Why am I here? I’ll stay for the next dance. Just to make sure she gets another partner. Just to see if she smiles again.
After the dance was over and Phineas had taken Helen back to her chaperone, Jack had a better view. Helen was close to where the musicians sat, and he could see her expression. She was under some strain, he could tell. It must be difficult for her to be here, to nod pleasantly and not to scowl. To hide herself and who she was.
And then her back straightened and her face reddened.
Jack followed her gaze to see what had caused the change in her. She was staring at the group of men Phineas had engaged in conversation.
She must know he’s finding partners for her and she’s embarrassed. He looked at the men. He knew a few casually and did not think much of them, including the blond Duke of Thornwick. But Jack had told Phineas to stay away from their mutual friends, hadn’t he? So no one would happen to mention Jack Pike to Helen and let it slip he was the Duke of Dunmore. But surely there were better candidates than those fellows?
The men were looking at Helen and shaking their heads at Phineas.
She’s a countess in her own goddamn right, you bleeding arseholes.
He looked back at Helen. Her face was carved from Aberdeen granite.
I did this. I made her do this. She didn’t want this. I exposed her to these idiots who are making her feel badly about herself. Why am I here? You’re the arsehole, Jack Pike.
He almost got up and left, not caring if someone saw him. But as he went to rise, his view of Helen was blocked by a man. A familiar man. Lord Feces. Jack kept his seat, his body tense.
Helen and Reeves spoke for perhaps half a minute, and he saw Helen take Reeves’ arm and move to the center of the ballroom.
No.
If he had driven her to Reeves by writing that letter and by having her come to this ball, he would never forgive himself. He watched them dance. He was glad to see Helen’s face continued to be stony. Then her mouth moved and she was finally speaking to Reeves.I hope she’s cutting him apart. Lopping off his head with a verbal claymore.
The dance was over. Applause. The dancers began to mill about, chatting, laughing, returning to the periphery of the room, going for their glasses of lemonade or ratafia or stronger stuff.
He couldn’t see Helen. He couldn’t see Reeves. He stood up and searched the crowd. No flash of blue, that very particular blue he had made her wear.
Why am I here? I’m here to protect Helen.
He made his way to the front of the raised platform for the musicians. He didn’t care who saw him. He needed to comb this ballroom until he found her and then he needed to get her out of here, away from these people, and then . . . he didn’t know what then.
He jumped down from the platform to the ballroom floor just as he had jumped off his ship to save the ship cat from drowning.
A jar. A much bigger jar than he had expected. Platform higher than he thought. Floor harder than water.
He took a step forward and immediately fell down, crashing into the couple who had been closest to the musicians when the dance ended.
“Pardon me, pardon me.” He tried to get up and was surprised to find he could not support himself on his leg and he was on the floor again.
And then the pain. The unbelievably agonizing pain in his right ankle as he tried to stand. He crumpled to the floor again.
“Pardon me,” he managed to get out again to the man he had tumbled down who was now up and helping his partner off the floor. Jack went to rise once more and again he could not. And the pain was worse.
“Helen!” he shouted. “Helen!”
He heardDunmoreandHis Grace. He was recognized. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had to find his countess. He started crawling, dragging the excruciating ankle over the parquet floor. “Helen!”
Phineas was there, kneeling down, blocking his way. “Jack.”
“Phin. You have to find Helen. Bring Helen here to me. She was with Lord Reeves. Go get her. Find her.”
“Yes, Jack.” Phineas disappeared.
Oh, my God. The pain.
He gave up crawling and collapsed flat to the floor. A phalanx of footmen surrounded him and stooped as if preparing to lift him.
