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Ah, there. The tiny golden flecked floated into her brown irises, and the mystery of them made him dive ever deeper into her eyes that had darkened ever so slightly. Was she thinking along the same lines as he? Would that he could lose himself there for the night and forget about the task of winning her, for in those pools he would find everything he’d ever wanted.
“I’m glad you decided to come tonight,” Bartholomew said merely because he wanted to hear her voice. “I… I missed you yesterday. So did Luke.”
“I had good reason to stay away.”
“When I offered to buy your business, I didn’t mean to strip away all hope for the future. Quite the opposite.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t give me a clue, did you?” she hissed even though she still wore a smile.
Oh, she was a spitfire, all right, and just the woman to keep the flame burning in a relationship. “I thought it would surprise you.”
“So you did, but then, you’ve always been an irritating man, even from the first.”
He snorted. God, how much did he adore her? “Perhaps. However, you couldn’t help but notice me, correct? Between you and Luke, life hasn’t been dull.”
“No, I suppose not.” The look on her face softened. “Luke will grow to be an incredible young man with your guidance.” She peered into his eyes, and it was as if she searched his soul for answers. He hoped to heaven she found them in him. “You’ll give him everything he needs to excel.” It wasn’t a question.
“I shall try my level best.” The fact she’d gone out of her way to bond with the boy left him at sixes and sevens, but there had been genuine affection in her exchange with him earlier on the stairs when they’d spoken of hopes and dreams. “He’ll need more than me in his life, though.”
A faint blush stained her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to the knot of his cravat. “He has your mother. She’ll nag at him until he does the right thing.”
“I meant someone other than her.” A tendril of cold panic twisted up his spine, for the waltz was nearing an end. For that matter, so was the ball. The invitations had said from eight o’clock to eleven o’clock to allow the guests to depart for church services if they wished it, for this wasn’t a ton affair that would last into the wee hours of the morning. “Felicity, will you allow me the opportunity to talk privately with you sometime tonight?”
“I’m not certain that’s a good idea.”
The final notes of the song were struck. Every couple on the modified dance floor came to a stop. Polite clapping filled the room. Bartholomew was forced to release Felicity, for it would be the height of scandal to stake his claim right here in front of society without knowing how she felt about him. And in the event she cared not, he didn’t wish to cause a scene wherein he’d be put front and center. “Please. Indulge me this one last time. I wish to make things right between us.”
Need warred with annoyance in her eyes. “If I told you now that I forgive you, that I know you were only doing what you felt was best, will you let me go?”
Did she mean quit the ball or leave the household forever? Either way, his answer was no. Suddenly, he couldn’t contemplate a future without her at his side, leading, guiding him in that gentle way she had, teaching him there were things in life he didn’t know.
“Is that what you want, Felicity?” he asked in a barely audible voice as he led her to the side of the room and toward the drawing room doorway. “To run away, frightened? To have your heart shuttered to change while knowing you have a connection with me?” When she didn’t answer, he plunged forward, for he was a desperate man. “Would you toss away a shot at love because of your stubborn pride and my foolish foible?” His heart pounded as he awaited her answer.
“Love?” Her kissable lips formed a perfect “o” of shock. “You love me?”
“I rather think that I do.” Bartholomew couldn’t help his grin. “Will you hear me out?” Confliction raged in her expression, so he tugged on her hand until they’d exited the room. Already, the crowds had thinned. No doubt weary couples had already departed for the comfort of their own homes and hearths. “Give me the chance to say what I ought then you can make a decision.”
However, she wasn’t given an opportunity to answer him, for various guests sought out his company to wish him a happy Christmas or to tell him goodbye. In lieu of his mother being in attendance, he had to do the pretty, and with each passing minute was he in danger of losing Felicity?
Yet she remained in his vicinity, acting as his partner, and receiving felicitations as well as her own goodbyes and holiday greetings as if they were a couple and this had been their event. Bartholomew rather enjoyed presenting a united front to these people. His chest swelled with pride at how poised and polite she was, to say nothing of the stunning picture she made. That damned crimson gown had drawn the notice of more than a few men—married or not—and it was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away from those all-too-interested eyes that swept over her tempting décolletage.
By the time the longcase clock had struck the eleventh hour and the last guest had been sent off into the December chill, every nerve ending in his body strained to finally state his case to the woman he was growing to love with each passing moment. The musicians departed, and the butler approached.
“You’ve done a fine job of it, Rawley,” Bartholomew said, hoping the anticipation sailing through his veins didn’t show on his face. “You and the staff will have ample time to attend church services if you’d like.”
“But the house requires tidying, Captain Grayson,” the butler protested with an elevated, graying eyebrow.
“Of course it does. The work will keep. Ushering in this most holy of nights is the more important task at hand, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed, but Mrs. Grayson will—”
“Will, no doubt, agree with me. Besides, I’ll assist, so it’ll go all that quicker.” He made a shooing motion with his hands while Felicity looked on with a faint smile of amusement. “Gather the staff and go with good tidings, man. We shan’t have need of your services until late in the morning tomorrow.”
Rawley’s grin was its own reward. “Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate it. You’ll put out the candles downstairs?”
“I will indeed. Enjoy the evening and give my best to your family. My mother has gifts for you and the staff to have with your dinner tomorrow evening.” He grinned at Felicity. “If you’ll help extinguish the lamps and candles, we can arrive at our conversation all the faster.”
“Are you quite well, Bartholomew? You’re acting oddly.” Speculation lingered in her expression as she joined him in extinguishing all illumination.
