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“We’ll have to keep an eye on him for the rest of the weekend,” Michael suggested. “If he does it again, then we send him away and never allow him back.”
“Agreed.”
He glanced one last time towards the garden. He could see Lucy sitting on a bench, looking away from them. He wondered if he should go and talk to her. He decided that she had likely gone out there to be alone.
He left her where she was, returning to the rest of the party. He planned to keep a better eye on Percy. He hadn’t trusted him before, and he was only being proven right.
***
After supper, Lucy and Aunt Joan retired to their rooms. Since the ball had gone on until late the previous night, everyone was having an early evening. The next night, would bring more planned festivities. It would just keep going on—a constant whirl of activities designed so that they were all thrown together for almost every hour of the day, and then late into the night.
Lucy had been silent throughout dinner. She was attempting to remain the mistress of her own emotions. After her encounter with Mr Stalton in the maze, she was shaken.
What would have happened, if Silas hadn’t shown up? she thought wretchedly. It had been a close call. She had thought herself safe, but then found that she might not have been.
It left her feeling more upset. She was tired. She wasn’t used to being so often in the company of so many other people. Without much chance for rest, she felt worn very thin.
At dinner, Mr Stalton had tried, constantly, to catch her gaze. Lucy had avoided it, her stomach turning at the thought that he believed her to be interested in him.
She sank down onto the bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the vanity, which sat beside the armoire. Her skin looked pale, with dark circles underneath her eyes. She felt sick to her stomach.
There was a knock on the door that led to Aunt Joan’s room.
“Come in, Aunt Joan.”
Her aunt entered. “I just came to see how you’re doing. What a wonderful day this has been!”
There was a painful lump in the back of Lucy’s throat. She could tell that her eyes were watery with tears as her aunt began to blur. She nodded.
“Yes, I suppose it has,” she said, with an utter lack of conviction.
“Lucy?” Aunt Joan asked as she closed the door after her. “Is something the matter?” She pressed her cool fingers to Lucy’s forehead, as if to see if she was becoming ill.
“I feel so horribly homesick, Aunt Joan,” Lucy said. “I was wondering if we might leave early.” She was trying not to cry, swallowing the painful lump in her throat that had been there since she had followed Silas and Mr Stalton out of the maze.
“But why? The party won’t be over for another two days,” Aunt Joan said. Lucy felt guilty. She knew that her aunt was having a good time. She could never tell her aunt about what had happened between her and Silas. She would never understand that Lucy couldn’t marry him.
“I just thought that… perhaps it had been enough.”
“We cannot miss the concert tomorrow evening, or the final ball,” Aunt Joan stated, horrified. “Every rich noble from the surrounding countryside is going to be in attendance. You haven’t worn your new muslin yet, and you look as pretty as a picture in it. We simply cannot miss it.”
The thought of another two days of trying to avoid Silas, in addition to Mr Stalton, who made her skin crawl, was too much for her. To her own credit, Lucy burst into tears.
“Oh, my dear!” Aunt Joan sat down on the bed next to her, putting her arm around her. “I had no idea you were so sad. Did something happen?” She rubbed Lucy’s back in circles, as she had when Lucy was young.
“I just… I’m so overwhelmed,” she sobbed. “I can’t do it anymore.”
She was talking about Silas, but Aunt Joan thought she meant the party.
“I know that we aren’t often among society,” Aunt Joan allowed. “I should have known that it would be too much for you.” She continued to rub Lucy’s back. “I was so wrapped up in all of the festivities that I didn’t see how you were suffering, my dear. Can you ever forgive me?”
Lucy nodded, sniffling. “Of course.” She accepted the handkerchief that Aunt Joan handed her and began to dab at her eyes.
“I tell you what,” Aunt Joan soothed, “we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, Aunt Joan.”
“There, there, my sweetling. I’ll go and talk with the butler about arranging for a carriage to take us home.”
“Thank you, Aunt Joan.”
Her aunt’s cool fingers touched her chin. Her brown eyes, so similar to Lucy’s own, stared at Lucy kindly. The only person who knew exactly how to calm her was her aunt.
“Not to worry. We’ll be home before you know it.”
With that, Aunt Joan got up and left the room, and Lucy breathed out a sigh of relief. She stared down at the monogrammed handkerchief in her hand. Aunt Joan’s initials were inscribed in blue, with a delicate design of wildflowers beneath it.
Once Lucy was away from Silas, she knew that she could begin to forget him. Another day or two in his company, and she worried she might be in too deep. Extricating herself before it went any further was the only way to keep her heart intact.
