His voice dropped and, as he spoke her name, his fingers caught hers. His touch was gentle, holding her hand in his, but without any strength in his grip, allowing her to pull awayshould she so desire. “You have spoken plainly. Now permit me to do the same.”
He paused, glancing away, and Nora felt her pulse quicken until it beat wildly all through her. She licked her lips, wanting to urge him on but holding her words back with an effort. Now was not the time for interruption, no matter how urgent her desire for him to speak.
“We have been acquainted for a month or so, have we not?”
She nodded, still silent, her heart thrumming like a bird fluttering its delicate wings, threatening to take flight at any moment.
“Perhaps you are already aware of this, but I shall speak it to you all the same.” His thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “Nora, I have been drawn to you from the very first moment of our meeting.” Again, his eyes lifted to hers, and Nora’s chest tightened with painful longing, desperate to hear more. “I find myself searching for you in a crowd, eager to find you so that we might dance or converse or even simply smile at one another from across the room. Mayhap such longings are somewhat foolish given the shortness of our acquaintance, but that is the truth of my heart at the present moment.” He leaned closer to her, his words a whisper. “It is bound up with affection for you.”
Affection.
The word circled through her mind. It was not the same strength of feeling that she already held within her own heart, but that was of little consequence, for surely affection could grow to something deeper.
“Your silence tugs at my fears,” Lord Hampshire said, threading his fingers through his hair, his smile somewhat strained. “I apologize if I spoke with too much boldness, if I have taken you by surprise. I can well understand that my affection might overwhelm you at the present moment but – ”
“Lord Hampshire, please, do not think that I am anything other than astonished – but astonished and happy with it.” Unwilling to let him think she was unmoved by his confession, Nora took a small step closer to him and, with fresh courage, lifted her hand to set it upon his shoulder, before running it lightly down to where his heart would be.
“In truth, you speak of all that I myself feel. Your words could have come from my own heart – and I say that with every word the truth.” She drew a breath, allowing the courage she felt to grow into determination – a determination to make all she could of this moment and speak of her heart. “Indeed, my feelings are, I think, a small measure greater than your own. I did not think I would be bold enough to speak of them, but because of your courage, I have found my own also.”
He blinked, the colour rising swiftly to his cheekbones. “Might I ask as to what you mean by such a thing?”
She nodded, unable to stop the trembling in her limbs. “I believe that I am in love with you, Lord Hampshire. I have never felt such feelings before, but I think that is what they must be.” Closing her eyes briefly, she heard his swift intake of breath and, opening her eyes, she was immediately caught by the fervency in his gaze. “I hope you will forgive my boldness,” she whispered, her lips quirking as his smile began to grow. “We have both apologized for such a thing already, I think, but you know that I can, on occasion, be a little too bold in my determinations.”
“No, Nora. I think it is a wonderful characteristic.” His grip tightened, his gaze steady. “Our acquaintance has changed me in ways I did not anticipate or expect. Your honesty humbles me for, when you spoke of love, my heart echoed your words in return.”
Her breath caught, joy welling in her so fiercely, she thought she might throw constraint to the wind and fling her arms abouthis neck. It was only his action of lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there that prevented her from doing so.
“I must speak to your father next, I think.”
Astonishment jolted through her, realizing what he meant. “You—you will?”
“Yes, of course. At once.” His eyes warmed, the press of his lips to her hand searing her skin. “Once he grants his blessing – and I pray that he will do so – I will return to you so we might discuss our future together.”
Our future together. Her cheeks flushed, her entire body warming as though lit from within. “You need have no doubts when it comes to my father, for I can assure you of his agreement.” One side of her mouth tipped up as she tilted her head. “I trust you already know what my answer will be?”
His smile told her he did.
For a few exquisite moments, they simply stood together, their hands still joined, and the ballroom noises faded from their hearing. Nora wanted to cling to him, sensing his need to step away as he sighed, giving her a small, wry smile.
“Despite my heart’s desire to remain with you, I must now take my leave.”
Nora’s sigh matched his own. “I will return to my mother, then. Though I should much prefer to remain here with you.”
With a smile of understanding, he released her hand, his gaze shifting over her shoulder. “Alas, I believe my uncle has spied me. No doubt he will wish to speak with me before I take my leave.” With a rueful smile, he turned, and she settled her hand on his arm. “Come. Let me return you to your mother, and then I shall bid you goodnight.”
“Would that it were already the morrow,” Nora murmured, as they stepped away from the shadows and back into the light of the ballroom. “For then I would not have to be parted from you for so many hours as now stretch before me.”
“Soon, we shall never be parted again,” he promised as Nora leaned into him as much as propriety allowed. “We must only endure a little longer.”
2
“What is it, Uncle?” David spread out both arms wide as he walked into his uncle’s drawing room. The hour was late, and given his present delight with all that had been exchanged between himself and Lady Nora, he wanted nothing more than to celebrate. He had not even known that Viscount Cheltenham was present at the very same ball as he, not until his uncle had caught his arm and told him, in no uncertain terms, that they had to speak that very evening. “What could possibly be of such importance that you pull me away from my bed?”
Lord Cheltenham grimaced, already seated by the hearth, which had a low fire burning in it, chasing away the chill from the early morning hours. It was a most extraordinary time to be meeting, but nonetheless, Lord Cheltenham had been most determined. “It is good to see you, nephew.”
The study was dim, all thick shadows and the amber glow of a single lamp set too far from where David stood. The curtains had been drawn against the evening, and the air was close, heavy with the smell of old leather and something sharper beneath it — medicine, perhaps, or the sour, vinegar-laced liniment thephysician insisted upon. Lord Cheltenham sat behind his desk like a man barricading himself against his own mortality, a decanter of brandy at his elbow, its stopper removed. The glass beside it was empty, the golden residue dried in a thin ring at the bottom. On the far wall, the portrait of Cheltenham’s late wife had been removed from its hook, leaving a pale rectangle on the wallpaper where the frame had hung for years. In its place, someone had set a small landscape — a view of the coast, impersonal and bland — that did not fit the space. David noticed it without understanding it, the way one notices a piece of furniture that has been moved in a familiar room.
David took a steadying breath and kept his position near the door, uncertain why he had been summoned at this late hour and with such urgency. His uncle’s hands, resting atop the desk’s leather surface, were not still. The fingers of the right hand twitched, tapping an erratic rhythm against a stack of papers. It was a tell David had never seen before — his uncle had always been a man of implacable composure — and it unsettled him more than the shadows, more than the illness etched into the deep lines of Cheltenham’s face.
