Page 14

T hea could barely hold still while Frannie dressed her hair for the ball.

“This is all taking so very long. I don’t need to do anything special with my hair,” Thea complained as Frannie set yet another jeweled pin in her hair.

“Excuse me, Miss Thea, but if you go to the ball with your hair up in one of your buns you wear when writing, people will not only know you are not really Lord Flemming’s betrothed, but they’ll think you belong in the kitchens scrubbing a pot. Besides, an elaborate coiffure might distract people from noticing the ink on your fingers I wasn’t able to scrub clean.”

Thea looked down at her hands, rubbed red with lye soap, but still marked around the nail with black ink. If that weren’t bad enough, she bore a callous on her thumb from constantly using her pen knife to sharpen her quill.

“No one noticed at the dinner the other night. It is a good thing I will need to wear gloves, at least until supper.”

Frannie frowned at her through the looking glass. “I daresay dinner with the Whimsleys did not have as many people looking at you. I know for sure, that at least five members of your party were focused solely on the marquess and probably didn’t notice you at all.”

That was true enough.

“I should just let one of the debutantes have him,” Thea mumbled more to herself. Except if the marquess were to marry, Thea would likely be thrown out on her ear. No new bride would allow a strange woman to live in his dower cottage after they’d wed.

Despite her grumbling, Thea was actually somewhat excited to go. It would be a better way to research what happened at an event than the time she’d served drinks at a ball in disguise. It would be fun to dance and meet new people.

Especially if those people thought her acceptable enough to be marrying Lord Flemming rather than being the spinster sister of the most disreputable man in London. Perhaps Stephen’s reputation had not claimed the lowest place, but he was certainly heading there. In any case, Thea was in no hurry for anyone to know they were related.

And then there was the matter of spending more time with Shay. That should not have come into consideration, but she did find she was looking forward to seeing him after his absence from her drawing room the past two days.

She’d learned from Frannie that the marquess had only returned home late this afternoon, though no one seemed to know where he’d gone. It was none of Thea’s business, even if she wondered.

Did he have a mistress he’d gone to visit? Why should she care? She wasn’t actually betrothed to the man. She didn’t have a say in what he did or with whom. She shook her head hoping to also shake loose the irrational feeling of betrayal.

He was giving her the opportunity to enjoy a ball as she might have done if she’d had her come out years ago. That was all.

Mrs. Winters came in then looking even more excited than she had the other night for dinner.

“A ball! It has been ages since I’ve danced.” She stopped and placed her palms together before her. “Don’t you look beautiful? I daresay the men will cause a line to get to your dance card this evening, Miss Sutton.”

“I doubt that.”

“Quite right,” she agreed. “They will take one look at your fiancé and be relinquished to only wishing they could dance with you.”

Mrs. Winters was a balm to Thea’s emaciated ego. “I’m not so sure, but I will be pleased to attend a ball and dance with whomever is willing to ask.”

Thea stood even though Frannie was still attempting to attach yet another pin to her hair.

“I believe I have enough. Anymore and I’ll be in danger of causing injury to my neck for having to hold up such weight.”

Frannie laughed and stepped back to look her over, giving a single nod of approval. Thea thanked the girl and followed Mrs. Winters out of the house just as the carriage was coming to a stop in front of the house.

Shay stepped out and smiled as he looked her over. She did her best to ignore the way her heart rate picked up at his perusal. It didn’t matter what he thought.

Except that it did. More than she wanted to admit even to herself.

“Aren’t I a lucky man indeed to take such lovely women to the ball? I will be the envy of every gentleman there.”

Mrs. Winters tittered at his compliment while Thea looked away with her face on fire. She could only imagine the color of her cheeks at the moment. Why did the man have to say things like that. One would think he was actually flirting with his betrothed. He played his part much too well for her sanity.

When Thea recovered, she held out her gloved hand to allow the marquess to help her into the coach after Mrs. Winters was seated. Shay sat across from them which gave him the ability to stare at her all the way to Pendleton Manor.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked, knowing there was no way Frannie would have let her out of the house with ink smudges visible.

“Nay, but I must admit I’m not sure I recognize you without a smudge somewhere upon your person.”

Was it her or did his voice drop lower when he said the word “person”? Why did something silly cause a pleasant shiver to shoot up her spine. She couldn’t help but think of the hero and heroine she’d written of the night she couldn’t sleep. How their visit to a ball had ended.

They kissed.

Letting out a quick breath, she focused her attention out the window as they waited in a line of carriages for their turn to exit. It was easier to forget when she wasn’t looking at him. But in the reflection of the glass she saw his gaze remain on her. What the devil was he looking at?

“Did you have a pleasant day?” she asked as she brushed a hand down her gown as if to remove a bit of lint that didn’t exist.

“Aye. I was called away to visit Gealach . I had business with the Duke of Granton.”

In one of their conversations he’d spoken of the duke and duchess as though they were good friends and visited each other often. And there was a little boy…

“How is Willie?” she asked.

His smile grew wider. “Very well. He surely grew another inch in the time since I saw him last. I did my best to spoil him during the short visit.”

“I’m sure his parents are pleased by that, my lord.”

He cast her a wicked grin in the light of the lantern outside the carriage door.

Before he could say anything, the footman opened the door and Shay stepped out of the carriage. He reached up to help her down and when their hands touched she felt a strange warmth even through both of their gloves.

It was the exact feeling she’d written about while the couple had danced in a filmy existence of soft light and desire.

They kissed.

There would be no kissing this evening. They were not the characters of the story she’d written. He was a marquess who had gone to great lengths to avoid any kind of matrimonial entanglements. And she was an aging spinster who spent nearly every waking hour with a quill in her fingers.

When the majordomo announced them, it seemed every person in the room turned to see them enter the ballroom. As they made their way deeper into the room, making their way toward their hosts, Thea picked up fragments of sentences and words.

“…his fiancée.”

“…it is a shame he has been snatched up by…”

“I’ve certainly never heard of her.”

“…most eligible bachelor has been taken by…”

Thea noticed the Whimsley girls standing off to the side practically scowling at her. She guessed to these people it did appear that Thea had come out of nowhere and snatched up the marquess. She wished she could tell them the truth and set the record straight, but she found herself enjoying the act of being Shay’s betrothed. Just a little bit.

She just needed to remember it was just an act.

Shay introduced her to the Pendletons and Thea told them they had a lovely home as she was taught to do. Then Shay led her off to the dance floor with Mrs. Winters following close behind.

“Might I claim your first dance, this evening Miss Sutton?” he asked formally. She was glad he’d remembered her fake name for she was too distracted by all the people, the elaborate home, and the marquess to have paid attention.

Thea was certain he would claim her only dances, despite what Mrs. Winters had said. After all, she was a stranger and to their knowledge claimed by the highest-ranking member of their community.

Thea focused on remembering the steps to the dance. It had been many years since finishing school and those evenings her mother would play while she danced with Stephen and her father.

How fun that had been.

“You are smiling,” Shay noted.

“Am I not to smile while dancing with my fiancé?”

He shook his head. “That was not a faux smile, it was real. Which means it was not done as part of our ruse.”

“ Your ruse, my lord. I am just an unwilling accomplice.” She smiled so he would know she was joking.

“Tell me,” he whispered by her ear in much the same way the man in her story had. And like she’d written, she felt another shiver go up her spine.

Clearing her throat, she was too distracted to deflect his question and instead, she answered.

“I was remembering the last time I’d danced. It was with my father and my brother as my mother played. We started out well enough, but at some point I stepped on someone’s toes and we all dissolved into a fit of giggles. After that each time we tried again it would just make us laugh harder.”

“I am sorry things did not turn out the way they were supposed to, Thea. Truly, I am. You should have had your chance to shine. And to find a man who would make you happy.”

“Well, it is not your fault.”

He nodded and looked away, and then was silent the rest of the dance.

When it was over, she was asked to dance by a Mr. Sullivan.

“You are the talk of the party, Miss Sutton,” he said, looking rather proud of himself for having acquired a dance with the person who had roused everyone’s gossip.

“I’m sure many are confused as to why someone as esteemed as the marquess would pick someone so plain to marry.”

He blinked. “Plain? I don’t think anyone has used that word to describe you this evening, my lady.”

At first she thought he was just offering empty platitudes, but then she recalled the number of bejeweled pins with which Frannie had adorned her hair. And the dress that had arrived that morning and fit her as if it had been made for her rather than altered to fit, was of the most current fashion.

Taking in these things one would think she belonged here, at the marquess’s side tonight. And in fact, if her life would have taken a different path all those years ago, she might have been engaged to a titled gentleman. Not Shay, of course, because he didn’t wish to marry. She might have chosen someone like him, she thought. Someone kind and funny. And… handsome.

Someone interested in her work, rather than expecting her to sit primly with her needlepoint. She realized begrudgingly that she might have wanted someone exactly like Shay—Lord Flemming.

Looking across the dance floor she found him staring at her and when their gazes met he smiled. Her body reacted without her permission, smiling back like a besotted fool. Her breath caught and her heartbeat picked up a pace or two.

Oh, dear. She’d thought her dream had made her wish for more between them, but it was the opposite. Her dream was her subconscious telling her she was more than half gone for the man.

This wouldn’t do.