Well, too bad. He’d admitted it now. And while it wasn’t a confession, so to speak, it might as well have been.
There was no denying he had feelings for her any longer. Now she just had to stay the course. Remind him that she was already onto him so there was no point in fighting it.
She rolled her shoulders back. Did most young ladies have to fight with their beaus until they admitted defeat? Likely not. But luckily for Sebastian, Estella had never backed down from a challenge.
She watched him greet a baron, then exchange pleasantries with the man’s wife.
Estella felt an unexpected surge of tenderness so fierce it shocked her.
This difficult, impossible, wonderful man who could not stop protecting people even when it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
She was going to marry him. The thought arrived with calm certainty. She was going to walk into that garden and tell him the truth, and he was going to resist, because that was what Sebastian did. But she was done allowing him to decide their future alone.
The next quarter of an hour passed in a warm blur. She made conversation with the duchess's acquaintances. She accepted a glass of champagne and sipped it slowly. She felt buoyant, lit from within, and at least two people commented that she looked particularly well this evening.
She was standing near the edge of the ballroom, taking it all in, when she noticed a young woman hovering near the entrance. The lady was pretty in a pale blue gown. Pretty, and…visibly anxious.
The woman wasn't socializing. She was searching. Turning her head this way and that, rising slightly on her toes, scanning the crowd with an urgency that tugged at Estella's chest.
The poor girl looked worried.
Estella knew what it looked like to be alone at a ball, searching for a familiar face. So she crossed the room.
"Are you looking for someone?" She smiled brightly at the petite brunette. "Perhaps I can help."
The woman turned to her with relief so visible it confirmed every one of Estella's instincts. She was near Estella's age, with chestnut hair and a pleasant, open face. "Yes. Thank you. I'm looking for Lord Blackwood. I was told he'd be attending this evening."
Estella's smile held steady. Half of London knew Lord Blackwood attended these events. It wasn't unusual for someone to seek him out. "I know Lord Blackwood well." She offered a small curtsy. "I'm Miss Hale."
"Oh!" The woman's face brightened with genuine warmth. "How lovely. I'm Lady Clarissa Whitfield." She said the name with a slight hesitation, as though testing whether it might mean something.
It didn't.
"Welcome to London, Lady Clarissa. Have you been in town long?"
"Only a few days." Clarissa's smile was sweet but edged with something Estella recognized. Nerves. "I confess I don't know a soul. I didn’t want to tell my brother I was coming, you see— Oh, but no, of course you wouldn’t understand. It’s only that it’s a secret, really, but… My chaperone is here, but she’s, well… Navigating these events alone is rather…" She trailed off for a second time with a self-conscious laugh.
"Terrifying?" Estella offered.
"Yes, exactly," Clarissa breathed.
Estella liked her. Clarissa had none of Fairchild's polished ease. Her warmth was genuine, slightly awkward, and entirely without artifice.
"Let me help you find Lord Blackwood," Estella said. "I saw him earlier by the far wall."
"Oh, you’ve seen him." Clarissa’s smile fell. "Good. That is good."
Estella had the feeling it was not good, though what wasn’t good was difficult to say. Did she want to see Lord Blackwood or avoid him?
She tilted her head to the side. "Do you know the marquess well?"
Clarissa shook her head with another nervous little laugh. "Oh no. But I need to speak with him, you see…"
When she didn’t continue, Estella nodded. Ah, so that was it. She had some business with Sebastian, but she’d heard the rumors about him. "He’s not at all as intimidating as he’s made out to be."
Clarissa’s brows arched in surprise. "No? That’s a relief. I did hear he could be…reserved."
Estella stifled a laugh. "That is a diplomatic way of putting it."
