“I shall go see where Sarah is,” Oliver told her. She could hear hesitation in his voice. He was still wondering whether giving her privacy in this busy place was truly a good idea. “Then, we shall come fetch you. Is that all right?”

“Perfect,” she smiled.

He lingered on for a few moments longer, then she heard him turn around on his heels. She listened to the sound of his footsteps disappearing somewhere behind her, and finally, she heard the balcony door closing. She could not tell how wide the balcony was or where it ended, so she took a seat behind her, feeling the little bench with her fingers.

She inhaled deeply although the action provided little comfort or relief. Back inside, she felt almost sick. Coming here was wrong, but all she wanted was some closure. Instead, she found herself fleeing from everyone, including Joseph, the very reason that had brought her here in the first place.

She tried to calm her mind which was swarming with a million thoughts, a million questions, yet there was only one answer. She was simply not enough. She would never be enough, the way she was. The knowledge haunted her, mocked her even.

It is your own fault for hoping,that little voice reminded her. It had become her enemy once more. Joseph Turner was a duke, but his reputation was not particularly sparkling. Was she wrong to lose her heart to such a rake? It certainly seemed so. Yet he had not promised her anything. It she who promised everything, demanding nothing in return. That was how she loved. Completely, without reserve. Yet, that was not enough.

All of a sudden, the sound of footsteps attacked her as if someone purposefully made more noise than they usually would while walking. She frowned. Did he not just leave?

“Oliver?” she called out her brother’s name, thinking he had returned much more hastily than she expected him to. She was hoping to have at least a few uninterrupted minutes to herself.

In all honesty, she would gladly feign a headache which would lead to the entire family returning home, but she could not do that to Sarah. This was Sarah’s time, after all. Bridget could not see her sister’s blushing smile, but she could hear the joy in every word Sarah spoke when it came to balls and meeting young gentlemen. She was exuberant, enjoying every moment of it. Sarah could not steal that joy away from her sister, even if that came at the expense of her own silent, hopefully invisible misery.

“No,” a man’s voice replied, interrupting her thoughts. “It is me.”

Bridget gasped as the familiar scent of Joseph’s cologne found its way to her. Could it truly be him? She could barely believe it.

It was Joseph’s voice, but somehow different, not as deep as usual. The different tonality might have escaped someone with eyesight, but never someone who relied on their hearing to see the world around them. He was whispering as if he did not wish anyone else to hear them. But she was certain they were alone, at least they would be until the moment when Oliver would join them which could be any moment.

“What is the matter with your voice, Joseph?”

She decided she would not allow him to be so familiar with her again. She would keep him at a distance. She would not permit herself to be drawn to him once more when her path would never again merge with his. She needed to keep her heart safe. It was broken already, and she would be left to pick up the pieces, trying to patch it back together. The process would be long and painful, but she was certain she could do it. Then, she would lock up her heart away for the rest of her life. It was safer that way. Also, much less painful.

“I think they served me port with too much ice this time,” he explained.

She said nothing to that. Instead, she listened to his voice as it poured into her ears, sweet as honey. Why was he here? She would not accept his invitation to a dance, not this time. She needed to cut this rope that was binding her to him, but she could not when he kept pushing her away, then just as she was about to release herself from his power, he would pull her closer to him once again.

“Bridget, I…”

Even the way he said her name sounded slightly odd. She could only explain it by some inner apprehension, just like the one she was subject to. Was he truly fighting the same emotions that she harbored in her own heart? She could not believe it, not after the way he had been avoiding her.

Her heart hammered inside of her chest, pleading with her to listen and to open up again. She couldn’t.

“I do not know what to do about… us,” he finally admitted.

“Oh.” She wanted to voice her own concerns, but that was all she could say. She did not want to get her hopes up again, not now that she had slowly started to accept the painful truth of her reality. “I am afraid that I cannot help you, nor can I remain here unchaperoned with you with the rest of the guests inside.”

With those words, she stood up to go towards the door which she somehow knew was left open as she did not hear it close upon his arrival, but she suddenly felt his fingers gripping at her wrist, pulling her closer to him. His touch was gentle. His cologne was the same as always. Deep, masculine with a hint of citrus. She inhaled deeply. It immediately brought back memories of their kiss. Painfully vivid memories which she knew she would never forget.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered even more softly, more quietly. Those words were meant solely for her to hear. Her heart wanted to leap out of her chest and straight into the palm of his hand because that was where it belonged. It was not her heart any longer, and she doubted it would ever again be.

Without any warning, his lips fell upon hers, and all she could do was lose herself in the moment.

Chapter 22

The kiss was so sudden, so unexpected that at first Bridget did not do anything but stand there, allowing herself to be kissed. For a moment, her lips felt numb as if they did not belong to her but to someone else. She was merely a bystander who somehow knew what was happening, but she could not feel a single thing. This moment of frozen sensations seemed to last a small eternity. Then, the sensations inside of her were suddenly awakened, blossomed into an explosion of vibrations and sensations.

She closed her eyes, allowing a tidal wave of happiness to wash over her, regardless of everything she had been telling herself up to this moment. All those thoughts floated away with the wind as if they never existed. Only one thing remained, one thought, one name.His.

Love won over, no matter how hard she tried to urge herself to be cautious, not to hope. Lovewashope. She refused question the circumstances which led to this development. Joseph had found his way back to her, and that was all that mattered.

She relinquished all control of her senses to him. She kissed him back as fervently and as desperately as he had kissed her that evening, that first time. Then rapidly, she realized that this kiss was completely unlike the one they had shared in the privacy of the closed room in the darkness where no one could see them or interrupt them. His lips did not feel as soft this time, but that could have easily been explained by the windy weather of the previous few days. His voice, slightly altered, also had an explanation behind it. At least, he smelled the way he always smelled. That part was unchanged.

But the kiss… there was something odd about it, something she could not quite put her finger on. It was passionate, she could not deny that, but there was something completely different about it. Was it the place? Was it the complete suddenness of it all? Was he as nervous as she was? Were all those the reasons this kiss felt so foreign? She could not tell.