But had I ever listened to her anyway?
Recently, I had been somewhat untamed—especially when it came to Mr. Colin Campbell.
I shunned that detestable man from my mind as Aunt Julia and I made the short walk to the assembly rooms. The streets were lined with people on their way to the same gathering, a parade of elegant dresses and shiny boots. Hundreds of candles from the assembly rooms illuminated the windows and lit our path as we approached the front doors.
A ball was held every Thursday in the upper rooms between Bennett and Alfred Streets, and I had managed to attend every week during my visit to Bath thus far. I had danced many sets, but never with a gentleman with the sort of money or status I was seeking. Unfortunately, I tended to attract the sort of gentleman who rented sets of rooms on Milsom Street and had secret gambling debts. Kate was the only connection that made me worth noticing, but tonight she wasn’t here.
I surveyed the crowd of elegant people beneath the white pillars and shining chandeliers in the ballroom. A large circle cotillion was underway in the middle of the floor, the lively music drifting through the air. I began my search for Sir William, scanning the dancers first, and then the balcony overlooking the floor below.
“Shall we climb to a better vantage point?” I asked Aunt Julia. “I do enjoy watching this dance.” The quick sweep of my gaze had confirmed that Sir William was not on the dance floor, which meant, if he was in attendance, he was most likely watching from above.
Aunt Julia’s brow twitched with dismay as she eyed the height of the balcony. She was not fond of climbing stairs unless it was highly necessary. “I shall watch you from here.”
I hesitated. Would Sir William frown upon me if I was seen so distant from my chaperone?
“Are the mineral waters not granting you fortitude?” I asked. Aunt Julia had been drinking the waters, as was her sole purpose in coming to Bath, in the hopes of gaining new strength, which she thought might magically overcome her. I had always assumed such strength could only be obtained through regular exercise—such as taking the stairs when the occasion arose—but she obviously disagreed.
“Not yet, my dear.” Aunt Julia sighed at the inconvenience. “I suppose I shall have to drink more.”
I gave a slow nod before turning toward the balcony once again. Before I could lose my nerve, I marched forward. I ascended the stairs quickly, emerging at the top with the other guests. It was hotter up there. With a quick glance in every direction, I caught sight of Sir William. He stood with a champagne flute in hand. He was dressed in an elegant jacket, his dark blond hair falling messily over his forehead. He conversed with another gentleman, but as I walked farther into the space, his gaze caught on me.
Perfect.
My approach had been too bold with Mr. Campbell, so I would have to change my strategy. Kate had told me that men did not like being chased. They enjoyed doing the chasing. I found it peculiar, but I followed her advice by turning in the opposite direction from Sir William, leaving him with a coy smile.
Would that be enough to entice him?
I walked casually toward the railing overlooking the ballroom. The cotillion unfolded below like the petals of a roseblooming, then closing again, the dancers stepping inward, then outward in the circle. I saw Aunt Julia in a shadowy corner, her eyes locked on me from below.
I tried to appear calm and approachable as I watched the dance, assuming an elegant posture. I breathed deeply and slowly, keeping my expression pleasant. I pretended to thoroughly enjoy watching the dancers, but in reality, I would have much preferred to be at home in Dorset curled up in an armchair with a book, without my tight slippers, and most certainly without my stays. They cut into my ribs. Aunt Julia had laced them tight in order to fit me into my gown that evening.
Distracted as I was, I didn’t notice Sir William’s approach until he was right beside me.
I saw his hands first, resting on the railing beside mine.
They were very fine hands—strong looking—with neatly trimmed nails and raised veins. I had never given a great deal of thought to veins, but I liked these ones. My heart pounded as I slowly lifted my gaze to his face.
I jumped. It was not Sir William.
“Good evening, Miss Sharp.” The voice—and the face—belonged to Mr. Campbell. My heart leaped in my chest, an instant sense of distaste climbing my throat. He stood tall, taller than Sir William. His dark hair was combed away from his face as usual. My gaze traveled down his stern brows, blue eyes, softly smirking lips, and freshly shaved jaw. He wore a stiff white cravat and black jacket, but I stopped there. I didn’t even want to think about looking at his waistcoat. The buttons were sure to be ridiculous in expenseandquantity.
“Good evening, Mr. Campbell.” My voice was quick as I turned my attention back to the dancers. Why on earth had he approached meagain? I dared to look over my shoulder to see if Sir William was still looking in my direction, but Mr. Campbellmoved slightly, blocking my view. A surge of vexation rose in my chest.
“Why are you not dancing?” Mr. Campbell asked with a nod toward the floor.
“I have only just arrived.” My voice was curt. Surely he was playing some sort of game with me—hoping to entertain himself or his pride by baiting me to pursue him again. But I would do no such thing. I still faced the dancers below, but Mr. Campbell faced me, leaning his weight on one hip as he studied my profile.
“Where is your chaperone?”
The question grated on my skin. Of course he would immediately assume something improper of me. Thankfully I had nothing to prove to him. I glanced lazily at his face. “I’m not certain. Hopefully she’s around here somewhere.” I snapped my lips closed and continued with my observations of the room below, hoping he would leave my side and make room for Sir William. Surely he wouldn’t want to associate with a young lady who had misplaced her chaperone.
I counted to ten in my mind, but Mr. Campbell didn’t move a muscle. I felt his gaze on the side of my face, and then a light chuckle escaped him. “I should hope so.”
Had I just made him laugh? That hadn’t been my intention at all. I stole a quick glance at his face. He was smiling slightly, and the sight caught me entirely by surprise. He must have noticed my shock, because his expression smoothed over again.
“You ought not to be speaking with me,” I said.
“Why not?”
