Page 14 of Pursued Beyond Treachery (Harrowed Hearts #2)
M r. Wallace was an excellent dancer and Susannah hoped he would not notice her deficiencies.
One of only six couples in the middle of the room, they danced the minuet to the music of an orchestra, the likes of which Susannah had never heard before.
Princess Mary led out the dancers at the head, leaving all others to follow suit.
If Mr. Wallace had any complaints about Susannah’s dancing he hid it well, for his attention hardly ever strayed from her. In truth, his attentions were so bold it left her in little doubt of his interest. Never before had any man appeared so awestruck in her presence.
Heat crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. If only John would look at her with such admiration. It had taken the notice of a prince to even get him to ask her for a dance.
The thought was lowering. Was he the sort of man who only saw value in a woman if she attracted attention from his peers? She’d never seen him as the competitive sort. Then again, he did fence regularly. Perhaps it was a side of him he kept hidden behind the doors of sporting clubs.
Her gaze crept along the edges of the crowd until she found John deep in conversation with Mr. Kendall, Mr. Roberts, and Sir Nathaniel. He did not even look her way.
Fine. Then she would not search him out either. She needed to focus on the moment before her, anyway. But her disobedient mind replayed John’s look of shock when he’d first seen her. He had not appeared pleased or angry, but hurt. Could he have been disappointed in her acceptance of Mr. Wallace?
She glanced at her dance partner and he flashed her a brilliant smile. Her chest expanded. It was nice to be appreciated.
The dance brought them together. “You look contemplative. Might I be so bold as to ask what is on your mind?” he asked.
What to say? She could not tell him she had been thinking of another man. That would be rude. “I was admiring your dancing, sir. Not many have such grace and self-possession.”
“And I might say the same of you, Miss Wayland. You bestow a great honor on the whole room with your beautiful presence.”
His compliment flustered her and she stumbled on her next steps. Mr. Wallace’s hand shot out, catching her about the waist and righting her. Back squarely on her feet, John’s concerned face was the first she saw in the crowd. Why could he not have noticed her before she made a fool of herself?
“Are you well, Miss Wayland?” Mr. Wallace asked as they resumed the dance.
She could not respond right away as the pattern led them apart, but she reassured him when they again united that she’d suffered no ill effect—at least nothing more than a little embarrassment at John seeing her stumble like a girl still in short dresses—but she need not tell Mr. Wallace that much.
“I enjoyed our time together immensely,” he said when the second song ended. “Where can I escort you?”
Susannah scanned the crowd. Halfway down the room near one of the refreshment tables, Lady Stanford was deep in conversation with Miss Harris.
She gestured to them and Mr. Wallace began clearing a path through the crowd.
It took a great deal of maneuvering to get through all the people, but it gave her time to get to know him better.
They talked of his siblings which she found equaled the same amount as hers, he being the second in order of birth. The subject reminded her to take in all the details of the night so she might write home about the event.
When they reached the women, Mr. Wallace bowed over her hand, his eyes never leaving her face. “I will leave you then, but if it is acceptable to Lady Stanford I should like to call on you.”
“Tuesday we shall be at home to our friends,” Lady Stanford supplied.
He smiled. “Tuesday then. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Wayland.”
“Well,” Miss Harris said when Mr. Wallace was out of earshot. “You must have made quite the impression on him, Miss Wayland. He looks absolutely besotted.”
Susannah opened her fan to hide the wide smile on her face. “Interested perhaps, but besotted seems a bit intense of a word for one set, don’t you think?”
Lady Stanford shook her head. “No, I concur with Javenia. He made a cake of himself over you.”
Had he really? Susannah searched him out in the crowd, but instead her eyes landed on a petite young woman not much older than her dressed head to toe in black lace, the underskirt of her dress a vibrant white. Her black turban had a large black ostrich feather poking out of the right side.
When the woman turned in her direction, green eyes on a delicate face stared back at her, the expression not soft in the least. Shoulders back, the lady stood no taller than five feet, but she seemed to command the room around her.
“Who is that?” she asked her companions, gesturing with her chin.
“I do not follow,” Lady Stanford said.
“In the black lace, with the carved stone topped cane.” The affectation seemed more of an addition to the woman’s persona rather than a necessity.
“That is Lady Braithwaite,” Miss Harris said. “Widow of the late Earl of Braithwaite.”
“And the widow of Mr. Herbert before that,” Lady Stanford added.
“But she looks too young to have lost two husbands.” Susannah glanced between her companions.
Miss Harris nodded. “Yes. But do not let her innocent exterior fool you. The woman is as tough as they come. And while you may hear a good deal of rumors about her, most are not true.”
Lady Stanford snorted, then covered her face with her wafting fan. “Most.”
Miss Harris peeked at her friend. “I do not understand why you still hold your distance from her, Melior. She is not as scary as you think.”
“Can we talk about this somewhere else, Javenia?” Lady Stanford glanced at the crowd around them, her expression guarded.
Miss Harris looked unconvinced, but she nodded. “I suppose so. Oh look, your husband is come to collect you for a dance, no doubt.”
Susannah turned to see Sir Nathaniel approaching.
“Not so. Miss Wayland is his partner for the next set.” Lady Stanford retrieved a glass from a servant who walked by and took a sip. Her nose wrinkled. “The lemonade is a bit tepid.”
“As it always is.” Miss Harris waved the man away when he tried to offer her one. “I’d rather drink water from a puddle than that sludge.”
“Careful, Javenia,” Mr. Roberts said, joining their party. “If the prince hears you insulting his drinks he might have you beheaded.”
“Catch up with the century, Algenon. He’s not Henry the Eighth.”
The friends’ banter brought a smile to Susannah’s face. They must be back on good terms as they were using first names again, something that had been absent often of late.
“Fine, but at least dance with me so I might vouch for your not so reprehensible character when His Majesty comes to have you led away to his dungeons.”
“I’d rather John speak for me; he’s a far more reliable witness.”
“Ah yes, but he is not here right now, so you are stuck with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I shall have to accept, then.” But the little smile pulling at her lips as Mr. Roberts led her away belied her annoyance. Everyone knew they did not detest each other as much as it appeared.
Sir Nathaniel glanced at the center of the room. “That makes eight couples. I’m not sure there is enough room to admit us, Miss Wayland.”
“Indeed,” she agreed.
“Would you like to try again on the next set or do you have someone else waiting?”
“Lord Newhurst solicited a dance.”
Lady Stanford shared a glance with Sir Nathaniel. “Well then, we would not wish to take away his time, would we, my dear?”
“Not in the least. Would you like me to lead you to where he is stationed, Miss Wayland? It might give you both a better chance of dancing if you are the first to the floor after this set ends.”
Susannah gave a little bounce on her heels. “I would like that very much, Sir Nathaniel.” Had that been too enthusiastic? She’d not meant to show her excitement quite so openly.
He offered an arm to each lady and they slowly made their way through the crowd. When the back of John’s head appeared above everyone, Susannah’s hands began to sweat in her gloves. She hadn’t danced with John since before his tour.
The memory tickled her mind. She’d been nearly sixteen and so excited about her first dance at the assembly in Maidstone.
John had worn a green coat, tan britches, and a smile that had melted her insides like hot butter.
Looking back, it was probably the moment she’d started to see him more as a man and less as the youth she’d idolized.
When they reached John, Sir Nathaniel gave his shoulder a tap. He turned and his gaze settled on Susannah. Little sparks kindled in her chest and she gave him a shy smile hoping to appear alluring.
“I have brought your dancing partner, Newhurst. I know it’s a bit early, but there was no room for us on the floor.”
“I thank you. It would have been hard to find you at all in this crowd, even with my added height. Too many feathers and head adornments to see clearly.”
“No doubt. Well, we shall leave Miss Wayland in your care while we greet my wife’s uncle.”
Susannah took note of His Grace across the room, his very pregnant wife on his arm. “Her Grace does not appear very comfortable.” In truth, she looked miserable.
“No, she does not.” Lady Stanford pulled her husband in the direction of her uncle.
John silently stared after them for a moment. Susannah waited. Normally she would fill the silence, but the loud ballroom did not need any more noise.
He finally turned to her. “You do not have to dance with me if you do not wish it, Miss Wayland.”
Her head jerked back in surprise. Where had he gotten the idea that she did not want to dance with him? “I very much want to dance with you, only I worry there will not be room for us.”
He nodded. “Let us find a quieter parlor then. I know there have been several set aside for guests.”
John wanted to spend time alone… with her. Well not completely alone. There would be guests milling about. The idea appealed to her. At least she’d not embarrass herself again in front of all the esteemed guests.