Page 12 of A Meddlesome Match (The Vaughns #3)

Anticipation ought to be a joyous thing, but too often, it became a torment. The days leading up to a ball were spent in a restless haze of excitement and dread, each passing hour bringing both eager impatience and gnawing unease. How cruel it was that something so eagerly awaited could be tainted by such relentless worry. The very event that was so longed for—the music, the laughter, the promise of lighthearted conversation—soon felt like an ordeal to endure rather than an evening to be relished.

As Sadie stood at the edge of the ballroom, caught between hope and hesitation, the contradiction stung all the more. To be filled with the longing to partake in all the pleasures of the evening, yet trapped in those ridiculous fears that defied reason and refused to be dismissed. Pure torture.

If she joined one of the many conversations surrounding her, would Sadie be welcomed? Plenty valued her talents and company, but others scoffed at her weak attempts to curry conversation. Even if the former outnumbered the latter, the thought of others tolerating her presence was enough to keep Sadie firmly trapped in place.

They would approach if they wished to speak with me, wouldn’t they?

The room shimmered with movement and merriment, voices rising and falling in waves, yet that invisible wall held firm, keeping joy just out of reach. It was maddening.

Praying as though her very life depended on it (her social life, at the very least), she hoped Joanna would attend. Having seen her sister-in-law just a few hours ago, Sadie knew it was unlikely, but Joanna had refused to say definitively either way, and Sadie’s heart refused to quiet the torrent of supplications it sent out in the ether.

Joanna’s talent for socializing may not be vastly superior, which meant theirs was a case of the blind leading the blind, but at least Sadie wouldn’t be stumbling in the dark alone.

The Overtons’ gallery stretched the length of the building, providing a gaping cavern in which the elite of Danthorpe and Thornsby gathered. The musicians sat at the far end of the room, with great swaths of drapery hanging from the wall to frame their seating area, and ladies and gentlemen gathered along the edges of the dance floor. And as her attention drifted over them, Sadie realized her eyes were searching for a specific set of features—that furrowed brow that too often looked stern and unyielding but softened when he smiled.

Was she truly wishing to see Mr. Reed? The thought felt ludicrous, yet she couldn’t deny that she was, in fact, hoping he would make good on his promise to attend.

More than a few times over the past sennight, their journey from Danthorpe to Thornsby had returned to her thoughts, making her smile even now. For all that the gentleman was quite capable of making any conversation awkward with his piercing dark eyes and hard brow, once he relaxed into it, Mr. Reed became someone altogether new. And altogether interesting.

Though few in number, the words he shared were thoughtful and compelling. His opinions and insights were intriguing and spoke highly of his character, displaying a surprising propensity for optimism and sentimentality. Sadie didn’t have the fortitude to admit it, but she had spent their time apart hunting the novels he’d suggested and devouring as many as she could secure. Just as she could never reveal how often the rich timbre of his voice entered her thoughts.

“Miss Vaughn!”

called someone from the crowd, and a fluttering fan caught Sadie’s attention. Mrs. Franklin raised it like a flag, waving it about as she called, “My dear!”

Despite her previous hopes of a companion, Sadie had the strongest urge to pretend she hadn’t heard. Mrs. Franklin was one of those well-meaning busybodies who did more to embarrass the objects of their attention than assist. However unknowingly.

But Sadie had no desire to bruise her feelings, and when she arrived at the older lady’s side, she was greeted with a buss.

“Where are your parents?”

asked the lady, snapping open her fan to unleash a gale across her face. “I thought they meant to attend.”

Sadie nodded. “Yes, but business has kept them in London.”

“Oh, dear,”

said Mrs. Franklin with a sharp shake of her head. “That is unfortunate, but then, such is to be expected. When family requires assistance, it is only right to answer the call, though I do hope it is all resolved quickly.”

“One way or another, it will be,”

replied Sadie, though her insides twisted. Not for the pretense. That bothered her not one whit. If London proved to be their salvation, then Papa would be healed, and there would be no need for anyone to know his troubles.

And if not…

Those three little words plagued the Vaughns, accompanying each failed attempt to salvage his sight with grand plans for further treatment. But with every effort, the possibilities grew fewer. Her parents’ return had been delayed once again, a clear sign they were nearing the moment when only one remained.

And if not, the village would learn the truth—but only when Papa chose to share his troubles. Sadie wouldn’t be the one to do it. And certainly not for the sake of ballroom gossip.

“I do hope they will return soon. I miss afternoon tea with your mother,”

said Mrs. Franklin. “She has such a biting wit—”

“Do forgive me for interrupting,”

said Mrs. Sylvia Queensbury as she swept in and embraced Sadie. “But I just have to say you look wonderful. That color suits you beautifully.”

Brushing the pale green skirts, Sadie fought back a blush. “You are too kind.”

“No, I am not,”

she said, turning to Mrs. Franklin. “Am I?”

“Definitely not,”

said the other. “You look radiant.”

Now that was being far too generous, though Sadie wasn’t going to argue with the pair.

Sylvia cast a glance behind her before turning back. “I’m afraid I cannot stay long, but I wanted to ask if you know whether Joanna is going to attend tonight.”

“When I spoke to her this afternoon, she refused to accept defeat,”

said Sadie. “However, she was quite ill, and I doubt she will make an appearance.”

Mrs. Franklin’s brows rose at that. “I do hope it is nothing serious.”

“Nothing that won’t clear up in a few months,”

said Sadie with a significant tone, and when the lady didn’t catch the meaning, she added, “Joanna is expecting, and if her experience with Caroline is any indication, she is going to be homebound often until the ordeal.”

Sylvia groaned in sympathy. “The poor dear. I remember visiting her after Caroline, and she is one of the only mothers I have ever met who is more lively after the birth and views the pains as a minor inconvenience. Though it is little wonder with how much she suffers in the months leading up to it.”

“I will tell her you are looking for her if she arrives,”

said Sadie.

“Please do,”

she said, turning to leave—but she paused and turned back with a knowing glint in her eye. “And I do believe my brother and the rest of my family will arrive before long.”

Sadie stiffened, both from the insinuation in the lady’s tone and the surprise at the news. “I hadn’t expected your brother to make a public appearance so soon.”

“Mother thinks it will be good for him, and I agree.”

Sylvia’s brows pulled into a scowl, and she added, “I never liked that Miss Murray, and the sooner he ventures into society, the sooner he can find someone better suited for him.”

Mrs. Franklin glanced between the two, and Sadie ignored it. No doubt, the lady had been availed of the goings-on concerning Howard Gibson’s wedding, and Sadie did not wish to discuss it again. Not with her. She’d had enough of well-meaning busybodies, thank you very much.

“It is good to see you, but I must speak to Mrs. Ivy before the next dance begins,”

said Sylvia, turning away. Sadie waved the lady off, and before she knew what was what, Mrs. Franklin turned a bright smile on her companion.

“As your mother isn’t here to play chaperone, I believe I ought to stand in her stead tonight.”

Glancing about for potential victims, Mrs. Franklin jabbed her fan toward a gentleman. “There is Mr. Hutton. I’m certain he would enjoy dancing with you.”

Hooking Sadie by the arm, Mrs. Franklin moved with far more strength than a lady of her years ought to possess, driving the younger one along.

“That is kind of you,”

said Sadie, “but as I am nearly thirty, I can be left to my own devices. A chaperone is entirely unnecessary.”

“Nonsense,”

said Mrs. Franklin. “You speak as though you are ancient, but there is still time for you, my girl. I didn’t marry until I was your age, so do not give up hope—”

“My mother gave me permission to attend with my brother,”

Sadie hurried to add. Better to nip that subject in the bud before it became a lecture. “She wrote specifically to encourage me to go, even though she isn’t here.”

Mrs. Franklin’s brow furrowed. “I suppose that is well and good if she approves. Though a brother isn’t any sort of decent chaperone, and I would be quite happy to snare you a few partners and guide you about.”

The lady batted her fan and sent Sadie a coy smile before nodding at a pack of gentlemen gathered not far from them. Merciful heavens. A companion to help ease her way through society was one thing, but Mrs. Franklin was a press-gang, forcing any unlucky soul who crossed her path into paying Sadie attention.

“That is very kind of you, but I had planned on spending the evening with my friends.”

“Yes, of course,”

said Mrs. Franklin with a vigorous nod. “As you should, my dear girl. Go, enjoy yourself, and I will nudge a few gentlemen in your direction.”

Sadie bit back a groan and chose, instead, to feign an interest in another corner of the room. “Please, excuse me, Mrs. Franklin.”

The lady shooed her away. “Off with you, then.”

Turning her attention to the far side of the room, Sadie wove through the crowds, searching for a friendly berth in which to moor. Her gaze fell upon the Norman sisters, standing with a few other ladies who looked equally dissatisfied with everything and everyone (except themselves, of course). The new Mrs. Davidson caught Sadie’s eye, her nose wrinkling in a faint sneer before she leaned toward her sister and whispered something.

And together, the ladies turned away from their former friend. Thank the heavens.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and the Norman sisters proved such wrath wasn’t reserved for former sweethearts. Though two years had passed since Sadie cut ties, those ladies clung to the slight, determined to nurse it to their graves whilst ignoring that whatever bond they once shared had been selfish, shallow, and entirely dependent on Sadie’s submission in every regard.

Ignoring the pair, she deposited herself in the far corner of the room and waited. Best decide tonight’s victim now, rather than putting it off. The longer she delayed, the more difficult it would be.

Sadie’s gaze swept over the gathering and its animated conversations. Acquaintances caught her eye first, and while using one of them wasn’t exactly cheating, she preferred an unknown. Besides, most of the familiar faces weren’t ones she wished to approach.

Examining the strangers in the company, Sadie’s gaze fell on a lady standing alone, her eyes turned outward as though content to watch the others—yet Sadie sensed a desire for something more. She couldn’t put a finger on what it was, but the instincts that had trapped her in solitary corners for so much of her life recognized a kindred spirit.

Here was a prime possibility.

But before Sadie acted on it, movement at the door drew her attention, and her eyes landed on Mr. Reed. And a smile formed on her lips.