Page 22 of A Beguiled Gentleman (The Bradley Brothers #1)

Chapter 22

Hannah’s gaze washed over herself in the looking glass, and she ran a trembling hand over the light beading on the bodice.

“Are you all right, Miss Gibbons?”

That had to be at least the third time Joyce had asked that question since she began helping Hannah get ready for the Chatham’s ball. And about the fiftieth time she had asked since Hannah came back from her evening with Noah at the bluffs. The evening where she made a fool of herself and ruined their friendship forever. And Hannah gave Joyce the same answer every time Joyce asked.

“Yes, I am fine.”

And same as the other times, it was a lie.

“Well, you don’t seem fine.” Joyce clasped an emerald and diamond necklace around Hannah’s neck. “But you look right pretty.”

Hannah smiled. “Thank you, Joyce. You are too kind.”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. It is a simple fact.”

After looking over her appearance one last time, she gave Joyce an approving nod, then left the room. Hannah’s feet were slow, heavy, and reluctant—walking the halls and stairs as if she were a man wrongly accused and heading to his sentence at the gallows. She held her head high, but inside, a war ensued. Noah would be in attendance, unless he found a clever way out of the evening. And Hannah would be expected to dance and socialize with men from all over the county, all at the benevolence of her hostess.

While Hannah had never entertained the idea until the other day, she was beginning to truly wonder if Lady Chatham was hosting this ball upon realizing Hannah’s feelings toward her son. Regardless of the reason, Hannah was going to do her best to appear charming and well-mannered. Mrs. Gibbons expected a marriage soon, so Hannah would do what she had to. It was either that, or her mother would march up to Lord Chatham and demand her cruel form of justice.

Perhaps Hannah’s impulsivity had gone too far this time. She formed a friendship with a man knowing his heart belonged to another, and then she developed feelings and went ahead and kissed him. She sounded a bit mad when she laid out all the facts in a line and followed them to their conclusion.

All too soon they arrived at Lord Chatham’s home, and Hannah found herself wishing for more time to prepare herself. She put a hand to her middle as their conveyance rolled to a stop, taking slow breaths as she tried not to tear up. Glowing lanterns lined the front of the estate and carriages speckled the drive, reminding Hannah of all the other guests and the men she would have to dance with tonight.

Mr. Gibbons exited the carriage, then helped Hannah and her mother down. The gravel crunched beneath her slipper as she set her feet on the ground. The walk to the door was entirely too short, and Hannah saw Noah as soon as they walked into the entry hall. He stood fourth in line after Lord and Lady Chatham and Donald, speaking with an older couple and greeting them with a smile. He looked dashing as ever in his evening attire, perfectly tailored to his frame.

“My, Miss Gibbons,” Lady Chatham said, drawing Hannah’s attention away from Noah. “You look positively stunning. I fear we will have to chase the men away with a stick.”

Hannah smiled, dipping her head. “Thank you, my lady.”

Donald greeted her with a slight dip of the head and a smile, and then Hannah wasn’t sure where to look. She wondered if she should scurry ahead and save herself the embarrassment, or be polite and do her best to pretend nothing had happened between them.

The decision was soon made for her.

“Good evening, Miss Gibbons.”

Hannah stopped, her eyes landing on Noah’s chest before she forced herself to meet his gaze. He wore a sad and weary smile, much like he had when Hannah had first made his acquaintance. And his eyes, the same brown eyes that often radiated the joy and love of a friend, looked at her as if his own heart ached.

“Good evening, Lord Noah,” she said.

“Would it be acceptable if I requested a dance this evening?” His eyes bore dark circles beneath them, and his focus seemed hazy at best.

Hannah swallowed, dipping her gaze. “I would not refuse if you asked.”

“But would you welcome it?”

Her gaze snapped back to his face. His smile was no more, and his mouth turned down at the edges. But she could not answer his question. Not now as guests came up behind her, waiting for their turn to greet the family. And not when her heart still roiled in tumult. Instead, she stepped forward, trailing after her parents toward the ballroom. Fresh tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them back, thankful for the dim glow of candlelight.

Hannah looked around the ballroom upon entering, and a sense of hopeless loneliness engulfed her. Noah would have been the one to stay by her side this evening, and now everything felt wrong. And so she followed her parents through the ballroom, her gaze floating about. Hannah could see the beauty and painstaking effort Lady Chatham had put into the evening, but she could not find any pleasure in it. This was now a task that needed to be completed. She would greet the men traipsed in front of her, allow herself to be shown off, accept dances and glasses of punch, and at the end of it all, tell her mother which man pleased her most.

“Hannah, Lady Chatham has outdone herself. You must have made a good impression upon her,” her mother said, her eyes meandering the room as she gave a nod of approval. “I am glad she realizes your worth, for then she will be very generous in her recommendation of you to the men in attendance.”

“Yes, Mother.” A dutiful answer from a dutiful daughter.

“Oh, dear, do you see that young man there?” Her mother took her father’s arm and used her eyes to point out a gentleman across the room.

The man was hardly what Hannah would consider young.

“Yes,” her father responded. “Who is he?”

“That is Mr. Abbins. He is a cousin to Lord Rathburn.”

Her father’s brow rose. “The baron?”

Mrs. Gibbons nodded. “Yes. And he has a sizable estate, if my memory serves me correctly.”

Their commentary would have bothered Hannah before, but she was too numb tonight to care.

“Surely Lady Chatham will bring him over for an introduction,” her mother continued.

Hannah tuned out their words as her eyes caught on Noah walking through the door. He looked nearly as lost as she did as his eyes frantically searched the room. Then his gaze landed on her, and she felt as she always did when with him. Appreciated. Seen. Cared for.

Noah lifted his hand and sent her a small wave, and Hannah deliberated whether she should return the gesture. But before her decision had been made, a young woman walked through the door and sidled up to Noah, taking his arm.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Her hand wrapping about the crook of Noah’s elbow, moving closer as she did so. Hannah’s gaze slid to the woman’s face, her blonde hair intricately styled, and her beautiful face and smile uncomfortably familiar. The young lady had to be none other than Miss Margaret Lewiston.

Hannah pulled her eyes from the couple as quickly as someone would remove their hand from a hot coal. Her breathing quickened, and she blinked fresh tears away as she turned her head to the side, hoping Noah would not be able to see. Margaret was back? Not only that, she was already reacquainted with Noah and secure enough to attach herself to him for the evening. Before Hannah had processed what she saw, Lady Chatham stood in front of her with Donald by her side.

“Miss Gibbons, I hope you are pleased with the evening thus far,” Lady Chatham said.

Hannah forced herself to smile but she could feel it wobbling at the edges. Luckily she had managed to control her tears before Lady Chatham appeared. “Yes, my lady. It is beyond comprehension. I fear I do not deserve such lavish kindness.”

“Nonsense.” She took Hannah’s hand and patted the back of it. “You deserve all of it.” Lady Chatham glanced over her shoulder to where Noah stood with Miss Lewiston before fixing her gaze on Donald. “Lord Bradley would be happy to escort you in the first dance of the evening to start things off.”

“Assuming you do not mind dancing with an old man such as myself,” Donald said, smiling down at her.

Hannah dipped her head. “Of course not. I would be honored. Thank you.” She took his hand as the music began and he led her down the promenade. Hannah tried to keep her eyes from Noah, but noticing him was soon inevitable as he and Miss Lewiston joined the line beside them.

Hannah’s eyes flicked to them before thinking better of it. Noah looked sullen, but Margaret smiled wide for all to see, parading herself around on Noah’s hand. Hannah had only glanced at them for a moment, but it had been enough. When she brought her gaze back to Donald, she immediately saw the pity in his eyes.

He knew.

“You look lovely this evening, Miss Gibbons,” he said. They began the first steps of the dance, and Hannah let her years of practice take over her footwork.

“Thank you, Lord Bradley.”

“And how is your family?”

Hannah was grateful for his conversation as it kept her attention fixed on him rather than the couple dancing beside them. Lord Bradley’s dancing was fluid and executed with precision, so she should be able to make it through the dance without needing to concentrate. “They are well. And yours?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Her gaze strayed to Noah again before she could stop herself, and immediately her vision blurred with tears.

“Miss Gibbons,” Lord Bradley said, and she returned her attention to him. “Have I ever told you about the time I ended up on the roof of Willowcrest?”

Hannah tilted her head. “I don’t believe you have.” To be honest, she wasn’t sure he had shared much of anything with her. When Hannah spent time at the Bradley home, it was most often with Noah.

“Well,” he continued. “I was attempting to impress a friend of mine and declared I could scale the west wall of Willowcrest, to which my friend laughed.” He smiled. “Of course, that only made my resolve stronger, and I had no choice but to follow through and prove my claim.”

“Of course,” Hannah said, her voice quiet.

“Have you ever fallen to the ground a story up in the air?”

Hannah looked up at him. “I thought this story was about you ending up on the roof?”

“It is.” He spun her in a gentle twirl. “But I didn’t claim to have accomplished it in one attempt.”

“I cannot say I have experienced it. I assume it was quite painful.”

His chest jerked with a laugh. “It was painful, but I was not to be deterred. I had to prove myself, especially after such a humiliating moment.”

“And how many attempts did it take?”

“Only two.”

Hannah watched his smile. She needed to focus. Lord Bradley was doing his best to keep her distracted, and she needed to put forth her best effort as well. “And was your friend impressed?”

He raised his shoulder in a shrug. “To be honest, I am unsure. After the fall, they tried to dissuade me from another attempt. But, being a reckless young lad, I preferred my physical being beaten and bruised rather than my pride. And then she proceeded to yell at me until I returned to the ground.” His smile widened.

“She?” The question slipped out of her.

“Ah—” Lord Bradley’s smile dimmed, and he looked at the floor. “Yes. A friend from a long time ago.” He turned Hannah in a gentle spin, then found her gaze. “My point is, you have your entire life ahead of you, Miss Gibbons. And one failure does not mean you shall never have success. Even with the same goal. You can always keep trying. I hope you understand that.”

Hannah tried to decipher his meaning. It could be he was truly only trying to distract her. But part of her got the innate sense that he was trying to buoy her spirits. And, perhaps, to convince her not to give up on Noah.

Throughout the rest of their dance, Lord Bradley continued to tell her tales of his friend, always leaving out her name and keeping her a mystery to the listener. But Hannah could see the way his eyes lit up whenever he thought of her, even after all these years. And while he was trying to distract Hannah, all she could wonder was if she would hold on to her love for Noah as Lord Bradley clearly had for this woman.

When the dance ended, a swarm of people surrounded her. Lady Chatham introduced her to men, and Hannah accepted dances and compliments without any true realization or memory of it all. She hoped the men would remember the dance they had, for she would never recall it. Finally, after the crowd about her thinned, Noah approached.

“Hannah,” Noah said on a breath. “Do you have a dance left? Or has my mother filled your evening entirely?” His gaze washed over her face, his brow puckered.

She stared into his brown eyes, then swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

His brow knitted further. “You . . . what do you mean you don’t know?”

She shook her head as her mind scrambled, and she tried to think. “I honestly do not know. I have been asked for many dances, and I haven’t kept track.”

He pursed his lips and looked to the floor. “If you do not wish to dance with me then you need not make up an excuse.”

Hannah’s mouth fell open, and her eyes widened. “My thoughts have been preoccupied, so I would appreciate if you could find some sympathy and compassion, Lord Noah. I have done nothing with malice or contempt, only a blurry mind.”

He swallowed and met her eyes. “I am sorry. Of course. But this does cause a bit of a problem, does it not? What if you have agreed to share the same dance with two different men?”

Hannah put her hands to her cheeks. “Do not make this worse than it already is. I realize it could become a problem, but what was I—” Her words cracked. “Please go. Please.” She swallowed. “I need a moment to myself.”

He reached forward as if to take her hand before jerking it back. “I need to speak with you, Hannah. There are things I wish to explain.”

“Not now.” She was surprised by her short, clipped tone. But if he did not leave her alone, she feared her facade would break.

His eyes searched hers, and the silent moment stretched on before he said, “Very well. Then when?”

“I do not know.”

Noah huffed a breath as he turned and strode off. A small voice inside of her whispered that she was being too curt—too hard on him, considering he did not ask for any of this either. But she wasn’t sure she could be rational right now, nor could her heart handle hearing him tell her that he had renewed his offer of marriage to Miss Lewiston. There were too many variables, too many what ifs to discuss such things here in a ballroom of people.

The next two hours of the evening passed in a haze of spins and gentlemen, of fans flicking in front of women’s faces, and—despite her best efforts—stolen glances at Noah, who was more often by Miss Lewiston than not. He danced with Sarah and one other young woman with whom Hannah was unfamiliar.

Hannah’s current dance partner, Mr. Swinton, led her away as their dance ended, but her attention was fixed on Noah to see where he would go. He walked Sarah to her parents, then remained with them in conversation.

In only moments, like a snake in the weeds, Miss Lewiston slithered through the crowd until she stood beside him once more, staking her claim.

Just as Hannah was about to look away, she stumbled, slamming her shoulder into Mr. Swinton’s side.

“Miss Gibbons,” he said, taking her arm and helping to put her on her feet. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Hannah’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “I apologize. I had not been watching my steps.”

“Do you feel more stable now?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I am fine.”

He smiled down at her. “Then perhaps you could release my arm?”

“Oh.” She pulled her hand back once she realized she was practically squeezing the life from the poor man’s limb. “I am sorry. Maybe I do not feel as well as I had thought.”

His brow pinched. “Do you need something? Some punch perhaps?”

Hannah shook her head. “No, I think I shall be all right. Dinner will be served soon. I may just need to eat something.”

“I could escort you to the refreshments. There is another dance before dinner, and I would hate for you to become faint.”

Hannah looked up to see if Noah was still conversing with Sarah and her parents, but he and Miss Lewiston were nowhere to be seen.

“Yes,” Hannah finally said. “That would be wonderful.”

Mr. Swinton led her out of the ballroom to a large alcove where refreshments were laid out on a crisp, white tablecloth. Blue and white vases were uniformly lined up the center, each with their own bouquet of fresh-cut flowers.

“Goodness.” Mr. Swinton took a small serving plate. “They did not spare any expense for this ball.”

The evening was nearly half over, yet the table was still brimming with all sorts of food. Fruits, breads, rolls, cold meats, and sweets. “No,” Hannah said, eyeing all the food. “They certainly did not.”

Hannah picked at her food, appreciating the relative quiet outside the ballroom until the faint hiss of whispers caught Hannah’s ears. She glanced up, only to find Miss Lewiston standing beside Noah as he filled a small plate of food for her. Hannah placed a hand to Mr. Swinton’s forearm, holding herself up.

“Miss Gibbons?” Mr. Swinton placed the plate down as he supported her.

Hannah snatched her hand back. “I am sorry. I fear I am a bit lightheaded.”

Mr. Swinton retook her plate and began filling it with a renewed vigor. “Here. Why don’t you eat a strawberry for now.”

Hannah slipped her glove off before taking the ripe red fruit. She no longer had the stomach to eat, but it was her only excuse for her behavior, and so she nibbled away at it.

A man cleared his throat, and Hannah knew without looking that it was Noah. “Miss Gibbons,” he said.

She took a moment to swallow her minuscule bite of fruit, licking her teeth to be sure nothing was stuck in their grooves. “Yes, Lord Noah?” She forced her gaze up, even though she was loath to do so.

Noah ran a finger under his collar and cleared his throat again. “This is Miss Lewiston.” He threw a hand in her general direction but wouldn’t lift his eyes from the plate he held. “Miss Lewiston, this is Miss Gibbons.” And then his eyes finally dragged up to hers. “Miss Lewiston begged for an introduction.”

Miss Lewiston laughed. “You make me sound desperate. I had only wanted to meet the newest resident of Warthford. I cannot handle not knowing everyone. And another young woman whom I can befriend?” She put a hand to her chest, her smile wide and brilliant . . . and most presumptive. “I simply had to have an introduction. It took Noah long enough to stop dragging his feet and do it. Had we not come across you here and now I fear he never would have.”

Hannah clenched her teeth over Miss Lewiston’s casual use of Noah’s name, especially in front of a crowd of people. “ Lord Noah has spoken of me?” It might have been petty, but Hannah was not in a particularly caring mood.

Noah looked at the floor and pursed his lips as if he was biting his tongue.

“Oh, yes,” Margaret continued, undeterred. “Every time I’ve seen him since my return, he’s had a story to tell of you. And I assure you, I have heard many.”

Mr. Swinton leaned toward Hannah. “You and Lord Noah are friends, I take it?” His heated tone as he spoke, while plopping more fruit onto Hannah’s plate, was unexpected.

Hannah looked at him with wide eyes. Was the man jealous? She hardly knew him!

“And I am so grateful you were able to keep him company in my absence,” Margaret said with a wide smile. “He mentioned you are much like a sister to him.”

Hannah felt like she was watching a squash match with the way her head was whipping back and forth—and whip her head did, first toward Miss Lewiston for her comment, then to Noah to see what he had to say for himself.

Noah’s eyes widened, and he turned his attention to Miss Lewiston. “I am quite certain I did not use those words.”

Margaret waved her hand, as if the exactness of his words were a superfluous detail. “No, not in those exact words. I made the conclusion based upon what you said.”

Hannah ground her teeth, taking calming breaths so she didn’t do something rash—something like removing her glove and slapping Margaret across her presumptuous, conceited lips. It really was too bad there was a table of food between them.

“I didn’t say you were like a sister.” Noah turned to Hannah with panic in his eyes. “I swear it.”

And then a pettiness welled up within Hannah. She stared pointedly at the plate Noah was preparing. “Miss Lewiston, do you not care for sweets?” Hannah knew for a fact she did not.

“I try to be wary of such delicacies. While fine in moderation, a lady must always watch her figure.”

Hannah batted her lashes, giving Miss Lewiston a sweet smile before turning to Mr. Swinton. “I would like three of the sweet rolls please.”

He gaped at her. “Thr—”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him. “Three.” Hannah glared over at Miss Lewiston.

The young woman raised her brow and gave her shoulders a quick shrug. “To each their own, I suppose.”

Noah stood with his hand to his head, rubbing his brow. Hannah couldn’t quite tell if he was fighting a smile or a headache. Perhaps it was both. He then took a small raisin tart and shoved the entirety of it into his mouth.

“Goodness, you must be hungry.” Miss Lewiston put a hand to Noah’s arm.

He gave the tart a few more chews before swallowing. “Yes.”

“Perhaps I shall break my rule for tonight, since it is so special. Would you get me a raisin tart as well? They do look delicious.”

Noah took a long breath, then reached for the sweet that Miss Lewiston was suddenly craving after declaring she ate no such thing. He moved to set the tart on Miss Lewiston’s plate, but paused when she closed her eyes, tilted her chin up, and opened her mouth.

Mr. Swinton’s mouth dropped open, Hannah’s eyes bulged, and Noah looked as if he hadn’t quite processed what was happening—his hand hovering in the air with the raisin tart as his gaze flicked from Miss Lewiston to her plate.

Before Hannah could stop and consider, she plucked a raisin from a tart on her plate and tossed it directly at Miss Lewiston’s open mouth.

Unfortunately, Miss Lewiston must have realized Noah was not about to entertain her ridiculous request, for she began to close her mouth—which meant Hannah’s raisin, though expertly aimed, bounced off Miss Lewiston’s lip and fell to the tablecloth.

She spun toward Hannah. “Excuse me.” Her eyes were fire, and she lifted her fan, pointing it at Hannah as if she were wielding a weapon. “Did you just throw that at me?”

“I’m sorry.” Hannah feigned innocence. “I had assumed that is what you wanted. The raisin tart, correct?” Hannah snatched the plate from Mr. Swinton’s hand and smacked it down onto the table before plucking up a strawberry. “Or would you prefer this instead?”

Miss Lewiston’s eyes widened. “The audacity—”

Noah put his hand to Miss Lewiston’s back and pushed her along the table. “Mr. Swinton, would you please escort Miss Lewiston for the dinner dance?”

Mr. Swinton mumbled some jumbled nonsense, but when he saw Hannah’s angered expression, he scurried to do as Noah asked.

Margaret ground her feet to a halt, and she and Noah had some quiet words before she eventually stomped off toward the open ballroom doors with a very confused Mr. Swinton trailing behind.

Noah watched until they had disappeared into the ballroom, then hooked a hand under Hannah’s elbow and steered her down the hall.

“Noah,” Hannah squeaked out. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” His eyes were wild as he glanced at her. “What were you thinking? You threw food at her, Hannah!”

Hannah raised her chin. “I’m sorry. She looked like a helpless baby bird, and with her not having much sugar, I just assumed she was too weak to feed herself.”

Noah made a sound that was very near a growl as they rounded the corner at the end of the hall. “I do not know what Margaret was thinking, but you cannot go around throwing food at people. What if your mother finds out?”

Hannah stopped, wrenching her elbow free of his hand. “Do not speak to me as if I am a child. Do you wish to make me angrier?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “What I wish is to speak with you. Which is what I’ve been trying to do all evening.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.”

“Would you please just go to the second door there,” he said, pointing down the hall, “and we can talk.”

Hannah stomped to where he pointed, throwing the door open so it swung back and hit the wall. Noah came in with a lantern he took from the hall and gently shut the door behind him. Hannah blinked back tears—she wasn’t sure if it was from sadness, hurt, or anger, but the hot tears burned the backs of her eyes regardless of knowing the reason.

“I am here,” she choked out as Noah hung the lantern on the wall. “What did you wish to speak about?”

He sighed, striding to the desk and sitting against the edge of it. “I wanted to discuss Margaret’s sudden appearance.”

Hannah walked over to a small shelf of books and pretended to study the words written along their spines. She forced a nod, though her chin quivered. “Is there an understanding between you?”

“No.”

She ran her fingers along the shelf, giving herself anything else to look at other than Noah. “Is there an expectation of one?” Hannah finally caved in and glanced over her shoulder at him.

Noah rubbed his face, then continued to shove his fingers into his hair, his head hanging forward. “Yes.”

She pursed her lips, nodding as she attempted to master her emotions. He pushed off the desk and the scuffle of his shoes sounded along the carpet as Noah’s shadow darkened her view.

“It isn’t what you think, Hannah.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. You loved her, and now she has returned and wishes to renew your relationship. What else is there to say on the matter?”

“Much, actually. There is much I wish to say.”

“As your friend, I am hap—” She swallowed. “Happy for you. I wish you every happiness.”

Noah’s hand gently landed on her shoulder, his thumb tracing the delicate skin of her arm, and she shuddered at the touch. “I haven’t known the meaning of that word since the night on the bluffs.”

She tentatively looked up at him. “I did not wish to cause you pain. I only had to tell you. To know your feelings once and for all. And now, I do. I can move on, and you have Margaret.”

His eyes snapped to her. “But what if that’s not what I want anymore?”

Hannah closed her eyes and took a long, cleansing breath. “And what do you want, Noah?”

“I—I don’t know. My family and the Lewistons are very close. My parents expect me to be civil to Margaret.”

She opened her eyes. “Well, I would say you are doing a splendid job of that.”

Noah gave his head a subtle jerk, as if clearing it. “You cannot know how confusing this all is for me. First, the other night—” He swallowed. “And then Margaret coming back and expecting—” He ran a finger under his collar. “I haven’t slept properly in a week. I can barely function at the moment, seeing as how my mind is such a mess.”

“I can relate to the feeling,” Hannah whispered.

His eyes held her captive, and she saw his anguish peering out at her. “I no longer love her, if that is what you are thinking.”

“I hardly know what to think.”

His brow shot up. “As if you haven’t made me wonder the same thing, what with you carrying on with that flirt, Mr. Swinton.” He shook his head, stepping back before he began to pace the rug.

Hannah’s jaw ticked to the side. He had no right to judge her actions, especially with the way Margaret clung to him the entire night. “This is a ball held in my honor by your own mother to find me a husband. And you haven’t exactly encouraged me to believe that you could possibly—”

“I haven’t even had time to think!” He stopped in the middle of his pacing, his chest heaving and his eyes wide. “My parents and the Lewistons expect me to be with Margaret, and she won’t leave my side. Yet, this whole evening, all I desired was to be with you. I wanted to dance with you, and I couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t even speak to me! It was the most acute torture watching men be flaunted in front of you—to watch their hungry glances trace your form, their minds filled with plans that I shudder to know. Their pocketbooks greedy for the funds you represent. It made me sick, and I could hardly stand it!”

Hannah’s eyes burned as she watched him sputter. “I appreciate your concern, Noah. But I have a duty to perform.”

Noah cocked his head to the side. “What has happened to you? This is not the Hannah I know. The Hannah I know would rather go kicking and screaming than to let a fight go unfought.”

Hannah softly scoffed, shaking her head. “I could accuse you of the same, letting Margaret attach herself to you like some barnacle.” She ran a hand up her arm. “But it is not the same for you and me. Do not let your parents dictate your every decision in life. You have the opportunity to be your own man. So do it! Do it because there are those of us that cannot, and you shouldn’t waste your chance.”

“You are one to talk, Miss I Am A Wealthy Heiress . You have many choices! Men are practically fawning over you to have the chance to win your hand.”

“Yes. It is my blessing and my curse. And that is why I will march back into that room and talk and smile and pick a man that is presented to me.”

Noah’s face fell, his eyes widening. “I was only trying to make you see reason. You cannot be serious.”

“I am, Noah. I am done entertaining fanciful things. I will do what my mother asks.”

“No.” He shook his head. “That is not fair.”

“To whom, Noah?”

He threw his hand out. “To you, obviously.”

“But I have agreed. So who are you really speaking of here?”

Noah stepped closer, his brown hair sweeping in waves over his forehead. Only, he did not look at her with tenderness in his gaze, as he usually did. Anger and hurt burned in his stare. “Then at least explain something to me.” He was so close that she could see the intricate lines marbling his deep brown eyes. “The other night . . . did you just plan to kiss me and then move on to another man? Because I do not understand what is happening here.”

“How could you say that?” she asked, her lips trembling once again. His words were like a slap to her cheek. “That was not my intention.”

“Yet that is what it appears to me.”

He didn’t understand, but she could not tell him the truth about why she was moving on so quickly. If he knew her mother thought he owed her marriage, he would propose. Hannah was sure of it. And to be married to him, knowing he only did so out of obligation . . . She swallowed, trying to calm herself. “It is not as simple as you think—”

Noah took a step back as he folded his arms across his chest. “And you stole my first kiss!”

Hannah scoffed, but at the incredulous look on Noah’s face, a telltale tickle built in her chest. Surely he was teasing her. But his expression was serious, which only made her want to laugh more. She pressed a hand to her mouth.

“Do not laugh at me,” he said, indignant. “I am in earnest.”

The laughter in her chest died as she truly considered all he was saying, her hand falling from her mouth. Noah had spoken of being jealous, angry, and hurt. Was it possible he did have feelings for her after all?

“I am sorry I stole something so special, Noah.” Her words were heartfelt and genuine, and her fire began to fade. What a mess she had made. But even as Hannah’s defenses softened, Noah’s only seemed to strengthen. He took a quick stride until he stood directly in front of her. Tonight he did not bear the bright and sunny disposition she was used to. His face was a dark storm, and she trembled before it. And then his hands lifted, cupping her chin and causing a small gasp to slip from her lips as his fingers splayed across her cheeks.

“You are fire, Hannah Gibbons. Promise me you won’t let anyone put out your light.” He whispered the words across her skin, almost as if he were in a trance. Then something shifted. A desperation entered his eyes, and he leaned forward, gently kissing an errant tear that streaked down her face.

“Noah?” Her voice shook.

His trance seemed to break, his hands dropping as he took a quick step back.

The air about her felt frigid in his absence, and one of Hannah’s hands fell to her side while the other grazed her cheek as it tingled with remembrance of his touch.

His mouth was agape, his cheeks flushed, and his hair disheveled.

Steps sounded in the hall. Her heart stopped, and she froze. She was specifically trying not to trap Noah into marriage, and yet the circumstance seemed to find her regardless.

“Where do I go?” She searched the room, but there was no good place to crouch or hide.

Finally, Noah took her by the shoulders, pushing her until her back was pressed against the wall by the door.

“Here?” she hissed.

He let go of her shoulders. “Just trust me,” he said, his eyes wide as he retreated to the center of the room—just in time for the door to swing open.

Now she understood why Noah put her here. The door opened in her direction. Unfortunately, however, not enough to cover her. But for now, all she needed was a barricade between her and the other visitor.

“Noah,” a male voice said. “Where have you been?”

Noah’s shoulders were rigid as he spoke to the newcomer. “I am sorry, Father. I was just a bit overwhelmed and needed a minute to myself.”

“Miss Lewiston has been searching for you. You had better head back to her.”

“Of course.” Noah forced a smile, but it was stretched unnaturally across his face. “I will go soon.”

“Or you could go now.”

The gentle reprimand gave Noah pause, his smile fading. “Of course.” He walked toward the door, and just before he passed behind it, he sent Hannah a look of regret, mouthing, I’m sorry , before he disappeared from view.

Hannah’s heart beat at a rapid pace, and she tried to calm herself. She needed to slip back into the ballroom as well, but she dared not leave so soon after Lord Chatham and Noah. If she was lucky, the dinner set would not have started, and her presence might have gone unnoticed. How long had she and Noah been talking?

She closed her eyes, putting a hand to her cheek where Noah had placed his soft kiss. How was she to navigate her life now? Just when she was prepared to forge ahead, Noah pulled the rug out from under her.