Page 19 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

Henry arrived at the Forths’s ball with his parents. Society would realise tonight that there were plans for the two families to be joined.

He handed his hat to a footman then followed his father and mother towards the receiving line. The ballroom beyond it was not overly full. His family had arrived early, as he was to open the dancing with Alethea.

He bowed over Aunt Julie’s hand. ‘Good evening.’

‘It is a pleasure to have you here, Henry.’

The Forths held a ball each year, even though Susan and Alethea had not come to town with them for a season before. Henry never attended those balls, he mostly avoided his family’s social circles and spent his time with Harry and his friends in bawdy houses and clubs.

‘Uncle Casper.’ Henry bowed slightly to Lord Forth.

Then he reached Alethea.

She smiled brightly, with the lilting flirtatious smile she saved for him. ‘Hello.’

When he took her hand she lowered into a deep formal curtsy.

Their drive in Hyde Park had been enjoyable, she had a zest for life and an easy humour.

There was no doubt if they wed they would suit.

‘Alethea.’ He bowed and kissed the back of her fingers.

‘I shall see you in a while, for the first dance.’

He received another smile. Then he moved on.

Good Lord. The sight of Susan struck him hard.

Her hair had been styled and it was magnificently done.

It was dressed high on her head, with a single coil trained to fall over her left shoulder.

His fingers itched to touch it, and to touch the pale skin of her nape.

But most strikingly… ‘You are not wearing your spectacles.’

‘You need not say it as though it were a miracle. I have not regained my eyesight. Alethea merely persuaded me to leave them off; she said it ruined the look of my hair.’

‘Can you see without them?’

She smiled at him, a very honest natural smile. ‘I can see you very clearly now, but if you decide to nod at me from across the room later, do not expect me to respond, you will be nothing but a blur.’

He smiled at her jesting, as he took hold of her hand.

She lowered into a formal curtsy as Alethea had done.

‘I have already told you your eyes are pretty whether you have your spectacles on or not, but I agree with Alethea, with your hair in that style you look better without them. You have been hiding your beauty, Susan.’

She slid her hand free from his before he had a chance to consider kissing it, and coloured up. He smiled again as she looked at the next guest in the line to be introduced and left her to the task.

The girls would know everyone in London by the end of the night. But that was the purpose of hosting a ball to introduce your daughters. It was a method by which they might then have numerous dance partners and the possibility of romance and marriage to one of them.

Henry followed his father into the ballroom. They walked over to where Harry’s parents stood. He did not see Harry, but it was rare for Harry to attend events as it had been rare for Henry. Yet Harry had promised to dance with Susan.

‘Is Harry still planning to attend, Uncle Edward?’

‘He is. He is arriving independently because, God forbid, he should be seen with his parents.’

Henry smiled. He liked his Uncle Edward. ‘Aunt Ellen.’ He bowed to his aunt.

She nodded at him. ‘You look very handsome, Henry, and you are such a rare sight at balls you will have half the young women fainting.’

He gave her a wry look and shook his head. They knew he was promised to Alethea.

He looked at his cousins, Helen and Jennifer. The two girls were inseparable. They had been brought out into society together even though there was a year between them, because Helen waited to share the event with Jennifer.

‘Hello, Henry.’ Helen curtsied. He bowed and kissed her hand.

‘Henry.’ Jennifer performed her curtsy.

‘Harry is here, Papa,’ Helen said.

Henry looked across his shoulder. Harry was at the end of the receiving line, bowing over Susan’s hand as he lifted it to his lips.

She smiled broadly at him when he straightened.

He hung on to her fingers for a moment and flashed her a smile after she’d said something.

Then he moved on. Three of Harry’s cousins on his mother’s side followed him; William Wiltshire, who had the courtesy title of Marquis, as heir to his father’s dukedom, Gregory Stewart who was the heir to an earldom, like Henry, and Frederick Rush, another who already held the courtesy title of Marquis.

All of them were men with whom Henry and Harry socialised constantly in the clubs and brothels. In fact, they had probably come from there.

One by one they progressed along the receiving line. The Forths were very close friends of William’s parents too. They had known both sides of Harry’s family for years. Henry supposed that was why his friends crept out of the crevices of London society to see the girls.

Henry had no idea if they knew of his particular interest. He had never mentioned it but Harry might have.

They each bowed over Alethea’s hand, then bowed over Susan’s.

When Susan laughed, a sharp sensation sliced into Henry’s gut.

He hated seeing her laugh for others, when she had kept that part of herself from him for years – which was a selfish, foolish thought.

Harry had been correct the other day, Henry had no right to care what Susan did.

He sighed and looked away.

What would Susan and Alethea think if they knew the true nature of the men kissing their hands? If they did, they would know his history too, and that was not a good thought.

When his father said he regretted his past, Henry had mocked the idea. He was learning to understand that sentiment and mocking his own bloody-minded ignorance now.

He looked at Jennifer and Helen. ‘If you will excuse me, I shall join Harry.’

Before he made it across the room, though, the orchestra began to play the tune of a waltz. His aim then became a need to collect Alethea.

William had completed his greetings and left the receiving line, but he turned back too and when Henry reached the girls William was taking Susan’s hand. He must have volunteered himself for the first dance with her.

‘The first dance was mine, Susan!’ Harry interrupted, striding across the floor. ‘You cannot renege on me. Fair is fair, I shall not let you play so fast and loose.’

Susan smiled. Alethea stepped about them, leaving the others to argue over Susan’s hand. Henry took her hand and led her to the middle of the floor, then held her as he ought for the dance, and began to turn her.

Alethea’s turquoise blue eyes shone in the light thrown by the giant chandelier above them as the music swelled and filled the room.

He looked about to ensure they were not likely to collide with anyone else dancing.

Harry had reclaimed his place as Susan’s partner and was walking her out onto the floor.

She had that light in her eyes that only seemed to shine in a ballroom.

When Harry formed the hold of the waltz, Susan had her back to Henry.

The way her hair was dressed, so high, it showed off her neck to perfection.

Her neck was a little longer than Alethea’s and while the single coil of hair curled like a serpent about one side, the other was bare and waiting to be kissed…

Henry swallowed back the thought, but whoever had dressed her hair had done so deliberately to place an emphasis on the extreme femininity of her nape, and because she was a little thinner than Alethea the fragility of that spot was accentuated without any aid.

‘I am so excited. I have felt giddy all day…’ Alethea said.

Henry ceased daydreaming. ‘I am not surprised, it is your first London ball.’ As they danced he tried to maintain the conversation, but his thoughts kept finding their way back to Susan, and when he looked into Alethea’s eyes, it was Susan’s that appeared in his mind.

He bowed over Alethea’s hand when the dance ended, and was about to walk her back to Uncle Casper and Aunt Julie, when a man who was older than him, who Henry did not know by name, came to escort her for the next dance.

A jolt struck through Henry at the thought of a stranger dancing with Alethea, and yet numerous strangers had danced with her at the assembly in York.

Or rather, people who had been strangers to him.

‘Lord Stourton,’ Alethea acknowledged.

He left Alethea to the stranger, as she had obviously been introduced, and looked for Susan. He had promised Susan the second dance.

There, she was still with Harry, he had walked her back to her parents and was conversing with them.

As Henry walked across, William approached her. Damn.

‘This is my dance, I believe, Susan!’ he called forward. His gaze was on her profile as she turned to William. She looked less dignified without her spectacles but somehow more… more… touchable .

He waited for the moment when she would try to renege on him.

But her head turned and she smiled. ‘It is.’

Those exceptional eyes struck him full force.

It was a country dance. He wished it was another waltz, he had not forgotten their dance in York. She was a very good dancer, and a woman with light feet was a pleasure to lead in a waltz.

She accepted his arm, and held it gently, as she always did, in the way only she did.

He wondered if she knew that most women merely lay their hand on a gentleman’s arm.

‘William.’ Henry bowed his head towards his friend.

William smiled wryly. Harry threw a conspiratorial smile at Henry, he had enjoyed his waltz with Susan too.

Henry led her to join a set which made an eight. He could have joined the set Alethea and her partner stood within, but chose not to.

‘You are looking very well,’ he said when Susan let go of his arm.

‘Because I am not wearing spectacles.’ She smiled. The charm of her ballroom smile struck him in the gut – and the chest. Why was she so different in a ballroom?