The worst part about ballrooms, Samantha decided, was the heat. Even during winter, the number of people crowded inside made it near unbearable. Or maybe she was more prone to feeling overheated due to her current condition. She glanced toward the French doors. Despite the cold she knew she’d find on the terrace, it might be a welcome reprieve.
Later. After she’d parted ways with Lady Edwina.
She sent her companion a sidelong glance. “You weren’t in London last Season.”
“I’ve not been in London for any Season,” Lady Edwina replied. She caught Samantha’s gaze, revealing a touch of melancholy that hadn’t been there before. “My sister has been unwell for a number of years. The gradual weakening of her muscles makes it increasingly difficult for her to walk. Enjoying a debut when she was unable to have one felt wrong. I’d not have come this year either had she not insisted.”
“I’m sorry to hear of her illness. Is there nothing the doctors can do to help her?”
“It seems not.” A sad smile followed the statement. “My brother, Wrengate, that is, ensured she was given multiple opinions. Unfortunately, it appears to have been money wasted though he’ll argue that point. There’s nothing he would not do for either of us.”
Samantha said nothing to this. It was curious to learn that the man she loathed above all others might have a heart after all. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. The last thing she wanted, considering what he might have done, was to sympathize with him.
Something Lady Edwina had said, however, or rather the way in which she’d said it, stood out. Recalling what Lady Moorland had told her some months before with regard to Wrengate’s siblings, Samantha decided this was a good chance to probe a bit deeper. “It sounded as though you felt the need to clarify which of your brothers you were referencing just now. I gather you have more than one?”
“There’s also Lord Ryan. He’s two years younger than Wrengate and three years my senior. Unfortunately, we’ve not heard from him in a number of years. Not since our parents died.” Lady Edwina stepped slightly closer to Samantha’s side in order to better pass behind a group of young ladies who’d likely made their debuts the previous year. “What of your family, Mrs. Croft? Have you any brothers or sisters?”
Samantha gave her head a swift shake and told her new friend all she needed to know, about being raised in an orphanage, how the Harlowes had brought her and four other girls to their home. She repeated the tale about making a wish to attend a ball last year for her birthday and how this had led to her meeting Adrian.
“Your story is extraordinarily romantic,” Lady Edwina remarked when Samantha finished relaying a few vague details surrounding her marriage.
If only the lady knew of the ups and downs Samantha and Adrian had endured. How often their lives had been endangered since they’d first met. She’d gotten shot while he’d been stabbed. Disaster could easily have turned tragic when he’d been arrested, charged with murder, and sentenced to hang.
By some grace of God, they’d found their way through all of that. They’d persevered and would continue to do so. Together.
The thought allowed Samantha to smile in response to Lady Edwina’s comment before she delicately inquired, “Now that you’re here, I suppose you’ll be wanting to make your own match?”
The color that rose to Lady Edwina’s cheeks was enough of an answer, even though she said, “I worry about the impact of my potentially marrying.”
Samantha understood. “You fear it would take you away from your sister? Force you to abandon her in favor of living your own life?”
“The guilt would eat away at me.” The rawness in Lady Edwina’s voice made it clear she spoke in earnest.
They reached the end of the ballroom in silence and turned along the periphery. A footman appeared and Samantha eagerly snatched up a glass of chilled lemonade. If only she’d thought to bring a fan. She savored the drink’s cooling effect as she took several sips.
“We could step out into the hallway if you’d like to escape the heat for a bit,” Lady Edwina said.
Samantha nodded. “If you don’t mind, a reprieve would be lovely.”
They made their way toward the large double doors leading out of the ballroom. A maid had paused directly ahead. The cold look in her eyes as she looked past Samantha struck her as odd, but something broke the maid’s attention and sent her hurrying off. Samantha continued onward with Lady Edwina. She felt the drop in temperature as soon as they entered the foyer. It was so much more pleasant out here.
She turned to Lady Edwina, intent on continuing their conversation from earlier. “I realize you feel underserving of happiness when your sister has had to sacrifice hers, but is it not possible for you to find a balance? If it means so much to you, then make it a part of your marriage contract. Insist upon you and your husband having your sister live with you or speak with your brother and see if you might remain at his estate with your husband. At least for part of the year.”
Lady Edwina gave Samantha a dubious look. “No man would agree to live at another man’s estate. Least of all if he has his own.”
“Which is why I suggested it not be full-time.” Samantha drank some more lemonade while Lady Edwina took on a pensive look. “My point is there are options — solutions worth exploring so you can be happy.”
“Perhaps…” Lady Edwina said, her attention sliding toward the ballroom.
Samantha followed her gaze, until she spotted a group of young gentlemen. One of them tipped his head in their direction, prompting Samantha to say, “An acquaintance of yours?”
Lady Edwina’s flush from earlier returned in full force. She averted her gaze from the gentleman in question. “Mr. Keith Orwell. He and I danced the first reel of the evening together.”
“I gather it was a pleasant diversion?”
“Very much so,” Lady Edwina said in a rush. She bit her lip and appeared to struggle against Mr. Orwell’s pull from the other room. “Is he still looking this way?”
A quick glance provided the answer. “He is.”
