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Chapter Fourteen
Ezralookedovertheballroom. When he’d left Bridgecross Manor, he’d asked after Grace and her parents, none of whom where in the entryway ready to depart with the rest of them. Lady Augusta had informed him that they only needed a few more minutes and would follow behind shortly.
That had been nearly two hours ago, and though he stayed near the ballroom door so as not to miss any newcomer, he’d yet to see any of the Stewarts. It was uncharacteristically rude of him, but he’d yet to stand up with anyone so far. He didn’t dare step away from his post. No doubt, the moment he did would be the moment Grace would decide to arrive, and he would miss her.
First Frances, then Lady Katherine, then his sister once more had tried to persuade him to dance or get some mulled cider, or even step outside to accompany them as they cooled themselves for a moment. But he’d refused each time. He needed to talk to Grace. At the very least he needed to ascertain if she’d given up on him for good. If not, then he would wait as long as she needed, though he couldn’t exactly promise not to continue pleading his case.
If she had...well, then he still couldn’t promise he wouldn’t stay nearby and plead his case.
Devil take him, but he was a hopeless cause.
She stepped into the room.
Ezra drew himself up, instantly stepping toward her. She was resplendent in a soft rose-colored dress. Her hair was piled atop her head with several curls framing her face. She turned his way as he drew near.
For all her beauty, her smile was still forced. No matter what she wore or how her hair was done, nothing could replace the joy that used to shine through every time she looked at him. Heaven help him, what he wouldn’t give to see that joy again.
“Good evening, Mr. Stewart, Mrs. Stewart.” He turned toward Grace fully. “Miss Stewart.”
They all bowed, and her parents bid him good evening.
“It is rather warm in here, isn’t it?” Grace asked. Even her words were flat and quite unlike the cheerful tones he had grown used to hearing from her.
“Yes,” he hurried to say. “Would you join me in a turn about the back of the room? The doors are cracked open there, and it is a bit cooler.”
Her parents allowed Grace to leave on his arm. They circled about the ballroom, keeping close to the wall. Her hand was stiff against his arm, much as it had been ever since he had told her the truth.
Finally, they reached the back of the room. A trickle of winter air slipped in through a window cracked slightly open. Grace let go of him and folded her arms, facing the door completely. Her reflection against the glass told him she wasn’t smiling.
“You have very elegant handwriting,” she said softly enough that only he would hear.
Ezra chuckled softly. Relief that she was willing to talk to him about this eased some of the weight pressing against his chest. “Of all the compliments I’ve ever been given in a ballroom, I can’t say that is one of them.”
The tips of Grace’s lips pulled up somewhat. “I don’t suppose it would have been.”
Ezra shifted his weight. “Did you read my last letter then?”
“No.”
Instantly, all the relief he’d felt before vanished.
Grace turned and faced him, holding out the small bit of white foolscap he’d slipped beneath her door earlier that day. “I’m tired of letters, Ezra. If you have something to say, I need to you say it to me directly.”
He couldn’t deny that Grace had a point. Ezra reached out and took the unread letter, slipping it back in his pocket before anyone might see.
“Letters are what started this between us,” he said by way of explanation. “I was hoping it might be letters that could bring us back together once more.”
Grace shook her head. “We cannot solve a problem by continuing in the same manner that caused it originally.”
Ezra smiled softly. “Well said.” He glanced over his shoulder at the swirling couples in the center of the ballroom. “This isn’t exactly the place for a private conversation.”
“The corridor just outside?” she offered.
Ezra moved closer, close enough to smell the rose water on her, and placed a hand at the small of her back as he gently led her through a set of double doors on the far side of the ballroom. The corridor was far less packed with people. With a quick glance around to make sure they wouldn’t be seen, they slipped down an adjoining hallway and away from the bustle and crowd.
Once they were apart from all the others, Ezra felt himself ease. “Is this better?”
Grace had her face tipped upward as she studied him closely. “You truly do not like crowds, do you?”
