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She did not look entirely convinced but smiled anyway. “Thank you, Thea.”
“Can we go this afternoon?”
“Tonight we have the Huttons’ ball. We can go tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I repeated. I would meet my father’s paramour and finally receive some answers.
* * *
The first ball of the Season was upon us, and Hannah had gone to great lengths to ensure I looked worthy of my first London social event. She had curled my hair and arranged it against a rose pink ribbon that perfectly matched my gown. I had witnessed many balls and parties and had attended a great deal of assemblies since I turned seventeen, but I had been assured time and again that balls in Town were different. They were special.
I was eager to see how they compared to the lavish balls I’d snuck from my room to watch through the banister slats in Sweden. I had a hunch they would not be quite the same.
Hannah placed my pearl ear drops in my hand and left me to put them on in silence. They were my mother’s, and it was with a pang that I slipped them on and admired my reflection in the mirror. My eyes closed to block the image of my hair up and the pink dress on. Mother had always loved me in pink, and she would have chosen it herself were she here.
We were so alike that it frightened me.
I shook the feelings away and wiped the moisture from my eyes. I intended to make the most of my time in London, with or without a love match by the end of it. Though it was plainly obvious I wouldn’t find a husband. I spun Mother’s ring on my finger and shoved away the memories of her alone, waiting for Father, then giving up and finding company elsewhere. It was a history I refused to repeat. I wanted to marry for love, and until I found a way to scrape every last remnant of Benedict from my heart, it would not be open to another man.
Until then, though, I could still take pleasure in the dancing.
The house Felicity and James had rented for the Season was comfortable but small. I left my room to the sound of another door closing at the end of the short corridor. Benedict paused, his hand on the knob. His inky black coat was stark against his bronze waistcoat and ivory cravat. He struck a figure that was both slender and powerful, and I swallowed down the sigh of appreciation that threatened to bubble from my lips.
“Good evening,” he murmured, adjusting his cuff as he crossed the corridor toward me. The personal act of adjusting his sleeve was so ordinary a task that it leant a sense of intimacy to finding him in the narrow, dim corridor.
“Are you looking forward to the ball? We both know how deeply you enjoy dancing.”
“I will enjoy it if I can claim a set from you.”
I wanted to agree, badly, but it was unwise. If I allowed Benedict to be so handsome toward me, to touch me, I would never stop loving him. I cleared my throat. “I think my dances will be taken up by eligible gentlemen who are vying for the opportunity to court me.” I gave him a flippant smile to match my facetious words, hoping they sounded more playful than cutting.
“That is precisely what I fear.” His earnest tone made my stomach drop.
I doubled the defenses around my heart and gentled my voice. “We are not going to be together, Benedict. You must accept that.”
“I do not have to accept anything I do not agree with. I told you I would prove myself, and I intend to do just that.”
How unfair. It was not as though I had pushed him away out of spite. It was only days ago I had watched Mrs. Rossi hang on his arm possessively, and he had done nothing to indicate her attention was unwelcome. Neither James nor Henry acted in this manner around women, so Benedict shouldn’t believe his lack of boundaries to be acceptable.
If that was Benedict proving himself, then he was only proving my fears to be valid.
I lifted my chin. “In the meantime, I will dance with kind gentlemen who do not reuse their compliments for every woman in their arms.”
“You will make them all fall in love with you, too,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “Which is a special sort of torture when none of them will be able to have you.”
“No one will be falling in love with me tonight, Benedict.”
He stepped forward, his eyes dark and glittering. “One man already has.”
My breath caught, and I hurried to cover the sound, all the while my pulse beat furiously. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“How else am I to fight for you?”
“It is a fruitless battle. I do not know how many times I must say so.”
“Because I am exactly like your father?”
“Yes.” And, worse, because I was exactly like my mother. “We would not be good for one another.”
