Within minutes, Watford was being gently nudged in Lady Honoria's direction with a few well-placed comments about her admiration for order.Miss Moreland took the flank and James handled the front.Esme, posted innocently by a column, did an admirable impression of a lady who had nothing whatsoever to do with any of it.
James didn't stay close enough to hear every word, but he saw enough.Watford bowed.Lady Honoria's eyes glittered, her fan snapped open.
A few minutes later, Watford retreated looking thoughtful.Lady Honoria, on the other hand, appeared invigorated, already whispering to her companions with relish.
Watching, Esme paused her fan as Miss Moreland caught her eye and nodded.Esme's lips curved, not into a society smile, but something smaller.
She shifted, as if to join her friend, then stilled when she noticed James observing her.Across the room, their gazes met.
Acknowledgment.Gratitude.Complicity.
James's chest went warm.
He ought to have left.The ballroom pulsed with heat, noise, and expectation.He had fulfilled his obligations, founded a society, and meddled in one evening.Any sensible man would retreat.
Instead, he walked toward the terrace doors.
The night air was cooler, scented with jasmine and London smoke.Lanterns hung along the stone balustrade, casting light over the garden.In the distance, a couple of dowagers discussed rheumatism.
Esme stood alone at the far end, gazing out over the clipped hedges.
"If you are plotting escape," James said quietly, "I should hate to miss the opportunity."
She glanced back, lantern-light catching her cheek.
"I am merely taking advantage of no one noticing I am gone.I would thank you not to ruin it."
"I excel at concealing inconvenient truths," he said, resting his forearms lightly on the stone ledge beside her."Ask anyone."
She studied him for a moment.
"You founded a society in my name, rearranged the course of my evening, and perhaps ruined Lord Watford's hopes, all before midnight.I have seen your skill first hand.”
"Do not forget rescuing you from ink," he said."History should be accurate."
Her lips twitched."I am not entirely ungrateful, you know."
"Dangerously close to praise.Your brother will be appalled."
Her expression cooled a little."My brother has had a word with you, I suppose."
"A very measured one," he said."You will be relieved to hear that your welfare has been thoroughly itemized.You are to be handled like an expensive vase."
"I would make a terrible vase," she said."I would develop opinions about the flowers and be hurled into the street."
"I cannot imagine anyone casting you out," he said before he could stop his protective impulse.
Odd that.
She blinked, the sharpness in her eyes thinning.
"You might be surprised," she said softly.
Silence stretched between them, filled with distant music and the murmur of voices.
"At any rate," she said briskly, "I am perfectly capable of distinguishing between assistance and interference."
"And which have I offered tonight?"he asked."Assistance, interference, or something more alarming?"
