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Chapter Thirteen
“Are you sure you do not wish to come?” Sophie asked from the doorway of her drawing room.
James looked up from where he’d been stacking blocks with his nephews and smiled. “I’d rather not attempt it. Besides, I think it’d be best for you and Amberwood if I wasn’t around.” Their mother’s scandal had hit the Ton with force. A week on, and his family was still the talk of the town. Sophie, at least, was somewhat shielded by her title, but James would rather not have any extra scrutiny be passed to her and Amberwood. It was bad enough that he’d been staying with them for the past week, though few knew about that. Going to any event with them, however, would be a massive blunder.
Particularly when said event was Eliza’s ball.
He really needed to stop thinking about her so casually, but relegating her back to ‘Lady Aircourt’ in his mind felt like an extra nail in the coffin that he wasn’t ready to address. The calming presence of his sister and the joy of finally meeting his twin nephews had helped ease the heartache, and he was keen not to have the wound ripped open once more. Just the very image of Eliza’s cold disdain directed at him in the middle of a crowded, and likely hostile, ball was enough to shrivel him up inside. If he was even still invited.
“Play!” A tiny hand grasped his shirtsleeve, and James smiled indulgently at what he was reasonably sure was the eldest of his nephews. He’d been getting quite skilled at telling them apart. The younger boy sat farther away, jamming a large block in his mouth.
“Besides,” he continued, reaching over to pluck the toy from the toddler’s mouth, “I think I am needed here.”
“Very well,” Sophie relented with a mild frown. “I will not force you. But I am almost certain you two can reconcile.”
He kept his stare trained on his nephew, lest she see the turmoil in his eyes. “You are kind for thinking so, but I am afraid that opportunity has passed.”
Sophie sighed. “If you are sure…”
“Quite.”
She walked up and leaned down to leave a quick kiss on her children’s heads. “You be good for your uncle now.” She turned her attention to James. “And please make sure they are put to bed on time. They’ve inherited Jasper’s wily nature and will get into all sorts of mischief if you let them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied playfully.
She rose with a fresh smile of her own. “I’m off, then. Jasper is probably losing his mind in the carriage by himself.” Before leaving the room entirely, Sophie turned one last time. “If you change your mind, we will all be happy to stand by you.”
“Thank you, sister.” Her loyalty was something he would cherish to the end of his days.
James busied himself with managing the mild upset of the boys at the departure of their mother to keep his melancholy thoughts at bay. As terrified as he was to even dare grace Eliza’s door, the thought of seeing her again was infuriatingly tempting. No doubt she was dressed in her finest, blonde hair shining and evergreen eyes glittering in the candlelight. He could easily imagine her elegant neck tilting towards one of the guests, delicate red lips upturning with her regal and effortlessly charming smile. But then, of course, that beautiful face would go sour at the sight of him, and it really wasn’t worth subjecting himself to the Ton’s delighted derision. He'd made a fool of himself once already.
The boys calmed and returned to their blocks. Soon, however, even their merry company came to an end as the hour grew later, and he had their nurse take them to bed. Darkness had fallen, and he was left alone in front of the fire with only his pointless yearnings for company. Perhaps this was to be his future; sitting alone in the night with nary a soul to connect with, old and wallowing in genteel poverty for the rest of his life.
“Milord,” a footman called from the door.
James forced himself from the dungeons of his own mind and looked at the interloper. “Yes?”
The servant walked forward and held out a letter. “This just came for you, from Aircourt House.”
“I’ll take it, thank you.” He took the note, trying his best to appear calm as he unfolded the parchment. It was an invitation, nearly identical to the once he’d received a few weeks ago. He turned it in his hands, sure there must be some mistake, but spied a message scrawled on the back.
Please come.
Eliza
He thought his heart might burst from his chest at the two simple words. She wanted him to come. But why? No matter, he thought with an inward shake. The truth would be revealed upon his arrival. Nothing worse could befall him now, and something told him that not heeding her words would be the biggest regret of his life.
**
James smoothed out his evening coat as he glanced out of his hired hackney at the well-lit façade of Eliza’s home. The front door was propped, likely for any stragglers who might arrive late to the event. The marble foyer within glowed in welcome, a few people milling about within it.
It was, quite possibly, the single most terrifying moment of his life. He clutched the invitation in his hand and shored up his nerves enough to open the door and step out onto the pavement. The hackney rumbled away shortly after, leaving him alone to whatever fate waited within the grand home. Knowing it would be futile to dawdle any further, James strode up the stairs and through the grand maw of the door.
The footman he handed his invitation to didn’t react at all to his presence, despite the fact that he was entirely certain at least a few members of the staff had seen him sneaking in and out of the house on several evenings. “Good evening, Lord Dalton,” the man greeted cordially. He gestured to the ballroom. “Her Ladyship is expecting you.”
James eyed the open double doors with more than a little misgiving. Already, people were staring. One woman spotted him and openly gasped, another gentleman nearly spitting out his champagne. But he’d gotten this far and there was no backing down now. With every step towards the ballroom, more whispers abounded, and by the time he’d crossed the threshold, the fervor of his arrival had already reached most of the guests within. He pushed on, leveling a cool stare at every gawker he passed. Despite the rather horrifying attention, the ball looked every bit as spectacular as Eliza had likely been hoping. The decorations were lavish, yet tasteful, and the music was being played to utter perfection. The room itself was an absolute crush, which was awful for him but likely a great triumph for his former lover. This looked to be her most successful ball yet, and he hoped he wasn’t about to ruin it with his presence. James made his way through the crowd, many amongst it seeming to scatter away from him like ants. He spied Francesca and Ashford talking to one another, their respective spouses joining them as the waltz being played came to a close. Sophie and Amberwood appeared moments later, and James watched the mingling group with no small amount of relief.
Kitty was the first to spot him, cheerily waving him down in her usual blunt fashion. “There you are, Dalton. We were beginning to think you really wouldn’t show.”
