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Nora had all but forgotten her presence. In fact, she’d all but forgotten that they were at a ball. It had seemed that just she and Kendal existed. How absurdly delightful.
Lord Satterfield joined them. “Kendal, this is a shock. Are you trying to set the ton on its ear?” He grinned at his stepson before turning to his wife. “Shall we go in to supper?”
“Indeed.” Kendal presented his arm to Nora, and they preceded the Satterfields to the dining room, where a lavish table was set. Nora had never seen such a display. The sheer quantity of dishes, silver, and glasses was enough to make her head swim.
She tipped her head toward Kendal. “What a staggering amount of crockery.”
She kept her voice low, preferring their conversation to be as private as possible. She could feel the eyes of the room staring at them, could hear the questions and comments the guests were striving to keep quiet. She preferred to pretend that she and Kendal were alone in the garden at the Satterfields’. Or anywhere else, really.
He guided her to a chair next to Lady Satterfield. “I can’t imagine supporting an event of this size. My stepmother’s annual ball is quite daunting enough.” He situated Nora in the chair, and then his touch was gone, leaving her cold.
Lady Satterfield looked at Nora and then her stepson. “It isn’t so different. Of course, I don’t have the space or retainers to carry off a ball of this proportion. But if I did, I would.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Nora, when you are wed, you may find yourself the hostess of a ball like this.”
Nora had dreamed of such a thing in the early years following her ruin, but had never imagined it would come true. Even now, sitting amongst the ton’s most elite—the Untouchables—and enjoying a level of acceptance she’d never imagined, she couldn’t quite believe it was possible. Furthermore, now that it was, she wasn’t at all certain that was what she wanted.
Kendal indicated the footman should pour him some claret. He turned to Nora. “Claret or Madeira?”
She looked at the footman. “Madeira, please.”
A woman seated on the other side of Kendal spoke. “Kendal, it is such a boon to find you here this evening. You seem to be quite the man about town this Season.”
Nora hadn’t ever seen him converse with people. On the occasions she’d seen him publicly—at Lady Satterfield’s ball and the picnic—he’d spoken only with his stepparents and Nora. She waited to see what he would do.
He turned his head toward the woman, and Nora would’ve traded her pin money to see his expression. She strained to hear what he would say.
“Yes.”
The single word seemed to convey a wealth of meaning, the most important of which was,Don’t speak to me again.
Or so it seemed.
He turned his head toward Nora. “Have you enjoyed the ball?”
“Yes, thank you.” She darted a look across the table and saw that people, as expected, were watching them. She did her best to ignore them and wondered how Kendal did it. He seemed utterly immune to those around him. “How do you do it?” she whispered.
“What?” It wasn’t quite a whisper, but the word was soft, and the bass tone made her shiver.
“Shut them all out,” she said.
“Ah. That, I think, is a conversation for another time.” He barely smiled. “But I promise we shall have it.”
Lady Satterfield took over the bulk of the conversation while they ate supper. As the meal drew to a close, she peered around Nora. “Kendal, will you be staying?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been here long enough, don’t you think?” The elevation of his eyebrow lent a note of humor to his question.
His stepmother chuckled. “Indeed. It’s a shame you can’t dance with Nora, but I daresay she doesn’t require your assistance any longer.”
There it was. Nora had long suspected Kendal was only showing interest in her because Lady Satterfield had asked him to, and now she knew it was true. Why, then, had he kissed her? She dashed a glance at him, feeling suddenly unsettled.
Everyone began to stand from the table. Kendal helped Nora from her chair and led her from the dining room. Back in the ballroom, he kissed her hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Lockhart. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I shall.” But not nearly so much as the past hour. Until she’d begun to feel like an obligation. Or a favor the Forbidden Duke was doing for his beloved stepmother.
As she watched him retreat from the ballroom, a part of her protested. Perhaps his interest had started that way, but she didn’t think she’d misunderstood his ardor when they’d kissed or the humor they’d shared in conversation or the promise he’d just made her at dinner. No, he didn’t seem indifferent. But neither did that mean he wanted anything more than to help her on her way to success.
She danced with several more gentlemen, but with each one, she imagined green eyes and a seductive smile. By the time she climbed into the coach with Lady Satterfield, she was exhausted.
“How do people survive an entire Season of such entertainment?” Nora asked. She’d surely have to sleep the day away tomorrow, but likely wouldn’t. She rose early in the country, and had not yet broken that habit.
