Page 50 of Winterset

Kate

“Oh, Kate.” Hannah beamed at me in the mirror. “You look so beautiful.”

I turned my head to look at my hair in the mirror. Hannah had styled my curls into a coiffure, and I loved the pearls she’d pinned in. “Is it vain to say I feel beautiful?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I am glad you do because I have a surprise for you.”

“I am already so deeply in your debt; I could not possibly accept anything more.”

“Yes, you can.” Hannah smiled. “Trust me, you want to.” She held out her hand to me. “Come on, he is waiting.”

I did not think Lord Jennings had seemed especially impatient, but Hannah pulled me from my seat with such determination that I thought he might not like to be kept waiting.

We moved down the corridor, closer and closer to the grand staircase, and my stomach fluttered with fear, and my hands shook. It had been two years since I’d attended any social event, and although I wanted to be here tonight, my anticipation bordered on anxiety.

Voices drifted up the stairs from the entrance hall below. Sometimes, Lord Jennings sounded so much like Oliver—his tone, cadence, and pronunciation—that it hurt to hear his voice.

Hannah stopped at the end of the corridor and took my hand. “You are shaking like a leaf caught in the wind.”

“I am a bit nervous to be attending a ball,” I admitted.

“Would it surprise you to know I am nervous to host one?”

“Truly? You seem so calm.”

“I paced my room all morning,” she confessed. “I checked the girls for fever about fifty times, thinking I might find some excuse to bow out.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” she said, and we shared a laugh. “Kate, I believe tonight will be an enjoyable experience for us both, but if it isn’t, we will use the twins as an excuse to leave early and retire upstairs. Is that agreeable to you?”

I nodded.

“All right, then.” Hannah squeezed my hand. “It is time. I will go first, and then you follow.”

“Could we not descend the stairs together?” I asked.

“Not tonight,” Hannah smiled. “I want to see your face when you lay eyes on your surprise. So, count to thirty, and then come down.”

I opened my mouth to tell her I was terrified that I might tumble down the stairs without her to hold on to, but she dashed away before I could.

I counted to thirty to give Hannah time to descend the stairs and then again, trying to calm myself.

But there was nothing for it; I was a bundle of nerves and would be until the night was over.

Ever so slowly, I made my way to the grand staircase. At the top, I smoothed my dress, straightened my gloves, and gripped the railing. I kept my gaze down as I descended, fearing that if I looked up, I might lose my footing and fall.

Halfway down, when I felt sure of my footing, I finally looked up.

My breath caught.

Oliver.

Standing in the middle of the room, set apart from the others, seemingly conjured here from one of my dreams. Was I dreaming?

I blinked, and he didn’t disappear.

I drank in the sight of him. Oliver was devilishly dashing, dressed in buff breeches, a dark coat, and a crisply tied cravat.

His head tilted slightly to one side, mouth set in a slanted smile, as if my shock at seeing him were somehow amusing. He strode across the floor and took the stairs two at a time until he stood before me. His eyes, so blue, bluer than I remembered, searched my face.

“Are you really here?” I finally managed.

“I’m really here,” he murmured.

I wanted to throw my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in his neck. And then I realized that if he was here with me, it meant he was not at Winterset, where he should be. “How are you—? Why are you—?”

“I had to see that you made it safely here and were all right. Are you?”

I wanted to answer. I tried to answer. But seeing him here when I’d thought I would never see him again, was too much to make sense of. I could only nod.

“Would it be too soon to ask you for your first set?” he said.

“Not too soon. It’s yours. And my supper set, too, if you want it.”

“I want all your dances, Kate, but tonight, I shall try to be satisfied with just the two.”

My stomach swooped at his words, and I clutched the railing to steady myself.

Oliver offered me his arm, and I relished his nearness as he helped me descend the remaining stairs and walk to where Hannah and Lord Jennings waited in the entrance hall.

“I told you that you would want your surprise,” Hannah whispered in my ear, and then to the group, “Here are your masks.” Mine was made of heavily starched black lace and was decorated with glass beads.

Oliver’s mask was also black but was made of satin and had no embellishments.

“Hurry and put them on. The guests will be here any moment,” Hannah said.

Oliver held up his mask to me. “Help me?”

I nodded, and he turned to allow me to tie it. I took my time, enjoying the feel of my hands in his soft hair. When I was finished, he turned to face me, and I held up my mask. “Will you tie mine?”

“Do you want me to?” He glanced at my hair. “I understand if you would rather have Hannah—”

“You,” I said and turned so that he might tie it.

I felt his warmth first as he stepped close and then a tickle of touch as he took the strings.

His fingers were careful, too careful to be tying a proper bow.

I understood why, considering how I’d reacted when he’d playfully pulled my plait that evening over cards.

But so much had changed since then. I longed to feel his fingers in my hair.

I reached behind me and guided his hands into my hair.

Oliver inhaled sharply, his hands stilled for a second, then they resumed tying. When he was finished, he lightly trailed his fingers down the side of my face, touching a tendril near my temple. The sensation sent a wave of warmth down my neck that spread throughout my body.

“You look so lovely tonight, Kate,” Oliver whispered in my ear. And then he straightened and stepped back.

Beside us, Hannah smiled up at her husband. I would not have noticed her nervousness had she not said anything, but I saw it now.

Lord Jennings wrapped his arm around her waist in reassurance.

A knock came at the door, and my heart jumped.

“That should be Lady Margaret or the Athertons. Our dearest friends,” Hannah said. “I asked them to arrive early, thinking you might be more comfortable surrounded by a group of friendly faces.”

I smiled, grateful. “I’m sure I will be.”

“I’ve briefly told them your story so that they, too, might make you feel more comfortable,” Hannah said.

“I am grateful. Thank you.”

Lord Jennings nodded to the butler to open the door.

The Athertons were the first to arrive. As soon as they walked in the door and saw Oliver, they went straight to him, eager to welcome him home.

After, Lord Jennings introduced me to Miss Atherton, who insisted I call her Amelia, and her brother, Lord Atherton, or Frederick, as he demanded everyone call him.

With their fiery red hair and personalities to match, I liked them both immediately.

Lady Margaret arrived shortly after. She looked every bit the daughter of a duke and had the manners to match her station, but she was kind and warm and gracious, and I could not have liked her more.

Lord Jennings and Hannah led our small company into the impressive ballroom, and I held tight to Oliver’s arm. Candlelight flickered in the full-length mirrors that covered the windows and bathed the room in light. We claimed a quiet corner.

As hosts, Lord Jennings and Hannah stood at the ballroom door to greet their guests as they arrived.

The room quickly filled with people, noise, and heat.

Someone appeared at Oliver’s side, a gentleman, to pull him away.

Oliver hesitated, glancing at me, and I motioned that he should go.

He moved only a few paces away but stood within sight.

I stayed with Amelia, Lady Margaret, and Frederick.

They chatted as only old friends could, but somehow, they still made me feel seen, heard, and important.

I watched Oliver talk to the gentleman and a few other people.

Friends, I realized, from their shared smiles.

Oliver moved effortlessly, fluidly, from one person to the next, all eager to hear of his Grand Tour.

He talked and teased, then turned to the next person waiting for his attention and did it all again.

It was mesmerizing.

He seemed so confident, so carefree.

I could not look away.

Lady Margaret, who stood beside me, followed my gaze. “Mr. Jennings is handsome, is he not?”

My cheeks warmed, and I was glad I wore a mask to hide it. “He does look quite dashing,” I agreed, then added, “I daresay he knows it.”

“I daresay he does.” Lady Margaret grinned. “But perhaps his confidence is part of his charm.”

Perhaps it was. The self-possessed way in which he carried himself was undeniably attractive. I just did not like that I was not the only one to appreciate his fine qualities.

Finally, the first set was announced, and Oliver came to claim his dance.

I could hardly believe we were standing in this crowded ballroom together, taking our places across from one another. The first dance was a reel, and we had but a moment alone to talk, with all the turning. We managed a few well-timed touches, but that was all.

The second dance was a country dance. We stood in two lines, women on one side and men on the other.

When the music began, Oliver bowed, and I curtsied.

We danced only a few forms together, but he was an excellent dancer.

He executed everything perfectly and even seemed to enjoy it.

I suspected that might be because he’d had many opportunities to dance and with whatever woman he desired.

Women were always watching him. Did he feel their stolen stares? Did he enjoy their attention?

Then it was time to move down the line and dance with the next man. Frederick. He was also a graceful dancer, though he did not seem to enjoy it. Poor fellow.