But tonight the loneliness was worse because thereweresounds. So many marvelous noises. Carriages were lined up on the street, and when she’d looked out one of the windows of a bedchamber upstairs, she saw them turning into the long drive of the residence next door. They were hosting a ball.
She could catch only glimpses of the people attending in their finery. They were too far away for her to discern any details. Bereft, she turned away from the window. She would never attend so glorious an occasion. She would never receive invitations. She would never be welcomed into proper homes. She would always be an outcast, for no matter how much she might gain in possessions, she could not change the circumstance of her birth. It would continue to overshadow every other aspect of her life.
Because these maudlin thoughts threatened to take a stranglehold, she marched to her bedchamber and rang for Lila. An hour later, within the shadows of the garden, she listened as the music wafted on the breeze. She imagined the doors that led onto the terrace were open, allowing the air to cool the guests as they waltzed over the polished floor. She was tempted to retrieve a ladder, place it against the wall, and peer over into the neighbor’s domain, but she was no longer a child who didn’t know how rude and intrusive it was to spy through holes in fences. So she merely listened and imagined it.
She could hear people talking, quiet whisperings and murmurs mingled with soft sighs. Lovers meeting for a tryst no doubt. Lovers were acceptable, mistresses were not. It hardly seemed fair, but then allowances were made when the heart was involved. The music drifted into silence. She missed it, missed it terribly. Perhaps she would hire an orchestra to play for her and Rafe one evening. He didn’t seem to care one whit how she spent his money. His concerns revolved around only what occurred in the bedchamber.
The lilting strains of a waltz floated over the wall. Swaying with the gentle music, she raised her arms as her dancing instructor had taught her, resting one hand on an imaginary tall gentleman, envisioning him placing his hand on her waist, squeezing slightly, a secret shared, that something intimate existed between them. He held her other hand and began to lead her in swirls about the garden, his eyes on hers because he was too infatuated with her to look away.
She dipped one way, twirled around, and her imaginary gentleman took form, a solid hand at her waist, a warm one holding hers. Rafe. Without missing a step, he guided her over the lawn in perfect cadence with the music. She didn’t remember dropping her hand to his shoulder. Perhaps because it was already the perfect height for him to slip beneath. Holding his gaze, she smiled softly. “I wasn’t expecting you until midnight.”
“I hadn’t planned to return untilaftermidnight.”
“Yet, here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“You must think me quite the ninny to be dancing in the garden.”
“I think you’re beautiful dancing in the garden, with just enough moonlight to make you mysterious.” His voice was low, sultry. He smelled of tobacco and whiskey. “You’re wearing the red.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“You like it.”
“I love it. Blast you. You knew I’d wear it.”
He grinned, his teeth pearly in the moonlight. “I had hoped. It suits you as I thought it would.”
The music stopped, and when the next tune began—a quadrille—they continued to waltz. So like him. Determined not to conform, but to do exactly as he wanted, and he obviously preferred waltzing.
“I’ve never danced with a gentleman before.”
“You’re not dancing with one now.”
Only she was. He saw himself as a rogue, a scoundrel, but threads of goodness were woven through the coarse fabric of his character.
“I’ve never been to a ball,” she told him. “Do they have many next door?”
“This is their first in London.”
“They seem to have drawn quite the crowd.”
“Because they’re a curiosity.”
“Who are they?”
He merely shook his head and studied her intently. “Did you wish to go?”
To the bedchamber. It was where they were inclined to spend all their time now, and while it was lovely when he was with her, sometimes she wanted more. “A few more moments before we go indoors.”
“I was referring to the ball. Would you like to make an appearance?”
A shiver of anticipation raced through her, before it crashed into reality. “What do you plan? Climbing over the wall? You can’t simply arrive. You must be invited.”
“I received an invitation.”
She nearly tripped over her feet. His hold on her tightened as he steadied her. Naturally he’d been invited. He was a lord. An available one at that. The mamas would be all over him, striving to match him up with their respectable daughters. She shifted her attention to the wall, thinking of the glamour that rested beyond. It was a world into which she’d hardly been allowed to peer. Stepping away from him, she walked into the deeper shadows. She had so often dreamed of attending a ball, but the price now...
