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“I’m not certain. That state varies day by day.”
“Don’t play with her heart if you’re not sure of your own. That’s not fair to either of you.” Though she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes, which remained slightly haunted and tinged with sadness.
Fair enough, and he would ignore her insights until he had the opportunity to think them through. “Why are you struggling with the blue devils currently?” His gaze alighted on her daughter, who flitted through the room clad in a white dress with a bright red satin sash as if all the world was her stage. “Lucy certainly seems content enough.”
“That’s because I’ve let her stay up past her bedtime to watch some of the dancing.” Letty chuckled as she, too, found Lucy with her gaze. “I don’t wish for her to grow up too fast.”
“It’s a reasonable concern.” If Lucy was in attendance, did that mean Lynette had given the same privilege to John? For the moment, he couldn’t locate either of them. “However, you haven’t answered my question, and I do worry about you even through my own mess.”
“You’re a good man.” Letty laid a hand on his sleeve.
“On that, I might disagree.” He gave her a charming smile. “Isn’t this your favorite time of the year? To me, you never seemed as animated as at Christmastide.”
“It used to be, long ago, and perhaps I’m still grieving for my husband. It feels as if my heart carries a permanent bruise, something that will never heal.” The forlorn tone of her voice tugged at his chest.
“I understand that, but you deserve to find happiness again, to immerse yourself in romance—in life—if that’s what you wish.” He patted her hand. “Don’t leave it until you’re as old as me.”
“I’m not sure I do wish for love again. I had that once, and asking for a second helping seems much like gluttony.” She pressed her lips together and her chin quivered. “Losing everything one holds dear exhausts a person. I’m not sure I have the strength to love another and potentially have them slip through my fingers.”
“But isn’t that the risk we all take on a great many things?” he asked in a soft voice. “Isn’t that the whole point of living?”
Her smile was a watery affair. “My, you have grown and matured, even while you and I have struck up this conversation.” She patted his cheek. “Yes, it is, but I’ve found I’m quite a coward in that regard.” With a shuddering sigh, she composed herself. “However, I have Lucy, and perhaps that’s enough.”
“Ah, Letty. You poor thing.” Briefly he engulfed her in a hug. His heart ached for her. “I worry about you. Most of the year you keep yourself wrapped up in your duties as headmistress with all those ton young ladies. You need to find adventure, let yourself live past rules and manners and proper things.”
She uttered an unladylike snort. “At times I think you’re right but imagine the scandal if my girls ever saw me indulging.”
“Now who’s speaking gammon?” Stephen scoffed. “Those girls and their holier than thou parents can go hang. You are allowed to have an existence outside of the school, and in your own right.”
“Hush.” She playfully shoved at his shoulder. “If I promise to think about it, will you stop worrying?”
“Perhaps.” Once more, he scanned the dance floor. The reel had come to an end, and from the looks of things, the orchestra was preparing to play a waltz as their next set. A man caught his eye, mostly due to the flash of his turquoise waistcoat. “I’ll be damned. Isn’t that Baron Henshaw?”
“I hardly think so.” Letty frowned but followed his line of sight. “The baron died recently.”
“Ah, then that must be his son. His name escapes me now.”
Curiosity lit her eyes for a second, gone at her next blink. “That’s Courtland Beckwith. Perhaps he’s decided to spend Christmastide at Beckwith Trace, which is odd, for he should be grieving. He’s still in the mourning period.”
Stephen tapped his chin with a finger. “Interesting. I vaguely remember him from years ago.”
“I’ve heard he’s made a good name for himself in London,” she said in a low voice. Was that interest warming her tones? Perhaps it was worth investigation. When she again pushed at his shoulder, Stephen’s thoughts scattered. “Go mingle. I’m sure you’re anxious to dance. You used to enjoy it so.”
“I still do.” He caught her hand as a feeling of deviltry swirled about him. “Come dance the first waltz with me. It might convince you that fun isn’t a bad thing.” With a waggle of his eyebrows, he pulled her toward the dance floor. “It might even nudge you to scandal.”
“You’re incorrigible.” But she gave in. “As long as you promise to dance with Lucy before I send her up to bed. She’s rather enamored of you, and you’ve neglected her since you’ve begun giving John most of your attention.”
Guilt stabbed through his gut. “I have, haven’t I?” When she nodded and they found an empty spot on the polished marble floor, he sighed. “Forgive me. It’s rather new to me, this balancing everything.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Just remember that Lucy came into your life first.”
“I will and thank you for the reminder.” He put a hand to the small of Letty’s back as they both assumed the position for the waltz. What wouldn’t he do for his niece? Just when the dance began and he guided his sister into the first steps, he sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe, how to think, for Lynette had finally made an appearance into the ballroom.
Good Lord, she’s magnificent!
The wine-colored gown she wore was cheerful enough with its simple adornments, but with a delicate overskirt of lace that glittered with each movement, she was a vision. She wore her dark brown hair piled on her head, and the combs resting in those tresses gleamed beneath the candlelight in the chandelier. No jewels sparkled at her neck, wrists, or fingers, but she didn’t need them, for she shone with a light of her own.
“Breathe, Stephen, lest you expire right here,” Letty cautioned with a fair amount of amusement in her voice.
