The room was warm and bright and full of people she knew, and the evening was going exactly as planned, and she stood by the window and thought that she had never felt less like celebrating anything in her life.
She saw Harper from across the room.
She had been aware of him since the moment she came downstairs, in the specific, inconvenient way she had been aware of him for months, the awareness that arrived before she decided to be aware of anything. He was standing near the far wall with Edmund, and he was dressed impeccably, as he always was.
Upon seeing her, he crossed the room towards her.
“Oh, god. He is coming,” she tried to hide behind Charity. “I don’t know what to say to him. I am not ready.”
“You’ll be fine,” Charity sounded amused now. “And you’re going to have to get used to it, you know. You cannot run from him forever.”
“Miss Hosmer,” he said, when he reached her.
“Your Grace,” she said.
“The ball is a success,” he said.
“It appears so,” she said.
A pause. He looked at the room, at the guests and the flowers and the candles, and then he looked back at her.
“The dress….” he sighed, as though it was taking him great pains to say the words, “It suits you.”
Suddenly, her throat felt impossibly dry. “You picked it out, so I suppose I should thank you, twice.”
He was quiet for a moment, and a strange expression came across his face. He looked upset, but then concealed it quickly.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You have gotten what you wanted.”
She was about to ask him what he meant, but he did not give her the chance to.
“Enjoy your evening,” he said.
She watched him turn and walk back across the room, standing by the window with her untouched glass, and then Elias appeared at her elbow.
“Miss Hosmer.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I am glad you came.”
“I would not have missed it,” he said. “Would you do me the honor of the next dance?”
He was a good dancer. She had known this. He was steady and reliable, and he led well.
“You have done a wonderful job with this evening,” he said, as they moved through the first figure. “The flowers especially. My sister would approve.”
“How is she?” Temperance asked.
“Opinionated as ever,” he said. “She told me last week that I needed a haircut. I told her I had just had one. She said it was insufficient and we are at an impasse.”
“I think I would like her,” Temperance smiled back.
“She would like you too as she appreciates people who say what they mean.” He turned her through the next figure. “Are you enjoying your own ball?”
“I am,” she said, lying.
“You don’t look entirely like someone who is enjoying themselves,” he said, pleasantly.
“Well, I suppose,” she looked at him. “I am a little tired.”
