“Surely a wise habit in any setting,” James replied. His response was mundane enough, yet it held an undercurrent of meaning she couldn’t place. He stepped away in the movements of the dance, leaving her with the unsettling feeling that he had seen right through her.
When his gloved hand captured hers for the next measure, she noticed his wrists. His sleeve buttons, engraved with a prowling fox, caught the candlelight. A peculiar choice for a gentleman who had once expressed a distaste for hunting.
“What do your observations reveal about our present company, Lord Brenton?” she asked as they turned the corner of the figure. “Or do you find the room more fascinating than the guests?”
“I prefer to observe people. I can learn a great deal about someone’s character after a short time.”
That was not the glib answer she had expected. She wondered, not for the first time, what lay beneath James’s polished exterior. “And who are you studying tonight, my lord?” she asked as the dance brought them back together. “There is certainly no shortage of intriguing company in the room.”
They circled each other, hands brushing. His gaze held hers as he said, “Tonight, I am fixed on only one person.”
The words might have belonged to any charming bachelor, but the deliberate way he said them made her heart stumble. The dance ended before she could summon a reply, and the rest of the set did not allow for more conversation. She prided herself on keeping a wiser distance from James. If she kept her resolve, the rest of the evening ought to pass smoothly enough.
As the evening progressed, Kate found avoiding James was the least of her troubles. She had assumed since she was a stranger to most of the gentlemen in attendance, she would remain a wallflower by her mother’s side. To her astonishment and growing dismay, her expected betrothal to the popular LordBrenton made her an object of curiosity. Several gentlemen asked for an introduction, and soon she had promised nearly every set.
Now she was in the absurd position of wishing for James’s formidable presence to deter suitors. As she calculated the timing required for a late visit to the library, she was forced to invent a fictitious gentleman named “Mr. Thorne” for the set directly preceding the supper dance. It was a risky move, but it seemed the only way to ensure she was unattached when the clock struck midnight.
Her current partner, however, made her wish she had employed that trick more than once. Lord Alverton seemed all charm and ease, but there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that repelled her. He encroached upon her space at every opportunity and held her hand far too long as the dance began, a lingering pressure that made her skin crawl.
“Lady Katherine, have I told you yet how lovely you look this evening?” This was the third time the man had commented on her appearance.
She took a slow breath and reminded herself that proper ladies did not abandon their dance partners in the middle of the ballroom, no matter how uneasy his conversation made her feel. But if he continued to take liberties, she would consider doing exactly that.
“You are far too kind in your compliments, my lord,” she said through gritted teeth. He tightened his grip on her, and she was overcome with the urge to scrub her skin despite the layers of evening gloves separating them.
She spied James standing along the wall with other gentlemen, but he was not participating in their conversation. He was watching her with an intensity that made her face warm. But James would have to wait. Lord Alverton’s hands were the more immediate problem.
When her set with Lord Alverton mercifully ended, her next partner led her out onto the floor. Each time she stole a glance at James over the next two sets, he seemed already aware of her. She was torn between relief that he showed no interest in dancing with another woman and irritation at his vigilance. If only her stomach would stop tightening every time she caught him watching her.
The sharp notes of the orchestra tuning for the upcoming set pulled her out of her thoughts. Her reserved set with “Mr. Thorne” could not have come at a better time. Her feet ached from the constant dancing. As she scanned the wall to ensure James was no longer watching her, his usual spot was empty. He was gone. She had only thirty minutes to find the library and return for the supper dance before her partner was revealed to be nothing but a figment of her imagination. Now was the time to act.
She touched her mother’s arm, claiming her attention from the other matrons. “Mother, please excuse me. I need a moment in the retiring room. The heat is rather oppressive.”
Her mother patted her hand. “Of course, my dear. You do seem to be a little flushed and must be tired after all that dancing. I shall wait for you here.”
When her mother turned back to her friends, Kate headed toward the corridor. She wove in and out of the large shifting crowd that made it easy to go unnoticed. As she approached the doorway, she took one last glance around the room. While she was certainlynotlooking for James, she begrudgingly admitted he would be useful to have nearby if something untoward happened.
Once Kate assured herself no one was paying her any attention in the madness of the throng, she slipped out into the deserted corridor. She passed the door to the retiring roomand stopped. In all her planning, she had neglected one rather important detail: she had no idea where the library was.
Pockets of candlelight flickered along the narrow corridors that branched off in several directions, casting ominous shapes on the wall but giving her no clue which one she ought to take.
“May I assist you, my lady?” a voice asked politely.
Kate nearly shrieked. She was so lost in thought she had not heard the maid approach. A lady wandering alone required an explanation. Unfortunately, Kate had not prepared one.
“No, thank you,” she murmured. “I was merely . . . enjoying some fresh air.”
The maid blinked in surprise, likely because the balconies were located off the opposite side of the ballroom.
“Very good, my lady.” The maid dropped a curtsy and continued toward the ballroom.
Kate watched her go, wishing she could ask her for directions but knowing enough to keep the question to herself. Surveying her options, she chose the passageway leading away from the ballroom. She crept cautiously. Though her light dancing slippers made no noise on the carpeted flooring, she was sure someone would hear the sound of her heart thumping wildly in her chest. No one could know what she was about to do. Beyond the embarrassment and possible scandal of wandering unaccompanied through someone else’s house, she had no idea what—or whom—she would find in the library.
She tested the first door she came to. Locked. Perhaps Lord Wycliff’s personal study?
She advanced down the dim corridor, her reticule clutched close as she debated which door to attempt next. A sudden thud broke the stillness. She froze, breath caught in her throat. She strained her ears but, aside from her heartbeat, heard only the muffled sound of music and voices drifting from the ballroom.
Time stretched. One heartbeat. Two. Then another.
