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Gathering all his courage, he asked, “H-have you, perchance, seen M-Miss Wayland?”

“I have, in fact. She left me not a quarter hour ago.”

“Could you direct me to her?”

She indicated the stairs with her chin. “That way.”

“I am much obliged.”

He descended the stairs opposite of the ones he’d come up, re-entering the large assembly room. There, across the floor, was the vision he’d been seeking. He wove his way through the crowd, his eyes trained on Susannah, but another figure stepped in front of him.

“Lord Newhurst,” Miss Wallace exclaimed. “I did not know you were coming this evening. What a pleasant surprise.”

He nodded to her.

“I did not think you were fond enough of dancing to brave Almack’s.”

“I… do not mind dancing. It is a-a p-pleasant enough divertissement.”

She tipped her head to the side at his choice of words. “Do you mean pursuit?”

“They are the same thing.” He glanced across the room only to find Susannah had accepted a partner and taken a place in the dance. If she was to be there, so would he. “Would you like to dance, Miss Wallace?”

The woman’s face lit with delight. “I would indeed.”

Taking his forearm, she followed him to the floor where he purposefully placed them so he’d come in contact with Susannah during the course of the dance. And if he were very lucky, he might be able to ask her for the next set at the end of this one.

“My brother tells me you enjoy painting, Lord Newhurst,” Miss Wallace said when they met in the middle of the dance.

“Oh?” How had the man come by that information? Not many knew of his talents except those of his close acquaintance.

“Yes, he says you are quite proficient.”

They separated and he glanced down the line at Susannah. The pieces clicked into place. Of course she would tell her new beau of his paintings. They’d talked about it quite often through the years.

“I would not say I am a master, b-but I do enjoy it.” He took Miss Wallace’s hands and led her in a promenade to the end of the line—where Susannah was positioned.

Her eyes met his as he passed and she immediately ducked her head. The action was so uncharacteristic of her buoyant nature. She must be cross with him. For what he was not sure.

He and Miss Wallace took their places to wait for the other couples in the set to complete their movements. Susannah’s gazerose when the call was given to circle with the corner neighbor. That was him.

They approached one another and he noted the tightness around her eyes and the shimmer of tears present. A plea lay in their depths, but for what? Back in his spot, he watched her smile at her partner, but it did not reach beyond her lips. Something was amiss.

When the music ended, she abruptly left the line of dancers before the second song of the set even started. Her partner rushed after her, his face a mask of concern. John was tempted to do the same. Miss Wallace frowned at him when he took a step in that direction, and he realized how rude it would be to leave her.

Melior appeared in the next instant and ushered Susannah out of the room. Perhaps she’d grown ill. Whatever the case, at least someone he trusted had come to rescue her.

When the set was completed, he went in search of her. At the doors he found Eddie collecting his greatcoat.

“Are you leaving already?”

“I believe we must. Melior and Mr. Wallace have already escorted Miss Wayland to the carriage on account of her feeling so poorly. Nate will be here momentarily and then we will be on our way.”

Why did Mr. Wallace have to play the protector? Everywhere Johnathan wished to be Mr. Wallace already was, and it rankled.

“There you are, John,” Nate said as he approached. “I hoped to find you. It seems Miss Wayland is ill.”

He nodded. “That is what Eddie was telling me. Is there anything I might do to assist?”