But only slightly.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with the viscountess.”
“Before this evening, I was not. I am attending as Mrs. Ollerton’s companion.” I studied his features, an unsettling feeling stirring through my stomach. Why did he look so unfamiliar? He stared down at me as if I were a stranger, or worse…
As if hewishedI were.
“I see.” Mr. Campbell’s brief reply was followed by a long stretch of silence.
I struggled to find my voice amid the constant prattle and music around us. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, as if he were experiencing the same struggle. Could one kiss truly cause such awkwardness between us?
And why did he look so different?
There was something decidedly unpleasant about his countenance, though I couldn’t decipher exactly what it was. Was he upset that I hadn’t agreed to meet him the afternoon before? I had been flustered by his invitation. And then he had kissed me, and Hannah had nearly seen us…it had all happened so quickly.
“Are you upset with me?” I asked in a quiet voice. Even I heard the waver of emotion beneath the question.
“No.” Mr. Campbell shook his head. He still looked stunned. “I may need to step outside for a moment.”
I scowled. Was he feeling ill? “Are you all right?”
“Yes, not to worry. The ballroom is hot, that is all.” He turned to leave, but I followed him.
“I didn’t know you were so sensitive to heat.” I barely managed to hide the vexation from my voice. “You bore the heat of the sun quite comfortably just the other day.” I was trying to catch him in his excuses to escape me. My emotions boiled over as I studied his brow. “You’re not even perspiring.”
He turned to face me. “I do not perspire.”
“That isn’t true.”
He glanced from left to right, releasing a tense breath before regarding me seriously. “I was much more comfortable in the sun with my lemonade than here with so many people and their pungent perfumes.”
I frowned. “You didn’t drink lemonade.”
He sighed, and I saw a flicker of frustration pass over his features. It stabbed at my heart. He seemed torn between fleeing from my presence and avoiding the scene I might cause if hedid so. I fully intended to follow him out of the ballroom, and he must have sensed it. Did he not even remember any of the details of that afternoon in his garden? I remembered all of it vividly. Our terrible paintings, our conversations, the moment I had accidentally splattered paint on his face…
A lump formed in my throat, and my voice was little more than a shaky whisper. “If you are trying to avoid me, please say so. I have no intention of holding you to any…obligation you might feel after what happened yesterday.”
His brow twitched with confusion before smoothing over. “To what happenstance are you referring?”
My heart crumbled slowly, and the pain spread to both sides of my chest. I glared up at him to hide the tears that burned the back of my eyes. “If you are resolved to forget it, then I will too. And you shall not see me again.” I would possibly regret speaking so freely, but my pride demanded it.
I thought Mr. Campbell would be rueful or apologetic, but a faint smile flickered over his lips. He dipped his head as if to hide it, and then it was gone.
I wanted to slap him.
Kate was right. The rumors were true.
He was toying with me.
He had been all along. How else could he be so amused by my pain? My face burned hot, a deep sense of betrayal spreading through my stomach. I thought I might become ill all over his boots. I hoped I would. They were always far too polished and perfect.
I stared up at his face—at the stranger who seemed to be staring back. Had I truly touched his face, run my fingers through his hair, and kissed those lips? My gaze moved frantically over his features. Alarms rang through the back of my mind, and then my eyes settled on his ear. I did remember every detail of that day in the garden, including the way the paintsplatters had trailed toward the large freckle on his right earlobe. The light in the ballroom was dim, but not dim enough to hide the fact that the freckle was gone.
My head spun with confusion.
“Forgive me.” Mr. Campbell’s face was stoic once again. “I have no wish to forget it, but I am not thinking clearly at the moment. It must be the heat of the room. Please excuse me.”
I watched him walk away, my vision blurring at the edges. I blinked hard, fighting the tears that threatened to escape. Kate had tried to warn me, but deep in my heart I had still believed that Mr. Campbell cared for me. Why had he seemed like an entirely different man just now? His eyes had not looked quite the same. His countenance was unfamiliar and cold. Even the freckle on his ear was gone.
