Chapter Four

Elaine was entirely unprepared for this.

The room buzzed with sound. The incessant chatter mingled with the soft strains of music, making it nearly impossible for her to think clearly. It felt as though the grand room she had entered was shrinking by the minute, crammed with fan-wielding ladies and waistcoat-clad gentlemen, their voices weaving together into a vibrant tapestry of sound. The man standing by the staircase continued announcing more guests with seemingly no end in sight.

She was hot and she lamented the fact that she did not have a fan on her person. Thankfully, she’d spied a set of terrace doors when she’d arrived. If she needed a reprieve, she could head there.

For now, she tried to be content with standing awkwardly by a large potted plant, pretending she didn’t want to hide behind its broad leaves. This environment overwhelmed her senses, making her silent home seem like a monastery.

“Ah, there you are!” Lorna’s approach immediately brightened Elaine’s mood. They’d arrived together but Lorna had dragged James off to meet one of her friends and her daughter. Judging by the scowl on James’ face, he was not very pleased with the interaction.

“Darling, you shouldn’t hide in the corner like this,” Lorna went on to say, putting a hand on the small of Elaine’s back to guide her forward. “You look as beautiful as a blooming flower tonight. You should be seen! Shouldn’t she, James?”

James crossed his arms, his gaze fixed ahead. “I have noticed a number of gentlemen looking your way since we’ve entered. I would not be surprised if they soon begin approaching to write their name on your dance card.”

“And I hope that when they do, you will make yourself scarce?” Lorna asked with a raised brow.

James frowned at her. “Why would I do that?”

“Because your scowl will only frighten them away,” Lorna said patiently.

“If they are so easily scared away then good riddance. That will only make my job easier.”

Lorna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Elaine bit her bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

“It is as James says, Aunt Lorna,” she said, rushing to her cousin’s defence. “I doubt any gentleman who truly wants my company will be deterred by James’ presence.”

“You are the last person who should be agreeing with him,” Lorna sighed.

“I only see the merit in his argument, that’s all.” Elaine felt herself relax. Standing alone at a ball where she knew no one had filled her with tension.

At that moment, a hush fell over the ballroom. Elaine looked at the entrance to see a broad-shouldered man with greying temples and a sharp chin step through the door just as he was announced as the Marquess of Grovington. At his side stood a beautiful, blond-haired lady, smiling down at the ballroom like a queen addressing her court. She was introduced as his daughter, Lady Isabella.

The air in the room changed as if everyone was held in a trance. Even Lorna and James were looking as father and daughter descended the staircase to join the masses. Elaine couldn’t understand it. Clearly, they were important people, though she wasn’t certain why.

“It has just gotten far more competitive,” Lorna whispered to her. “Let us hope you will be seated beside a decent gentleman during dinner.”

“Dinner?” Elaine inquired curiously.

“Yes, did I not show you the invitation? There will be dancing, then dinner, then we shall all convene in the drawing room. It will be a long night.”

Elaine bolstered her resolve. It didn’t matter that the noise and people were overwhelming her. The more time she spent at this ball, the greater her chances of attracting a gentleman willing to wed her. She couldn’t waste this opportunity.

“Come.” Lorna took her by the arm. “I already have a few gentlemen I could introduce you to. James, you stay put.”

“I shall do no such thing.”

Lorna sighed, shaking her head but said nothing as she walked off with Elaine by her side and James on their heels. Elaine’s heart began to race as Lorna brought her to a group of gentlemen who immediately ceased their conversation upon her approach.

“Lord Penly, Lord Millbury, Lord Thornbush, please meet my niece, Lady Elaine.”

Lord Penly, Lord Millbury, and Lord Thornbush all seemed happy to meet her. They were kind, taking her hand individually to kiss the back of it and only Lord Millbury balked at James’ towering presence. They asked her simple questions about how her evening was progressing and questions about what she was interested in. Elaine entertained them with a polite smile, relaxing as the conversation wore on. They all seemed like decent gentlemen, she decided halfway through.

But she felt no spark with any of them. Lord Penly and Lord Millbury were handsome enough, Lord Thornbush bearing harsher features, but she didn’t care much about one’s appearance. Deep down, she harboured the hope that she would meet a gentleman who made her heart skip a beat, who brought an easy smile to her lips, who made her feel at ease and protected. She felt none of that with these men.

Such things do not matter , she reminded herself as she nodded along to Lord Thornbush’s tale of his Grand Tour. I am here to find a husband. Not to fall in love.

But convincing herself of that was harder than she expected.

Lorna observed the interaction, pleased, but she didn’t let it go on forever. She slipped in at an opportune time and bade the men farewell before leading Elaine away to another acquaintance.

“They took too long to ask for a dance,” Lorna remarked. “They shall return, I am certain. I believe they took a liking to you.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Elaine murmured, feeling a twinge of nervousness.

“Worry not, my darling. We must make use of our time before the dancing begins so that you are seen by as many gentlemen as possible.”

“I cannot help but liken this to a prised pig being paraded at themarket,” James drawled from behind.

Lorna stopped and sent her son a scathing look. “Pray, go and divert yourself elsewhere, James. I can manage this alone.”

James was about to protest, Elaine knew. Yet she recognised it made little sense for him to follow them about, though she appreciated his dedication. Before he could say anything, she said, “It’s all right, James. I will be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced but he finally gave her a stiff nod before walking off.

Lorna let out a breath. “Feels much lighter, does it not?”

Elaine chuckled softly at that, allowing herself to be swept away.

***

Michael was drawing closer to her. It was strategic at first. He had no intention of approaching her directly and had already devised a plan for making the introduction. Thus, he moved slowly around the ballroom, keeping a watchful eye on Lady Elaine and Lady Abney.

The dowager viscountess seemed determined to introduce Lady Elaine to every gentleman in attendance. Michael felt a bolt of relief when Lord Abney was sent away. That was the first step of his plan and they’d made it easy for him. What troubled him was their eagerness, as they moved from one gentleman to another, capturing the interest of nearly everyone they encountered.

Something about watching Lord Balor’s eyes trail after Lady Elaine unsettled him.

Michael dismissed the sensation and moved even closer. Soon enough, he found himself standing just a few feet away from her, pretending to enjoy a glass of wine. He was close enough to notice her swan-like neck and her tendency to clasp her hands behind her, then in front, then behind. A nervous act, he realised. Above all, he was close enough to overhear her.

“The night has hardly begun and I already feel dreadfully tired,” he heard her say. Her voice was melodic, soft yet firm, carrying easily. Michael straightened, bothered by the way it affected him.

“You will have to get used to that, my darling,” Lady Abney said. “These things are often long and drawn out, though I’m sure Lady Jones will keep us entertained.”

“When will the dancing begin?”

“Soon, I’m sure. Are you prepared?”

Michael slid his eyes to the side, watching as she nodded, then shook her head. “I am not,” she confessed. “It has been so long since I’ve danced. I’m afraid I will not remember the steps.”

“There’s nothing to it, darling. You simply need to let the gentleman guide you.”

“That sounds easier said than done.”

“You shall know soon enough, I am certain.”

Michael watched as she clasped her hands behind her once more, a worried frown furrowing her brow. Before she could say anything, an elderly man approached her.

Michael recognised him, though their last interaction had occurred while he was still the heir to the dukedom. Lord Weatherby seemed as ancient as time itself, his lined, pockmarked face unchanged despite the years that had passed. The only difference Michael noticed was that he was slightly bent now and would certainly do from the use of a cane.

Still, his steps were sure as he approached Lady Elaine and Lady Abney. Lady Abney’s smile was swift, yet Michael's sharp gaze did not miss her fleeting glance of uncertainty toward her niece. Lady Elaine, on the other hand… she looked as if she was staring at a spectre.

Michael smiled ruefully behind his glass. The analogy was not entirely unfounded.

“My ladies,” Lord Weatherby greeted in a gravelly voice, bowing deeply. “My apologies for any interruption.”

“It is no interruption, my lord,” Lady Abney replied smoothly. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting my niece, Lady Elaine?”

Lord Weatherby smiled a little, his lidded eyes disappearing in the act. “I was hoping I could be acquainted. And that I could have the honour of the first dance.”

Lady Elaine remained silent at first, her hesitation palpable. Michael almost felt bad for her.

Lady Abney quickly rushed to cover up the uncomfortable silence. “She would love to! Go on, Elaine.”

Lady Abney gave her niece a small push towards Lord Weatherby, who didn’t seem to mind Lady Elaine’s obvious reluctance. Michael watched as she was led towards the centre of the room just as the first set began. His pity deepened when he saw the despondency on her face when Lord Weatherby gathered her closer.

Michael shook his head, clearing his mind of the bothersome emotion. He had to focus. There was no time or space in his life to feel pity for one of the enemies—even if she might not have done anything wrong.

Michael set his untouched glass of wine down and started forward. They danced the quadrille and, despite her earlier reservations, she seemed to perform flawlessly. Lord Weatherby looked like a bumbling mess next to her graceful movements and she looked at him as if she couldn’t believe she was truly dancing with him. It took Michael back a bit. He was so used to polite tightness and barbed words, with no one truly saying what they felt. Yet this lady wore her every thought across her face. He wondered if she was even aware of it.

He spied a gentleman standing off to the side and decided to use him to his advantage.

“Lord Harlington,” he greeted smoothly, very aware of how close he stood to the dancing couple. “It has been a while.”

Lord Harlington’s eyes widened with surprise. “Your Grace! It is a surprise. I was not aware that you’d returned to London.”

“I have only been here a few months. I thought to make my presence known at this evening’s ball.”

“Quite an impression, Your Grace,” Lord Harlington chuckled. “You have missed quite a lot since our time at Eton. I think you would be happy to hear that Norton has gotten married, the old chap…”

Michael stopped listening. He spied Lady Elaine in the corner of his eye, watching her twirl about before being pulled back in by Lord Weatherby. He waited until she was released by the aged gentleman. Discreetly, Michael took one step back.

She collided with him, letting out a small ‘oof’. The smell of jasmines washed over Michael, emptying his mind for a moment, and he forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

“Pardon me, my lord,” she said hastily.

“No, pardon me.” He turned to steady her, his hand on her elbow, and their eyes met.

For the third time that night, Michael’s breath left his lungs with a whoosh. She had the purest set of eyes, as green as emeralds, as bright as the jewels themselves, bordered by thick, long eyelashes.

“My lady, shall we…”

“A-ah, yes.” She jerked away from Michael, turning to face Lord Weatherby. “Forgive me, I…”

“It is my fault, Lord Weatherby,” Michael stepped in, remembering himself. Remembering what he came here to do. “I stepped in her path.”

Lord Weatherby straightened as he looked at Michael, studying him for a moment. Up close, he looked far older, lines carved deep into every inch of his face. “The Duke of Ryewood,” he said at last. “Michael, is it not? I knew your father very well.”

Michael nodded. This was not how he intended on making his introduction to Lady Elaine but he supposed he had to make do with the situation. “Yes, my lord, I recall that you two were good friends. It is a pleasure seeing you again. And you…”

Lady Elaine, who had been staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips, jolted when he turned his attention back to her. She blinked rapidly, momentarily flustered. “Allow me to make the introduction,” Lord Weatherby said. “This is His Grace the Duke of Ryewood, and this is Lady Elaine Sutton, daughter of the Earl of Suthenshire.” “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” she said quickly. “I am here with my aunt, the Dowager Viscountess of Abney, though I am not certain where she has wandered off to. Perhaps she has stepped out to the terrace for a bit of fresh air.”

Amusement whispered through him. She was flustered, rambling. He certainly hadn’t expected that considering her otherwise graceful demeanour.

“Would you care to dance with me, Lady Elaine?”

Her eyes widened further in astonishment. How could that even be possible?

Slowly, she nodded and Michael took her hand, guiding her back out to the dance floor, ignoring Lord Weatherby. That had gone easier than he thought it would. Within minutes, he had her in his grasp. All he had to do was lay the foundation and she would be in the palm of his hands.

Hopefully, his heart would stop its incessant racing by then.