Page 125 of Winterset
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 withAmelia, 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.
