CHAPTER 4

Christopher hid away from the crowds as best he could by lingering near a Roman inspired column with fluted edges at the perimeter of Lady Ashford’s ballroom.

He would not have allowed his mother to talk him into this night, had Lady Ashford not been his beloved, widowed aunt. He had always been very fond of Abigail, which was why he found himself in the midst of her opulent gathering.

Only now he was wishing that he had simply remained at home where life was quieter.

“Mr. Fitzhugh, how do you fare, my esteemed comrade?” A gentleman who Christopher could barely recognize, much less remember his name, approached. Panic set in. How on earth was he going to navigate this awkward conversation now? “Mr. Devereux was just filling me in on your adventures in Europe. It seems like you had quite the time away, but of course nowhere compares to London.”

This was a statement that Christopher had been hearing a lot since he returned, and he could not help but note that it came only from those who had never left the city. Who had barely traveled across England, never mind anywhere else.

He plastered on the fake smile that had been causing his cheeks to ache all evening long and nodded in agreement. There was no point in trying to engage a man in conversation about a place he had never been to. It was far easier to remain quiet.

As the man continued on, talking about how well his business was succeeding in London, and how he would not like to be anywhere else in the world, Christopher’s eyes fell on the giant, commanding portrait of his aunt.

Abigail had provided him with steadfast support over the years, admiring his artistic talents when no one else in the family would, and making him feel worthwhile when he could not get any validation anywhere else. She was always the one he turned to when he needed true support from someone whom he truly believed perceiving and comprehending him thoroughly.

She was a wonderful woman, and Christopher found himself thoroughly jealous of her. She possessed such social dexterity that she did not need to worry about marrying for titles. She was permitted to marry for love, which was almost unheard of. Especially during her Seasons.

If only Christopher could do such a thing. He would not worry about rushing to find someone, he would simply allow it to happen naturally. He would allow life to pass him by while he worked on his passions, until love found him.

Just as disappointment for his real life and true duties was about to cascade over him, a servant passed with a tray of champagne glasses and Christopher snatched one up for himself, letting the gentle effervescence ground him.

That was never going to make him enjoy the night, but a few drinks would definitely loosen the stress coiling around in the pit of his stomach. Champagne was great for that.

Oh no. Just as Christopher finished the first sip of his drink, he noticed his mother crossing the crowed floor directly towards him with clear intent. The Devereux family were in her wake, which meant it was time for him to be as polite as humanly possible. Resistance was futile, his mother would not let him get away with the polite chat he was supposed to have.

“There you are, Christopher, hiding away.” Lenora laughed as she embraced her son. The hug was definitely a warning to behave himself. “You have been away from London for such a long time. Everyone is very eager to spend time with you, such as the Devereuxs.”

Christopher gritted his teeth together and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Devereux, who hovered over him eagerly with shining expectant eyes.

“Yes, it is quite wonderful to have you here,” Mr. Devereux declared with a bright smile. “Henrietta has been looking forward to tonight for a very long time.”

Henrietta stepped forth, fanning her eye lashes as she drew nearer to Christopher. No one seemed to notice when she pressed inappropriately close, but Christopher was immediately uncomfortable. He did not wish to have this conversation at all, least of all like this.

But it seemed like his polite nodding was not enough. His mother not so subtly cleared her throat to get his attention and nodded towards Henrietta.

He should have known that he was going to have to dance with her. He should have seen this moment coming, but he was out of practice. Spending so much time in Europe had caused him to forget all the ways that he was supposed to behave.

But Lenora would not let him forget completely.

“Miss Henrietta Devereux,” Christopher stated reluctantly. “Would you please reserve the first dance for me on your dance card?”

Henrietta tittered, her cheeks shining red. “Of course,” she agreed as she bobbed down in to a curtsy. “I would be honoured to have you as my first dance.”

Internally, Christopher cursed etiquette. Why must he be forced into dancing when he was not in the mood for it? Why did he have to act so foolish in public just so he could be seen as acceptable? It was madness as far as Christopher was concerned.

Thankfully now he had given his mother what she wanted, so she had stepped back and relaxed a little. She was talking to the Devereuxs like they were the best of friends. Henrietta remained far too close to him, and Christopher really wanted a way out.

Luckily, just as he was about to make up an excuse to slip away from the group, he spotted Elliot approaching him with his typical warm smile plastered across his face. His excuse had just come to him, making everything so much easier.

“I must greet my good friend, Lord Belmont,” he told the group quickly as he extracted himself. “I will see you on the dance floor, Miss Devereux.”

Christopher met Elliot away from his mother, thankfully his friend understood the need for distance, so they could talk. It was then Christopher noticed that his friend was not alone. He had a very captivating, lovely young woman on his arm. Her dark curls framed her face perfectly, and her green eyes were absolutely piercing. The grace that she carried herself with was unmatched. Christopher had never seen anyone like her before.

He was so captivated by her that he could not move. His initial confusion was replaced by a sheer sense of awe. The way her eyes sparkled, her graceful movements and the air of mystery surrounding her all seemed to captivate him instantly. It was as if she had an innate charm that effortlessly drew everyone towards her, even though they had never crossed paths before.

“Hello there, Christopher, are you enjoying the ball?” Elliot extended his hand out to greet Christopher. This is my cousin, Lady Clara Belmont. Clara, this is my good friend, Mr. Christopher Fitzhugh.”

Clara curtsied politely as Christopher bowed and shook her hand. The touch of her gloved hand was enough to have an intense sizzling feeling dancing in the pit of his stomach.

“Christopher is the friend that I was telling you about, Clara. The one who has been traveling around Europe working on his art.” Elliot turned back to Christopher. “Clara is quite the painter herself. She has a wonderful talent with water colours.”

Christopher felt himself light up. Now he became even more intrigued by this young woman standing in front of him. “You are an artist?”

“Yes,” Elliot interjected on her behalf. “And quite the talented one at that. You would be impressed, Christopher…”

Before Christopher could even think about what he was saying, he jumped at the chance to talk with someone who might actually share the same interests as him. “I would be delighted to view your works some time, Lady Clara Belmont. I am always extremely interested in the works of other people. That is what I have been exploring around Europe…”

It was only when he caught the surprise in Elliot’s eyes that he realised he might have over stepped a little. But the flattered blush that rose on Clara’s cheeks as she agreed to have him view her art work brought up intense intrigue within him instead.

“That would be lovely, Mr. Fitzhugh. I would love to hear what you think.”

They shared a smile, their eyes locked in on one another for a wonderful beat too long.

In that time, Christopher was quite sure that he could see depth in this young lady’s eyes. An understanding of him that he was not expecting anyone to ever have. How had he managed to miss this beautiful artsy woman? A woman that even without words, he could sense something like a sizzling connection burning brightly between them?

Could Elliot sense that? Was he happy about it? Or would he be furious?

Christopher parted his lips, ready to ask Clara lots of questions about her work, and her styling so he could get a true feel of her art, but before he could get any words out, the opening notes of the first dance set began.

Duty called.

Christopher had already agreed to a dance with Henrietta, and he knew that he would not be able to escape that. Not with his name on her dance card and their families watching out for them.

He excused himself regretfully, sensing his mother’s eyes upon him, and he located the lilac dress that he had felt pressed close to him not so long ago.

“There you are,” Henrietta declared excitedly. “I have been looking forward to this moment.”

“Yes. Me too.” Christopher nodded and held out his hand. “Please, let me escort you to the dance floor.”

There were many other couples doing the same thing, but Christopher truly felt like everyone was staring at him, wondering what his intentions were now that he was back in London. Was Henrietta the woman that he had his eye on? Would he want to marry her and to settle down into a comfortable, boring life in the city?

“The floral arrangements live up to their reputation,” Henrietta declared excitedly as the set began. She was obviously very practiced in dancing; she knew all of the steps well and seemed to have been taught by a very good teacher. But all that did was leave Christopher with a sense of discomfort. He was obviously out of step and out of touch. Something he did not wish to discover while he was on the dance floor. “I have been so thrilled to see the flowers. What do you think about them?”

“Erm, yes…” Christopher was not too sure what to say about the floral arrangements. He had barely even noticed them. “They are lovely.”

“I especially like the pink flowers. I think they make the ballroom look utterly lovely. I would like to have some of them in my own home…”

Christopher could not help but tune Henrietta out. He truly did not know what to say about the flowers, they were of no interest to him. Instead, he found his eyes traveling around the dance floor to locate Clara once again.

She was entwined in the arms of another lord that Christopher was sure he knew, but that he barely recognized. She looked about as interested in what he was saying as Christopher felt. If only they could be dancing with one another, talking about art and painting styles. All the things that truly fascinated him the most, and seemed to intrigue her also.

A sadness settled in Christopher’s spirit as he was overcome with an intense sense that he had missed the possibility to talk to her properly and to get to know her. If Elliot had introduced them to one another earlier in the evening, before the dance sets started, he might have really been able to get a feel of her. Perhaps they could have arranged a dance after all…