Page 42 of A Seaside Scandal (Change of Heart #2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

JONATHAN

Alice had insisted on keeping most of the details of Margaret’s ball a surprise, and now I understood why.

I couldn’t help but smile as I walked into the parlor-turned- ballroom, with its seashell decorations, candles, and the table filled with jams and breads.

Some of Margaret’s paintings and drawings had even been moved from the south wing to be displayed on the parlor walls.

My sister clung to my arm, dressed in a red ballgown.

It was far more detailed than any of her other dresses, but she didn’t seem to mind the extra embroidery and lace.

I had worried she would be uncomfortable, but since the moment I had led her out of the south wing, she had been staring down at the red silk fabric—watching it move with each of her steps.

Her hair hung loose around her shoulders the way she preferred it, but it had been brushed smooth, shining like honey in the candlelight.

Her eyes darted around the room—first at the shells, then at the table filled with bread and jam.

I sensed her excitement, but also her nerves.

The small handful of guests, as well as the musicians, were already gathered in the parlor awaiting Margaret’s entrance.

Penelope and Joanna had made the journey from Brighton with their husbands, adding to the numbers in the party.

“This is all for you.” I craned my neck to catch a better look at Margaret’s expression. Her lips pressed together. She clung tighter to my arm, a wrinkle of confusion in her brow. I waited with her near the doorway, watching the signs of unrest within her. I had no wish to overwhelm her.

“Margaret?” Her voice was low and strained.

I nodded. “There will be music and dancing, just for you, Margaret.”

The tension between her brows slackened. Her wide eyes darted to the guests, then back to the floor. Dancing in the south wing with Alice and me had been her only practice. I had been worried that she wouldn’t dance as freely as she liked with so many strangers in attendance.

I caught sight of Alice standing beside her mother.

My breath caught halfway up my throat as I took her in—her dark green gown draped over her curves, her auburn curls reflecting the firelight.

She looked beautiful. I could only imagine how much she resented me now, and I couldn’t blame her.

Once again, regret spiraled through my heart.

She seemed to notice Margaret’s hesitation and walked promptly toward us. She avoided looking in my direction as she approached Margaret. We still hadn’t spoken since the night before. After her family arrived, I hadn’t been able to catch her alone.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” she asked.

Margaret’s eyes darted around the room at all the guests.

Alice seemed to understand her concerns as easily as I did. She bent close with a soft smile. “They are friends. They are here to see you happy at your first ball.”

Margaret shook her head, avoiding Alice’s gaze. “They look.”

“Then look at me,” Alice said firmly. She squeezed her hand. “Only at me.”

The first notes of a country reel sounded.

Margaret’s neck straightened, and she turned in the direction of the musicians.

Her lips parted in surprise, eyes blinking fast. Alice led her carefully by the hand until they reached the center of the room.

And then she began to step, just as they had practiced in the quiet mornings in the south wing. “One…two…three.”

Margaret’s features flickered with uncertainty, but she stared at Alice’s feet as she mimicked the steps.

Her lips moved soundlessly as she concentrated, and then a smile spread across her face.

The guests watched for a moment before joining the dance.

Edmund and Charlotte stepped forward as partners, Owen and Annette, and then Alice’s parents.

Alice remained by Margaret’s side, demonstrating the steps until Margaret’s confidence grew.

I strode forward, catching Alice’s gaze. She stumbled, tightening her jaw as she regained her footing. The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable or ruin this ball that she had worked so tirelessly to plan.

I extended my hand to Margaret with a smile.

She took it, hopping in circle as I guided her around the room.

She reached for Alice as we passed, who took her other hand.

Alice shot a quick glance in my direction before we joined hands to complete the circle.

Being so near to her without being able to apologize and tell her how I felt was torturous.

Did she even realize that she had the power to break my heart?

That was why I had been so afraid to love her as she deserved—to trust her as I ought.

It wasn’t her fault for being so easy to love.

It was my fault for making love so difficult.

Margaret’s laughter echoed through the room, but then she abruptly released our hands in the middle of the song, wandering toward the refreshment table.

I wanted to laugh, but her abrupt departure had left Alice’s hand in mine.

I looked down, shifting her fingers in mine. Was this my best moment to apologize? We were still in public, so it wasn’t ideal. But I had to say something.

Before I could, she slipped her fingers away.

I saw the lingering hurt in her expression, but she hurried away from my side too quickly for me to address it.

I took a deep breath, turning toward the wall.

My skin was hot. I raked a hand over my hair in frustration.

I had never been so impatient in my entire life.

There was much I needed to say to Alice—more than what could be said in a passing conversation.

When the song ended, all the guests applauded.

Margaret froze, startled, from her place at the refreshment table.

She watched Alice as she demonstrated a proper curtsy, but then reached for a slice of bread instead.

I watched in admiration as Alice joined her at the table, pointing at each of the various desserts that had also been prepared for her.

She spread a slice of bread with strawberry jam and handed it to Margaret with a smile.

I would have been content simply watching in solitude, but a demure voice from my left sent a prickle of distaste over my skin. “There is nothing wrong with yearning for your wife, Mr. Croft, but I would strongly suggest you do something about it.”

I cast a sideways glance at Miss Lyons. How the devil had she snuck up on me?

She turned her thoughtful gaze toward Alice. “Your wife is very dear to me.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Is she dear to you?”

The bluntness of her words was surprising. In the past, she had only ever attempted to flirt. My gaze settled on Alice again. “Yes,” I said. “She is very dear to me.”

“Then I’m afraid I must encourage you against wasting another moment without telling her so. She has been sulking, and I should like to put a stop to it so she can enjoy the rest of the ball.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. “I have been eager to speak with her, but I haven’t had the opportunity.” Alice laughed at something her brother said, her entire face lighting up.

“Then we must make one.” Miss Lyons’s voice recalled my attention. “Are you listening?”

I raised my eyebrows but nodded.

Her stern gaze was inarguable. “Good. Here is what you are going to do.”

ALICE

Charlotte had been watching me very closely for the past several minutes. “You look quite ill. Are you in need of fresh air?” she asked.

I had taken a moment to rest for one song, watching as Owen spun his wife in a pirouette.

He gazed down at her with such raw adoration that I felt a pang of jealousy.

I wanted my husband to dance with me and look at me in such a way.

It was sickening, really, to see Owen so in love.

He was the most unserious person I knew, and yet he had managed the task.

Jonathan, being so stern and emotional, should have had the capacity for falling in love.

Perhaps he simply wasn’t meant to love me specifically. My heart ached.

“Did you hear me?” Charlotte’s voice came again near my right ear.

“Sorry.” I shook my head fast. Perhaps I was feeling a little lightheaded. “I am not ill. And I must stay here with Margaret. It’s her special night.”

Charlotte stepped in front of me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I will keep a careful eye on Margaret. Look at her. She is quite content dancing alone for a moment.”

There was a glint in Charlotte’s eye that I had seen many times before. She was scheming something. I just knew it.

“Why are you so eager to remove me from the parlor?” I cast her a knowing look. I couldn’t have her thinking that I was oblivious to her mischief.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “You mustn’t question me. I promise you will not regret it.”

My heart pounded fast at the sneaky smile on her lips.

“Charlotte—”

“Do not ask questions.” She took me by the shoulders and turned me toward the door. “I would suggest taking your air outside where it’s the most invigorating.”

My head spun, but I allowed her to push me a few paces forward. I would have resisted, but I had seen her speaking with Jonathan a few minutes before.

My legs were suddenly frozen.

I felt Charlotte’s hands leave my shoulders, but I forced myself to follow her instructions.

My pulse raced in my ears as I made my way through the corridor.

Doubt crept into the corners of my mind.

What was awaiting me outside? An ambush?

Charlotte was unpredictable, so I couldn’t rule anything out.

I walked down the front steps of the house and down to the gravel of the long, winding drive.

Stars dotted the dark sky, a crescent moon suspended among them.

The windows of Southcliff Manor glowed with candlelight, and I could still hear the faint notes of the instruments coming from inside the parlor.