CHAPTER 1
“Are you well, Hettie?” Catherine Deverell, Duchess of Coldmere’s eyes creased in concern as she leaned towards Lady Harriet Montrose.
Harriet swallowed, her cheeks coloring slightly even as a part of her welcomed Catherine’s question. They were standing in the ballroom of Catherine’s estate. The music, the chatter, even the chandeliers felt too noisy to Harriet.
She felt beads of sweat trickle down the back of her neck as an invisible hand slowly clamped itself around her chest.It is just a ball.Her mental reprimand did nothing to help.
“I… I just need a little rest. A moment or two to gather myself. I always forget how overwhelming balls are.” Harriet’s eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Oh, Kitty, I do not mean to suggest that it is any fault of yours or even the ball, it is just-”
“- breathe, Hettie darling. It is perfectly all right. I have known you long enough to know exactly what you mean.” Catherine smiled reassuringly at her and took her hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “In truth, I myself am finding it more tiring than I expected.”
“Really?” Harriet canted her head towards Catherine.
“Alaric tried to convince me to wait a little longer – he’s fiercely protective over me since Henry was born. Even if it was nearly three months ago – he treats me as though I am made of porcelain.” Catherine shook her head, gesturing to the dancefloor where their friend Lady Louisa Everly was dancing with Catherine’s husband. “To be honest, I am a little relieved that Louisa convinced him to dance.”
Harriet could hear the mingled exasperation and amusement in Catherine’s voice. It brought a smile to her lips. “I am sure he would not begrudge you a little rest if you needed it.”
“He would not. I suspect he would cancel the whole ball.” Catherine shook her head. “More to the point, he will never let me hear the end of it. He does so love being right.”
“And I suspect that when it comes to you, it is a rarity indeed.” Harriet teased. “Though I am glad the two of you are at least less combative than you were when you were first wed.”
“As am I,” Catherine agreed. “Now, back to the matter at hand. I may not be able to slink away from the proceedings, but you atleast can get a temporary reprieve. The Eastern Library should be empty, and I will ensure you are not bothered.”
“Thank you.” Harriet gave Catherine a grateful smile, and turned, itching to be in the quiet of the library.
“Do not tell me you are sneaking out yet again, Hettie.” A voice said from behind her.
Harriet’s foot froze in midair as she turned to the last member of their little friendship group, Lady Fiona Blackwood. Fiona arched an eyebrow at her, folding her arms over her chest. Her breathless air and a slight flush to her cheeks let Harriet know she had just finished dancing.
“I am taking a moment to collect myself, that is all.” Harriet wished her voice did not sound so small.
“The ball has barely even begun!” Fiona grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “You are only a year older than me, and yet with the way you behave, one would think you were a woman of three score years – your youthful exuberance long since forgotten.”
“Some of us are simply old souls.” Harriet shrugged and forced herself not to pluck at an errant thread on her dress.
“Clearly.” Fiona laughed. “Though I do not understand it. Why act like an old spinster when there are lines of eligible young gentlemen to dance with?”
“Not all of us share your propensity for flirting, Fi,” Catherine teased.
“And if one never dances, one will never develop the requisite skills to engage in such behavior.” Fiona drew herself up taller and reached for Harriet’s arm. “Come on, Hettie, I am sure I could find you the most delightful partner.”
“Perhaps once I have rested, Fi.” Harriet took a step backwards, slipping out of her grasp.
“I shall hold you to that. Do not think I am just going to let you hide in the background. You should be out where everyone can bask in your radiance.”
“I would rather not have so many eyes on me.” Harriet did not add that she doubted anyone would be basking in anything she had to offer. “I prefer a quieter life.”
Fiona arched an eyebrow, and Harriet suspected that something of her unsaid thoughts had shown on her face, for Fiona’s expression softened. “I know you do. You know I am not trying to upset you, Hettie. It has just been an age since we were all together.”
Guilt flared in Harriet’s chest and she nodded. “I know. I promise, I am not leaving. Give me half an hour, and I will be good as new.”
“You mean you will actually dance?”
“Yes.”If someone asks me.Harriet suspected that no one would; people rarely noticed her, especially with her more gregarious friends around. And that suited her perfectly.
Harriet slipped away from her friends before Fiona could change her mind, making her way to the library as quickly and quietly as possible. She felt no eyes upon her as she slipped out of the door and into the hall.
It did not take her long to reach the Eastern library, and as soon as she walked into the room and shut the door behind her, she let out a long, steady breath. The smell of mahogany mingled with wood smoke and ink, making the tension in Harriet’s shoulders ease.
