The words were simple. Meant lightly. But Nora saw the opportunity.
“Mr. Hatcher, you cannot imagine how pleased I am to hear you say so. Then you do not regret this time we’ve had together?”
Holding her breath, she waited, hoping he would say the words that far too many flirts tossed about.
“Yes, quite,” he said with a nod.
Nora considered how to respond and added, “I am sorry that the evening is coming to a close.”
Nodding, Mr. Hatcher seized upon that and stepped fully into her trap. “I wish it could last forever.”
“Do you mean it?” she asked with a bright smile that grew as confusion sharpened in his gaze.
“Of course,” he added, his tone hesitant. “But this needn’t mark the end of our acquaintance.”
Nora slowed, her hand tightening upon his arm as she turned to him with sudden brightness, her expression lifting as though he had offered her something far more meaningful than a passing compliment. A soft laugh escaped her, quick and unguarded, her gaze fixed upon his with an intensity that far exceeded the moment.
“Such wonderful news!” Nora beamed and took his hand in hers. “I can hardly believe it, Mr. Hatcher. You must speak to Papa.”
The gentleman’s brows rose at that announcement, clearly sensing something was afoot, though he couldn’t see the trap wrapped around his ankle. How quickly would he chew the limb off?
“I would welcome the opportunity, of course,” he said.
“Well, we needn’t wait until tomorrow if that is the case,” she said, dragging him back the way they’d come. “You may speak with him at this very moment if you are so keen to settle everything.”
Mr. Hatcher made an odd noise. Something of a half-formed word and a vague sound steeped in confusion. “My brother would wish to be there—”
“You wish to introduce me to your family?” she said, spinning in place and facing him with a grin. Throwing her arms around him, Nora held tight. “What a perfect evening! I had all but lost my faith in men, and then you appear like a wish made manifest. I have never been happier.”
There was no mistaking the tension thrumming through the fellow, for every muscle was strung taut. Even his breathing halted, and Nora released him so that she could lean back and see the expression on his face. And it did not disappoint.
For all that Mr. Hatcher clearly possessed all the skills required of a society gentleman, his eyes were wide and gleamed with the sort of panic reserved for those moments in life when one realized (a heartbeat too late) that one’s fate was sealed. Like being tossed from a fractious mount; the rider holds fast to the reins, certain they have the upper hand, only to have the horse rear, the momentum tearing them from the saddle.
And Nora couldn’t help but add, “I came to this ball expecting tedious conversations and mediocre dance partners, and came away with a beau. I can hardly believe it!”
“I—” Mr. Hatcher began, though his words stuttered. “Beau?”
Chapter 7
“Ifear you misunderstood my meaning, Miss Eden,” Mr. Hatcher said at last, the words coming carefully, each one placed with more thought than any he had spoken that evening. His expression had already begun to recover, the shock smoothing into something more measured, more controlled. “If I have given you cause to think… Well, I would not wish to mislead you.”
Nora’s smile only widened. “Mislead me? You have been very clear in your intentions. So attentive. So complimentary. I did not see it at first, but there is no way to mistake your intentions when you say you do not wish to relinquish your time with me. I have never heard such a tender, earnest declaration.”
Mr. Hatcher drew in a breath, his composure holding, though it required clear effort now. “You are very kind. But I believe you place far too much weight upon a few minor compliments—”
“It was hardly a few. And hardly minor,” she said with a sigh worthy of a lovesick young lady. “Mr. Hatcher, your words have altered more than my evening. They have shifted the course of my life.”
His mouth opened, though whatever he meant to say faltered before it could form. The gentleman’s composure did notcollapse—he was far too well-trained for that—but it strained in a manner that was impossible to miss. He searched for footing, for some phrase that might ease them back onto safer ground without giving offense, without closing a door he clearly did not wish to shut.
Even now, caught so neatly in her trap, he sought a way out that would leave her good opinion intact. Else he would lose whatever advantage he’d gained by approaching her in the first place. Nora saw it in the slight hesitation before he spoke, in the way his gaze flickered, not in panic alone, but in consideration.
Mr. Hatcher was not merely flustered. He was thinking.
For a fleeting moment, something in her softened. The urge to press further faltered as she watched him attempt to disentangle himself with what dignity he could salvage. Mr. Hatcher had been kind in so many ways, and Nora wasn’t certain how kind it was to toy with him.
But the moment passed, swept away in a flood of memories. This was a dance she knew all too well, and Nora was determined to find some enjoyment in it. Heaven knew the gentlemen of London had used her often enough.
“To think, I was prepared to retreat into my book, to endure another tiresome night, and instead—” She drew a breath, her hand pressing briefly to her chest as though the force of her feelings required it. “Instead, I find myself changed. Forever—”
