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Esther hurried away, to be comforted in the arms of theton’s nobles.And she still hadn’t guessed that Matthew was her husband’s half-brother.
Matthew went across the hall and slowly opened Isaac’s door.Isaac sat upright on a hardback chair, waiting for his friend.Matthew squatted in front of him and took one of his hands.
“You didn’t make a mistake.The lady shouldn’t have been in my room.Do you want Raleigh to bring up some biscuits later?And tomorrow, I promise, we’ll play some cards and I’ll tell you all about the ball.”
Isaac nodded and gave Matthew a lopsided smile.“I don’t need anything else tonight,” Matthew added.
Isaac made a gesture indicating drink.
“Ah, yes.Mrs.Hardy made a very delicious pineapple drink with a little vodka.Do you think you can handle it, or will I find you drunk on the floor later?”
Isaac slapped his leg and grunted happily.
Matthew departed, thinking as he closed the door,this is why I don’t enjoy having people in my house.
* * * * *
Cold realization struckRose: she didn’t know Matthew at all, and she wasn’t sure she liked him much.
Esther hurried by Rose’s dark, open doorway, where Rose stood unseen.A few minutes later, Matthew departed from Isaac’s room, then he walked down the hall, intending to return to the ball.Her legs were shaking, and she wasn’t sure she would find the words to say, but she did step forward so he could see her.And understand that she had heard it all.
When he saw her, his gaze didn’t waver.Daring her, she supposed.He stopped in front of her, with his hands behind his back.
“May I have some of your time in the morning, Mr.Hardy?”she asked.
“Not tonight?”
“I have over four-hundred guests in your ballroom, trying to demonstrate that the Hardys are fine, upstanding people who are part of an exclusivetoncrowd and worthy of knowing.I wish to keep that illusion alive for a few more hours.”
Dear Lord, she’d been so wrong about him.It wasn’t Welliver himself who Matthew was avoiding.It was his wife!A woman Matthew had purposefully compromised.
Rose pushed around him and headed to the top of the stairs.Just then, Raleigh was tripping up the steps.“Oh, Mrs.Hardy, Mr.Hardy!The king’s entourage is at the end of the lane!”
She ignored Matthew behind her as they headed to the front door.“Announce that the fireworks will begin to those still in the ballroom.And bring me a glass of whisky,” she said.
It wasn’t difficult at all to forget about Mr.Hardy’s revelations.She poured herself into the ball.The lords and ladies bowing to the king, the round of fireworks that started as he descended the carriage and the larger and louder group of entertaining explosives when all eyes were looking upward.She felt Matthew beside her but didn’t acknowledge him.Her smile was painted on and would remain that way for the rest of the evening.The servants, with their trays and drinks, mingled through the crowd, filling every empty hand.The ballroom windows had been flung wide and the sound of the orchestra wafted outdoors adding to the cacophony.
The king had his favorites, and they were all at the ball, so it was no hardship to let them sweep him off to the card room.Matthew went along, the Duke of Pelham again at his side.Of all the nobles, Pelham could empathize with Matthew—himself having a commoner wife.
Rose squelched a moment of jealousy, wishing she could take a place at the gaming tables and forget the calamitous news she’d just overheard.Or better remind the nobles at the table that she could defeat them handily at a few hands ofvingt-et-un.Some gambling, some drink, she could forget what had happened for a short time.
More dances, more food and drink, more questions from the servants, more praise for what a magnificent production tonight was then the slow, inevitable departure of the masses.
A few whispered their congratulations, but the wishes felt especially bitter and painfully meaningless after Matthew’s shocking admissions.
A tipped over chair here, a lost feather there.An earbob.A half-eaten piece of shortbread.Festoons that had become untied.A drunken slur and a rudely placed hand.And just as quickly as she noticed those things, servants swooped in to fix or clean.Or a footman was sent to disrupt the application of those loose hands.
A few ladies were sitting in the drawing room, waving their fans and talking about the night, now early morning.Their husbands were still playing cards and depending on who was losing, it could be over in a few minutes or a few hours.The king had departed an hour ago—all else was now anti-climactic.
Abigail was one of those women, so Rose waved to a footman to bring her a chair.The orchestra had stopped playing about an hour ago also and the hall had quieted.A buffet breakfast was being set up in the back drawing room, overlooking the gardens where the sun would reflect over the flowers.There were less than fifty people to feed at this point but stay they would and enjoy every last morsel or entertainment.
“Are you exhausted?”Abigail asked, taking Rose’s hand as she sat.
“More than you know.”Exhaustion wasn’t really the right word.Numb and wounded, yes.She understood all along Matthew wasn’t exactly refined.But she did believe he was fair and honest.
“Mother used to love this sort of party, but I prefer the sit-down dinner when one can be assured everyone goes home or on to another party by eleven.”
“I think you have the right idea.”Rose loved parties.She loved planning them and receiving the adulation that went with a successful affair, but the idea of another such event at Highwood left her apathetic and weary.
