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Chapter 13
“I can’t imagine finding any sort of excitement for such a thing,” Jeffrey recited to Peter, his brow furrowed. “I’m in the midst of my own investigation. I have endless troubles sleeping. And now, you suggest that I—what now?”
“Attend a ball,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I think you’ve fallen into the darkness. You’ve hardly spoken at all since my arrival an hour before. In fact, you’ve spent a great deal of this hour staring in the distance and muttering to yourself.”
“You’re suggesting I’ve gone mad,” Jeffrey said.
“No. Only that you have a good chance of doing just that if you don’t leave this estate and socialize,” Peter said. “My wife and I will attend a ball this weekend. I do want you to find a sort of friendship with her if you can muster it.”
Jeffrey yearned to articulate just how little he cared for any sort of friendship with anyone beyond him. He felt as though people now cratered his minutes, wasted his time. He had to strive forward, finalize what he’d returned to the county to do.
“Come, now, Jeffrey,” Peter said. His eyes twinkled as he added, “I imagine that Charlotte will be around. She ordinarily attends such functions. And—if it isn’t too much to say—she always wears the most delightful gowns.”
Jeffrey heaved a sigh and rose from his garden chair. He turned to blink at the mansion, his hands on his hips. Throughout the previous days, the house had risen almost fully to its former glory. Even now, several newly-hired staff members gardened the rose garden, trimming the dead buds from the stalks and collecting them. He hadn’t lived in such splendour in years. He puffed out his chest, enjoying the feeling.
Was it really outside the bounds of reason that he enjoy himself every once in a while?
After all, he couldn’t do anything at all for his investigation at night, as the rest of the county danced and drank and laughed beneath the glittering light of a chandelier.
“You’re considering it. Aren’t you?” Peter said mischievously.
“Perhaps I am. But it’s not because of you,” Jeffrey said with a smirk.
“I would have never assumed so. As I said already, Charlotte will be there. I know that’s enough to drag you out of this house.”
**
That weekend, Jeffrey donned one of his finer suits, tousled his dark curls, and stretched a leg over the saddle of his jet-black horse. He clopped across the moors towards the sight of the Baron’s estate, the site of the ball.
Several hundred people were in attendance. Jeffrey admired them as they approached: the women’s gowns catching the orange light of the dying sunset; the men dropping their heads low to hear the light, musical voices of the women on their arms. Jeffrey’s heart jumped into his throat. For a moment, he staggered with jealousy.
He’d never ached for the companionship of a woman in this way.
Something had switched in his mind.
He would have never admitted that Charlotte’s appearance in his life had had something to do with it.
Jeffrey entered the ball. He felt a bit invisible, as though everyone’s association with their friends and lovers and his lack of companion made him unable to be seen. He hustled towards the drink table and collected a glass of berry wine, then turned to gaze out at the gorgeous scene. After his years away from society, he felt himself a bit of a romantic for the sights and splendorous sounds. The orchestra quivered into another lovely song, one that caught couples out on the dance floor.
Their feet peppered through the steps without pause. These were the dances that Jeffrey had learned long-ago—the dances his brother had detested, as he’d said they were entirely too painful and annoying to perform. Albert had teased Jeffrey about his appreciation for the dances. “Girls will just adore you, you know,” Albert had said with a saucy smile. “It’s almost as though you were born to court.”
Jeffrey had rather liked this about himself—the fact that he was generally “up for” the various elements of social life in ways that his darker-souled older brother hadn’t been. It was one of their more significant differences.
Gosh. He missed Albert so desperately.
He missed his parents, as well. They’d died all too soon after Albert—forcing Jeffrey to live a life of loneliness and despair.
If only he could have told himself this when he’d been a younger man.One day, everyone you love the most will be dead. Love them as hard as you can. Appreciate every moment.
Ah, but these were the things life forced on you. You were never allowed to appreciate anything as it happened. Jeffrey was old enough to know this.
As Jeffrey stood, reminiscing and sipping wine, a pair of eyes caught his attention towards the yonder side of the ballroom. His heart stopped as he recognized them.
They belonged to Charlotte Stanton.
He’d grown accustomed, these days, to those eyes peering at him. After all, when he’d spotted her at the fabric store once more several days before, he’d felt as though they were akin to weapons—forcing him to stop his walk and peer back. He’d felt, at that moment, as though they were the only two creatures on the planet. His heart had beat only for her.
As Charlotte peered at him across the ballroom, he nodded towards her—a greeting meant not to scare her. She didn’t nod back. Immediately after, Louisa appeared beside her and whispered something in her ear. Charlotte’s attention was taken. Jeffrey stewed in this realization. Had he lost her for good?
