“That doesn’t sound too hard, Miss Thomas.”
“You think? I can’t walk the grounds and look at stars without needing to rescue a stranger. Short of a promise for adventure, a simple thank-you is sufficient.”
Intelligent with an easy wit. Maybe going inside this ball wouldn’t be so terrible. “Pretend, aye? Doesn’t seem too hard to feign becoming enamored of one of the prettiest women I’ve seen.”
Miss Cecilia touched his brow. “You’re fevered. That happens to newcomers sometimes.”
Taking her hand from his face, he put his lips to her palm, warm and smelling of honey. “Yes, very pretty.”
“Thank you, I just wanted you to say it again.”
He couldn’t help grinning at her. “Doesn’t a woman want the attention of a host of suitors? How else will she choose who to marry, unless marriage is not something you want? Sorry. I know it’s impertinent, these questions. We just met.”
She tugged at the formfitting skirt. “It’s an honest question. My older sister, she fell in love with her husband at first sight. I paint too much, so I think my eyes have dimmed. Hasn’t happened to me.”
“A good sense of humor is a wonderful thing to attract love. It seems only a matter of time—”
The woman stopped and put her hands to her hips. “Oh, I don’t want just any laughing fool. Nor do I wish my father to choose. He’ll pick someone to better his business. I’m not the sort wanting to be sold off because I have a dowry.”
Felton rubbed his hands together. “A man can use a dowry. You’ll have no problems being able to choose from a crowd of men.”
With a shake of her head, she started walking again.
He caught her hand. “Sorry, but I feel it’s true.”
“Who wants to marry because a man is broke?” She looked away like the answers to life were in the dusty road or in the halos of torchlight used to light the way. “What if they stop me from doing what I want? I have dreams too.”
“You seem young, Miss Cecilia. Are you sure you know what it is that will make you happy?”
She slowed and looked again to the sky. It was magnificent, a cloudless night with so many stars out, blinking and shining. “The constellations are so clear. I’ll have to remember and paint it—and you.”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw more soldiers surrounding the government building. His stomach clenched but he kept his face even. They needed to get inside the ball. And Johnson better stay hidden; he had a family that needed him to live.
Miss Cecilia didn’t seem to want to move. He needed to become more visible, more interesting than stars that wandered the skies and remained untouched.
“Dear lady,” he said. “The lack of access to funds or unwillingness to accept the terms of the money can lead to shallow pockets. I for one think a healthy dowry can speed things along, especially a courtship full of promise. I suspect you don’t like delays.”
As one hand clasped her arm, she rubbed her shiny smooth elbows—not a mark or scar marring the perfection. “Waiting can be a terrible thing.”
He tugged on the lapels of his dark jacket. “I’ll be honest. I could use a wealthy wife. Money does come in handy.”
She grinned. “You seem too honest for a man I found sneaking about.”
“If it led to meeting you, then aimless searching has benefits. And if I’d known I’d meet you, I would have found you a flower, some lover’s token for you to remember me by. Let us go to this ball and allow me to claim all your dances.” He lifted his arm to her, and she took it.
“It does seem a short shrift, sir . . .”
“Lord Gantry, David Felton Lance, but you can call me—”
“Felton? I like that one, it’s different.”
Suddenly, that one of his names became his favorite. “I like how it sounds on your tongue.”
Lacing his hands with hers, he lifted them close to his cheek and sniffed her palm again. His large nose was handy for something. “What is that honeyed smell?”
“Lilac. It’s how I wish jacarandas smelled. Jacaranda bloom is the perfect purple, vibrant and lively.”
As she pulled away, her gaze went up to the night sky. When she lowered her lashes, he wondered if she’d prayed or wished for something.
