Page 9 of A Seaside Scandal (Change of Heart #2)

Chapter Six

JONATHAN

Iwas generally well-mannered when it came to maintaining direct eye contact during conversation, but my gaze had drifted away from Mr. Yeaton’s face at least five times in the past minute.

In my defense, he had been rambling about the status of his gambling debts…

and Miss Kellaway was no longer standing beside her mother.

She had vanished. I searched the faces on the outskirts of the room as the quadrille drew to a close.

The guests applauded, and I finally caught sight of Miss Kellaway’s face in the farthest corner of the room.

She wore a soft shade of yellow silk, the fabric shining under the candlelight.

Her hair was like polished copper. The joy that spilled from her features was rather contagious.

I recognized the man beside her as her brother, Mr. Edmund Kellaway, who had been at the souvenir shop.

At the moment, he seemed to be introducing her to a gentleman in a burgundy jacket.

He bowed, she curtsied. They spoke for a minute or two, and then the man led her to the line of dancers in the center of the room.

The musicians prepared for the next dance, and then another lively tune spilled through the air.

Miss Kellaway laughed at something her partner said as the steps of the dance led them together.

They joined hands, and she hopped in time with the music.

She was elegant and energetic at the same time, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

I smiled, a pang of jealousy striking my chest as I noticed the delight on her partner’s face.

I was not usually eager to dance at events like these, but dancing with Miss Kellaway I would do.

Gladly.

I took in a quick breath, realizing how empty I had left my lungs during my observation of her. Mr. Yeaton followed my gaze, and I realized that I had been caught. At least it was him and not my sisters.

His features lit up with a knowing smile. “Forgive me, sir. I am keeping you from your other pursuits.”

I shook my head fast, but he was already walking away.

At least he didn’t seem offended by my distraction.

I was the one who hardly knew what to think of it.

Because of Miss Kellaway, I had been working on a small scrapbook for my sister, Margaret.

I had been drawing small sketches of the views I saw, keeping an account of the things I heard, and even glueing shells, petals, and feathers to the pages.

I told myself that the book was the only reason Miss Kellaway had been on my mind at all over the past few days.

“Well? Are you going to ask her to dance?”

Blast it. Was I really so obvious?

Richard, Joanna’s husband, had crept up on me. His round spectacles were sliding down his nose, his dark eyes far too observant for my liking. His wife had taught him well in the art of meddling.

“Who?” The question fell naturally from my lips.

I didn’t know why I was so determined to appear disinterested in anyone, but it might have had something to do with the last time I had been open about my intentions toward a woman.

Keeping such matters a secret was far safer and avoiding them altogether was even better.

“The young lady in the yellow.”

I squinted at the dancers as if I had only just noticed her. “Ah. Miss Kellaway.”

“Yes, right.” Richard gave me nudge. “Well, will you ask her?”

I glanced at Miss Kellaway again as she carried out the final steps of the dance flawlessly. A smile pulled on my mouth. “Only because you insist.”

Richard chuckled as I followed Miss Kellaway with my gaze.

She returned to her brother’s side, breathless from the dance.

She put a hand to her curls, her gaze shifting in my direction.

It would be impolite not to acknowledge her, at least, and it would be safest to do so while my sisters’ attention was otherwise engaged.

Before I could lose my nerve, my legs carried me across the room.

I stopped two paces in front of Miss Kellaway and offered a bow.

Her blue eyes lifted to mine, a smile still frozen on her lips. “Mr. Croft. I confess I’m surprised that you chose to attend.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think me a recluse?”

“Your sisters have painted you as one.”

I laughed under my breath. “Of course they have. Speaking of painting…I have been documenting Brighton in the book you helped me choose for my sister.”

Miss Kellaway’s eyes lit up. She seemed determined to soften her smile but was failing at the endeavor. “I’m glad to hear it. Although I should like to see these paintings for myself.”

“To determine how hideous they are?”

She laughed. “I never used that term!”

“Forgive me.” I leaned forward. “Novice.”

She looked down, and for a moment she seemed a little shy. It was endearing. Her eyes lifted. “Well, you cannot prove your skill if you continue to hide your work from me.”

“I am not doing so intentionally. It may surprise you to learn that I don’t carry a piece of my work in my jacket when I attend the assembly.”

“And why not? You may use such a thing to your advantage in a ballroom.”

A laugh escaped me. “And how would I do that?”

She cast her gaze upward in thought. “You might impress women with your talent, and perhaps even convince them to dance with you.”

“Hmm.” I took a step forward. “Is that what you require of your dance partners? That they be skilled painters?”

Her lips pressed together, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I didn’t think to until this very moment, but perhaps I ought to begin requiring it.”

“Do you demand evidence of my skill, or will you take me at my word?” My heart thudded in my chest as I awaited her reply.

“I’ll accept your word.” Her gaze met mine. “Just this once.”

I smiled. I had never asked a lady to dance in such a peculiar way before, but the understanding between us was clear. Her next dance would be with me.

Before I could say another word, a breathless sigh came from my left, and then Miss Lyons was standing beside us.

She pressed a hand to her chest. “How exhilarating! That was nearly as enjoyable as a country dance in Hampshire.” She turned her smile toward me, and it softened into nothing more than a coy upturn of her lips.

Her large blue eyes were surrounded by dark, fluttering lashes. “Good evening, Mr. Croft.”

“Good evening, Miss Lyons.” My shoulders stiffened. I knew the look she was giving me. It was the look Miss Harriett Burke had worn during each of our interactions. I had fallen for it then, like a fool, but now I recognized it anywhere.

“Are you fond of country dances?” Miss Lyons asked, taking a step closer. “I find that everything is more enjoyable in the country than in Town, would you not agree?”

“I do agree.”

She twisted her head in thought. “Oh, how I miss my horse, Millie. For a strange reason, this dance reminded me of her. I can only hope she is being exercised as much as she would be if I were still at home riding her each morning.”

Miss Kellaway’s brow pinched as she observed the conversation.

Miss Lyons had stepped between us now. Every detail of the woman indicated that she did not actually feel at home in the countryside.

I couldn’t stretch my brain enough to imagine her taking a voluntary walk through the woods or beside the bank of a muddy stream.

She appeared to belong within the walls of a grand house, serving tea and gossiping with women like my sisters.

Perhaps that’s where she had heard about my love of the countryside and horses in the first place.

My skin prickled. What else had my sisters spoken about during tea?

I hardly knew how to respond to Miss Lyons and her unexpected declarations about her horse. “Millie is a charming name. What breed is she?”

Miss Lyons’s smile faltered slightly. Her eyes shifted to Miss Kellaway, who remained silent. “Oh.” Miss Lyons laughed. “I’m afraid I am not well-versed in such technical terms.”

“She’s a thoroughbred,” Miss Kellaway said in an abrupt voice. “Fifteen hands. And she’s actually my horse.”

I could only see the back of Miss Lyons’s head, but she seemed to be staring at Miss Kellaway for a long moment.

The centers of Miss Kellaway’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shadowed with irritation.

The expression surprised me, but as soon as Miss Lyons turned around, her crown of golden curls hid Miss Kellaway’s face from my view.

“Alice, my dear. There is no need to tell tales to Mr. Croft.” She released an airy laugh. “Millie is indeed my horse, though Alice does ride her on occasion.”

“That isn’t true.” Miss Kellaway’s brow was creased now, arms crossed. Her voice shook slightly. Her gaze lifted to my face briefly before she took Miss Lyons by the arm. “Please excuse us.” The hasty whisper was followed by a tug, and then she was dragging Miss Lyons away from my side.

I saw Miss Lyons jerk her arm away from Miss Kellaway’s grip as they reached the edge of the refreshment table. They were too distant for me to hear their conversation, but a sickening feeling had already begun spreading through my stomach.

Penelope. A surge of frustration pushed me forward until I found my sister standing in the crowd with Loftus.

Heavens, his cravat was billowy that evening.

It swallowed up his entire neck and most of his jaw.

When he saw my approach, he nudged Penelope.

She cast her innocent gaze on me. “Brother! Why have you not danced yet?”

“Why did you share the news of my inheritance with Miss Kellaway and Miss Lyons?”

She blinked twice. Her lips sputtered. “You didn’t say I couldn’t tell them specifically.”

I groaned. “I said you couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?” She scowled. “I was only trying to make you a little more desirable.”

My neck was hot. “Did you also tell them that I prefer the countryside? Or perhaps that I am impressed by a knowledge of horses?”

Her nose wrinkled with guilt, and she was silent for a long moment. “I assure you we didn’t speak of you the entire time. Please, do not flatter yourself.”

My gaze traveled back to the refreshment table, where Miss Kellaway and Miss Lyons still appeared to be bickering.

My heart sank at the sight of Miss Kellaway’s face, the smile erased from it.

It seemed I had been wrong about her. All young ladies were the same.

They sniffed out fortunes like hounds, setting their heart on a man for what he possessed and nothing more.

I doubted either of the two women actually liked horses, or riding, or the countryside.

They were willing to lie in order to elevate themselves and secure what they wanted.

A pinch of disappointment started in my chest, but I stamped it out.

I hardly knew Miss Kellaway, and therefore she could have no hold on my emotions.

It was better to uncover her true nature now than later, after she had fully stolen my heart.

I could already tell that she was capable of it, and that was a dangerous discovery.

Miss Lyons picked up a glass of punch. It hovered in the air between them, encased in her delicate fingers. I watched as Miss Kellaway grabbed the base of the glass. She tugged hard, pulling it from Miss Lyons’s grip.

And then she tipped the contents all over the front of her dress.