do come to call on any day that pleases you.”
“Then tomorrow?”
Lady Bedford’s fingers tightened on Christina’s arm, making her wince although she quickly covered this with a smile.
“That would be delightful, would it not?” Lady Bedford looked to Christina, who nodded quickly, wishing that she could reach out and take Lord Coventry’s hand, as she had done so many times before.
“It would be indeed,” she agreed, as Lord Coventry’s eyes held fast to hers again. “I look forward to your visit, Lord Coventry.”
Earlier in the evening, before the dancing had begun, Christina had caught a glimpse of Lord Pennington at the edge of the room. With her mother’s warning still fresh, she had looked at him with new eyes and noticed, for the first time, the faintest wear at the cuffs of a coat that was otherwise immaculate — a detail so small that no one would mark it unless they were looking. Christina was looking.
The moment Lord Coventry stepped away, Christina’s mother rounded on her, speaking in low, excited tones.
“Oh, how wonderful!” she exclaimed, as Christina looked all about them, hoping that no other guests had overheard the conversation or her mother’s enthusiasm. “Lord Coventry would suit you very well, Christina – although that is not to say that Lord Newfield or Lord Pennington would not do either.”
Christina did not answer, her attention pulled away from all that her mother was saying by the presence of a figure at the side of the ballroom. It was a gentleman, she was sure of it, but he was hidden by the shadows of the room. What was unsettling, however, was the sensation that he was watching her closely.
Her stomach dipped, and fear put one cold hand on her shoulder. Who was it? She could not make out his features since he had not only ducked his head but had also lifted his shoulders. Light splayed across his back, but kept his face in shadow; all the same, Christina could sense his attentionfocused solely upon her. She shifted to her right, taking a step back from her mother, and watched, out of the corner of his eye, as the gentleman changed his stance also as if he could not even think to take his eyes from her for even a second. Swallowing thickly, Christina looked back at her mother.
“Might we go to fetch something to drink now that the dancing is at an end?” she asked, hoping that no whisper of concern echoed through her words. “It will soon be time for us to take our leave, but I confess I am quite parched.”
“But of course, my dear.” Lady Bedford, who clearly had not noticed that there was something amiss, turned to lead Christina through the crowd, and Christina, in turn, looked back to where the fellow had been standing.
There was no one there any longer.
Searching the shadows, Christina’s heart thundered wildly as she fought rising concern. Who was it that had been standing there watching her with such interest? And what was their purpose in seeking her out?
12
“Brother! What is this I hear about Miss Oldham?”
Isaac cleared his throat and lifted one eyebrow. “Emily, as you can see, I am about to take my leave. I am thrilled to know that your husband is willing to share my secrets with you without any concern whatsoever, but now is not the right time for such conversation.”
“He did not share it until I pressed him fervently, and that is only because I saw you dancing with her last evening and appeared to be quite taken with her.” Emily came closer to him, her hands on her hips. “You should have spoken with me about it all. This business with the notes and the worry of who else is involved… I do not know why you would not share it with me.” A flash of pain crossed her face, and Isaac hesitated, gentling his response.
“I have to be very careful indeed, Emily.” Isaac looked long at his sister as she assessed him with sharp eyes, apparently unwilling to accept his excuse as a good reason for his silence on the matter. “This must be done with every precaution. Believe me, I had every intention of speaking to you about it, but mymind has been so caught up with it all that I struggled to think of anything other than that.”
“But you spoke to Kinsley about it before you spoke to me.”
“That was not my intention. It happened unexpectedly, and then I did not have opportunity to stay away from that conversation.” Seeing the pain in the gentle glistening of her eyes, Isaac spread out his hands. “You are quite right, however. I should have spoken to you about it all. I should have told you about the notes and my realization that all was not as it had appeared. Forgive me.”
“Thank you for understanding.” The sound of frustration in Emily’s voice was slowly replaced with relief. “Then you are to court her, yes? If you know that neither of you sent those notes, then you can return to how you once were.”
