But she ran blindly on, through the ballroom, past the staring eyes and grinning mouths, not caring where she was going, as long as it was away from here.
Because that young lady she’d once been, with eyes full of hope, no longer existed. Because she could never be that young lady again. She couldn’t go back in time, no matter how much she might wish she could. Because the reflection she’d seen in the looking glass tonight was a lie.
And because she was a coward. Deep down, she’d always been a coward.
“What the devil just happened?”James glanced from his aunt to his sister, then back toward the streak of blue silk that was Miss Templeton, tearing across the ballroom like a runaway horse.
“They’re laughing at her,” Harriett hissed, her face white with rage.
“Who?” Who was laughing, and at whom? None of this made any sense.
“Thetonis laughing at Euphemia,” his aunt said. “The worst of them, at any rate. Those who aren’t laughing at her are whispering and staring.”
“Butwhy?” What was there to laugh at? She was utter perfection in her blue gown, so lovely his breath had actually caught when he’d glimpsed her across the ballroom. “She looks beautiful this evening.”
His aunt let out a sigh. “That’s precisely why, James.”
“London is overflowing with jealous old harridans who despise the Templetons.” Harriett’s hands were clenched into fists. “Phee’s sisters each stole an eligible earl out from under theton’s noses, and they’re determined to keep Phee in her place before she does the same.”
That was… God above, it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He’d never had much patience for theton— they were idle at best, and at worst, vindictive and spiteful —but this was beyond anything. For the first time, he began to understand what it was costing Miss Templeton to remain in London.
He turned to his aunt. “Is it really as bad as that?”
“I’m afraid so, James.” His aunt shook her head. “I should have known this would happen when I saw her in that gown.Perhaps we were wrong, Harriett, in encouraging her to wear it?”
“What? For God’s sake, no!” His voice was louder than he’d intended, and several people turned to stare at them, but damn it, this was the first time he’d ever seen Euphemia Templeton in a gown that did her justice. “It’s absurd, that such a lovely young lady should be dressed as if she’s in her dotage.”
Harriett raised an eyebrow. “Do you think her lovely, James?”
“She… I….” Did he think her lovely? He hadn’t used to think so— he hadn’tusedto think of her at all— but that was before he’d truly looked at her, before he’d seen underneath the disguises she wore.
The plain gray gowns, the retiring air, the downcast eyes.
That was before he’d seenher.
Now… well, he was far from indifferent to her, and what was even more absurd was that it was all because of that blistering scold she’d given him at bowls the other day.
It was pathetic, really.
But he wasn’t going to explain it to Harriett, so he said only, “She’s well enough. But why did she run away? I meant to pay her a compliment, not insult her.”
Although it hadn’t been much of a compliment, had it? A gentleman who truly wished to express his admiration to a lady generally kept away from phrases like “aging spinster.”
Damn it. He’d made a mess of it. He’d hurt her feelings?—
“You don’t understand her dread of being ridiculed, James,” his aunt said. “Euphemia has her reasons, I assure you, but it’s too complicated a story to delve into now. Would you go and find her, Harriett? She needn’t return to the ballroom if she doesn’t wish to, but I don’t like her being off alone right now.”
“I’ll go.”
“You?” His aunt repeated, astonished. Both she and Harriett were gaping at him like a pair of fish with hooks in their mouths, but he didn’t pause to explain himself or entertain any objections.
He turned on his heel and strode off in the direction Miss Templeton had gone, and his expression must have been fierce, indeed, because no one attempted to stop him. They all scurried out of his way like a pack of mindless sheep as he stormed through.
It took a devil of a time to find her. He waited outside the ladies’ retiring room for ages until he finally asked one of the footmen if he’d seen a lady in a blue gown, and the man directed him to a small courtyard down at the end of an adjacent hallway, off the music room.
She was there, perched on the edge of a stone fountain. She didn’t look up when he approached, and he didn’t speak, either, but sat down beside her, waiting.
She’d been dangling her fingers in the basin of the fountain, and watching the water drops fall from her fingertips, but now she shook them off and turned to face him, and her eyes were so dark with shadows, they looked like bruises in her pale face. “That was silly of me, fleeing the ballroom like a frightened mouse, wasn’t it?”
