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"How strange.That door leads to a hall which goes nowhere other than Lord Page’s library, and an entry to the servants’ corridors. Why would Lord Seabury go in that direction? Unless, of course, he wishes to avoid socialising by hiding himself away with a book.”
Eugenia’s voice contained nothing but idle curiosity, and a small element of amusement – Susan knew that she well understood the desire to hide away with a book at times! But her words caused Susan to turn and look – it was lord Seabury who had been mentioned, and she simply couldn’t help herself.
But having turned, Susan watched, with a growing sense of dread and horror which rooted her to the spot where she stood, as Lord Seabury passed into the hall which led to Lord Pages’ library, and then, moments later, Lady Middlebrook went through that same door. The woman was alone, which was most unusual… where was Lady Henrietta?
Susan couldn’t move, save to reach out and wordlessly grip Lady Eugenia’s wrist in her trembling fingers.
“What is it, Susan?” Eugenia whispered with a concerned frown.
Susan pressed her lips together and gave the barest of nods towards the hallway which led to the library. Her mouth was painfully dry, and she licked her lips, attempting to wet them before she replied to Eugenia.
“It seems that Lady Middlebrook is following Lord Seabury to the library, for that is where he must be going, if, as you said, there is nothing else down that hallway.”
“Whatever for?”
Eugenia frowned and craned her neck, spotting, through the still partially open hallway door, Lady Middlebrook lurking just outside the library door, as if she might be eavesdropping.
“I— I dare not even say it,” Susan rasped. “The mere thought of it is making me sick to my stomach.”
She pressed her gloved knuckles against her lips as her stomach roiled with nausea. She suspected that Lady Middlebrook and her daughter, Lady Henrietta, might be attempting to trap Lord Seabury. And if they succeeded?
Tears stung Susan’s eyes just at the thought of it.
She couldn’t bear it.
But there was absolutely nothing she could do without bringing down ruin on herself, on the Count D’Asti, on Eliza, and on all of the Duke of Thistlewayte’s daughters, as well. They had become her friends, and Susan could not bear to do that to them.
* * *
Neville took a half-step forward,and an uneasy, prickling sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He got the distinct sensation that he was being watched, and not by his friend, either.
Hearing just the slightest rustle among the shelves, Neville started to move towards them. He caught a flash of strawberry blonde hair in his peripheral vision, and time seemed to move oddly for a moment as things clicked into place in his brain.
He was, it seemed, quite alone in the library with none other than Lady Henrietta, who appeared to be throwing herself at him, for a reason which he, for a moment, could not even begin to fathom. Then, realisation set in.
The door handle rattled behind them and the door to the library started to creak open. If someone opened the door and saw Lady Henrietta embracing him, Neville would have no choice but to marry her. It would be the only honourable thing to do. And no doubt, she was counting on just that.
Luckily for Neville, he was in good shape, because he enjoyed sport and he was faster than Lady Henrietta had accounted for. Neville dodged away from Lady Henrietta’s outstretched, grasping arms, and sprinted to the terrace door on the other side of the library. He was through that door in mere seconds, sending up his thanks to heaven that it wasn’t locked, and even as it clicked shut after him, he set off along the terrace, attempting to look completely nonchalantly calm.
Behind him, sounds reached him faintly through the terrace door as it closed, of hurried footsteps, and a cut off exclamation.
“Aha—”
It was Lady Middlebrook’s voice behind him, but Neville did not remain to hear what she might have tried to claim. He was well and truly out of the room and already crossing the terrace and he had no intention of stopping until he had re-entered the house through another door.
He dragged deep, shaking breaths of the piercingly cold night air into his lungs and shook his head, trying to clear it. Where on earth was Billington? Neville hurried back into the ballroom through the doors which opened onto the terrace, and made his way, as fast as politeness allowed, to Lady Billington. Perhaps she could clear things up as to his best friend’s whereabouts.
Lady Billington greeted Neville with a bright smile and a curtsey.
“Lord Seabury, how delightful to see you. We have not had the pleasure of your company in quite some time.”
Neville forced a polite smile and nodded.
“I hate to seem abrupt, Lady Billington, but where is your husband? He sent me this note asking me to meet him in the library because he had something to share with me about the— well, never mind. It does not matter who it was about. What matters is that I speak with Billington immediately.”
Lady Billington frowned, shaking her head.
“But… Edward can’t have sent you a note asking you to meet him in the library, Lord Seabury. He is away in Brighton, and has been for several days. If he had returned, I would know it.”
Neville went deathly still and crumpled the note, which he had pulled from his pocket, in case he should need to show it to her, in his fist.
“Dear God.” The words came out in a strangled whisper. He couldn’t even stand to voice what had just occurred aloud. He had come so close to being trapped, to having no choice but to marry Lady Henrietta. He’d been so convinced that she was harmless, that her parents were just nosy neighbours who did not quite comprehend polite boundaries, but now? “I… see. Thank you, Lady Billington.”
Neville shook his head and thrust the crumpled note back into the inside pocket of his jacket. And if Lord and Lady Middlebrook or Lady Henrietta approached him again after what had just occurred at this Ball? Well… there would be a reckoning, and the hastily scribbled note would be his evidence.
I shall have to be so careful around them from now on. I do not want to make a scene and publicly shame them, but I cannot give Lady Henrietta and her mother any more opportunities to trap me. Next time, I might not be so lucky.
* * *
