Page 32 of Love Abandoned

His solicitous demeanor baffled her already boggled senses. The warmth had returned to his eyes. She could make no sense of it. Was it for public consumption? Richard deplored being the focus of gossip. It was why nobody, except Sophia, knew about the long drought in their relationship.

“Thornwood.” Lord Rawley clasped Richard’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Good debate today. Good debate.”

“Lady Thornwood.” Lady Rawley greeted Elizabeth smoothly, inviting her to the waiting room to freshen up.

Elizabeth glanced at Richard, who was lingering in conversation with Lord Rawley. She caught his eye, and he nodded, so she followed the maid to an anteroom outside the ballroom. Plush in red-and-yellow velvet, the room was crammed with women lounging on settees, pruning in mirrors, and clustered in standing groups. The maid slipped off Elizabeth’s mantle and pattens and disappeared with them. Elizabeth met Sophia’s eyes at the same time Sophia spotted her. She turned from the group of ladies she was talking with and called out Elizabeth’s name, waving her over.

“Mia amica,” she said affectionately, kissing each of Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I am happy to see you. You have come with your wayward husband, no?”

Warmth flushed Elizabeth’s cheeks. Absent, yes. Distant and disinterested, yes. But she could never consider the possibility of wayward. Not Richard.

“I tease when I should not,” Sophia said quietly, rubbing a hand on Elizabeth’s arm in apology.

“I am too sensitive,” Elizabeth said. “And who is attending you this evening?”

Sophia sighed dramatically. “It is the duke again. People will begin to talk, I know, but I needed his sway for your invitations this evening.” She delicately shrugged and smiled. “With Catherine unexpectedly deciding to stay, we are scrambling to find entertainment she will enjoy. And you, my friend, have ignored too many of your invites.” Sophia clicked her tongue in a tsk. “Now that Lord Thornwood is more amenable to gatherings, you will consider not being so neglectful?”

Elizabeth flushed again but for a different reason this time. It was exactly what she hoped, except she also desired he be more amenable to some private activities as well.

“I have been given my signal. I must away. The duke is opening the ball with Lady Rawley, and I must partner with Lord Rawley. Wish me luck.” She leaned in to Elizabeth’s ear. “He has the feet of a duck and the grace of apinguino,” she whispered and laughed joyously as she swung around and walked regally from the room.

Elizabeth lingered, letting the crowd dissipate. When it had thinned, she checked her hair and face in the mirror and left the waiting room. Richard was talking with Lord and Lady Walford, his lean frame relaxed compared to his rigidity in the coach. Catherine spied her and smiled invitingly.

“Wonderful! We may go in now,” Catherine said to Lord Walford before turning back to Elizabeth. “They’re opening with a minuet. I know it’s terribly out of fashion, but it’s so elegant to watch.”

“For a time, but it gets dull standing around, don’t you think?” Elizabeth had had enough lingering for a lifetime.

“It is a private ball, not court,mia amica. We can have more than one couple at a time, no?” Catherine said in perfect imitation of Sophia’s accent, then giggled. “Sophia told me those who know it may dance the second set.” She nudged Lord Walford, and he smiled indulgently.

Richard smiled at Elizabeth and raised his arm as though they behaved with such ease regularly. His gaze was still warm and inviting. If he was acting, he was doing a fine job. She placed her hand on his forearm, and they turned to the ballroom.

The small orchestra finished warming up, and a general hush fell over the crowd. The Duke of Salinger strolled gracefully across the gleaming wooden floor and bowed to Lady Rawley, who in turn curtsied. Together they walked to the dance floor, then separated. The first notes of the violin lightly brushed the air, and a quiver of excitement raced around the large room as His Grace and Lady Rawley bowed to their audience before turning to each other and bowing again.

Together or apart, they danced beautifully, their lines curved, their steps sure. The duke danced as a young man would, showing no sign of his age, and Lady Rawley, although voluminous and visibly top-heavy, moved with exquisite grace. They were a pleasure to watch. The first dance of the set finished, and Sophia and Lord Rawley joined the couple. The ballroom manager circulated, inviting a few others to join the second dance of the set, with the specific direction to keep to the far end of the ballroom, away from the foursome.

“Oh, Nicholas, can we?” Catherine said, looking up to her husband from where she sat.

“Well, you can, darling, but it is beyond me. I would prefer to disappoint you than shame you.”

Elizabeth caught Catherine’s crestfallen face before she recovered and smiled. Catherine would soon be sequestered in the country, growing rounder and more awkward with each day. There were not many dances left for her this season.

“Richard, why don’t you escort Catherine to the floor?” She turned to look at Catherine. “He is an outstanding dance partner.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Elizabeth smiled encouragingly at both Catherine and Richard.

Richard waved to the manager and got his nod of approval, then he politely held out his hand for Catherine. Elizabeth watched them walk away, Richard leaning in to hear what Catherine was saying and Catherine sashaying in that manner that slowly builds as one increases. If anyone did not yet recognize she was with child, it would not be long before it became blatantly obvious.

“That was kind of you,” Lord Walford said. “I do appreciate it. A seat?” he asked, indicating she should take the chair Catherine had vacated.

“I shall stand, thank you. I sit far too much. As for kindness, I believe it is more a sense of kinship. I have had two children and remember well the lonely days of confinement as the time grew nearer and I could not even find the strength to entertain female guests.”

Lord Walford grew pale. “Forgive me. I did not grow up with women. It is that uncomfortable? That unbearable? Or that dangerous—”

“No,” she said, realizing she had stirred anxiety in him. “My apologies. I meant only that a child steals nourishment from its mother even before it enters this world. And I needed to preserve my energy for what lay ahead. There is no more danger in the later months than the earlier ones.” She did not add the true risk was in the birthing. It was something no one could control, so there was no need to bring it up.

He nodded but did not truly look relieved. “I could not imagine a life without her,” he said quietly as he watched her dance.

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