Chapter Five

T he only person who had ever felt this right in his arms was Frances. He had already determined the goddess in emerald silk was Franny, but confirmation came the moment he settled his hand on her waist.

Five years may have passed but nothing else had changed. He still loved her and wanted her and he was certain that the only reason Frances was still dancing with him was because she did not know his identity.

Was there any chance that she’d forgive him, or had forgiven him?

As the waltz ended the clock struck midnight. Her eyes widened and Frances tried to turn and step away but he kept one hand on her waist and with the other, untied the ribbon at the back of her head and the mask fell away.

Her coral lips parted and she looked as if she feared what he may say or do. Only then did Seth let go of her and remove his own mask.

“Hello, Franny.”

“You knew?” she asked.

“Before we ever danced.”

She frowned. “We were never to meet again and if we did, you would not acknowledge me, so why ask me to dance not once, but twice?”

He had been such a bloody, bloody fool when he had declared such, regardless of his intentions back then.

“I could not help myself,” Seth admitted.

She gaped at him as if he were mad, and perhaps he was.

“How have you been?”

“Well,” she simply answered but did not extend the same courtesy by asking after him.

Did Frances hate him so much or was it because it had been so long since they had last spoken? Had time and distance erased what they had previously shared?

Were they nothing more but strangers now?

At one time that had been his intention, but after looking into her eyes and waltzing with her, Seth knew, without a doubt, no matter how wise or foolish, he wanted Frances back in his life.

“Might I call on you?”

“No.” Then without a by-your-leave, Frances was gone.

Frances was shaking by the time she reached Bethany and hoped that her friend would wish to leave soon.

Why had Seth asked to call on her now and after so much time had passed?

What did he want?

Did Seth think that they could renew the friendship or was it simply a polite courtesy?

Would they discuss the weather over tea and then she’d not see him again for another five years?

Did she even want to see him again?

Yes! It was also the very reason why she should not.

Her heart hammered in her chest as too many conflicting emotions rioted within. She wanted to hate and resent him for the pain that he had caused her in the past, but she also wanted to be in his arms again, to be what they were…what she had thought they were.

Thought! It had been a lie. None of it had been real or he would not have easily dismissed her.

Oh, she hated that Seth had grown more handsome, when she hadn’t thought it was possible. Goodness, her heart had nearly skipped when her eyes met his and hated that he still had such power over her.

It had been five years and she should no longer harbor any kind emotions for Lord Seth Claxton, yet she did.

Regardless of what he wanted, any further encounter with Seth was dangerous. Tonight had already proven that her heart had not fully mended, and she could not risk it being broken again.

She glanced back to find him standing where she had left him, watching her and anger rose. How dare he ask to call on her after he had turned his back on her five years ago! How dare he want to speak with her now!

Tessa and His Grace were also returning from the dance floor, their masks removed, and beside Bethany stood Seth’s sister, Lady Blythe. She had been the woman who had wanted to remain anonymous.

Lady Blythe was three years younger than her and they had not been friends, but everyone in Laswell knew who the Claxtons were. “Lady Blythe.” She dipped into a quick curtsey.

The woman smiled. “It is good to see you again, Miss Hawthorn. I hope you have been well.”

“Yes…I have…and you?” If Seth’s sister was standing here, no doubt he would be along soon since no other gentleman had been near Lady Blythe and she certainly would not have attended the masquerade ball on her own, unless she had come with her cousin, Tessa.

“I have,” Lady Blythe answered.

It was then that Frances turned to Bethany. “We should go. The hour grows late.”

Bethany frowned. “It is only midnight, Frances.”

“I have developed a headache. I can return home and send the carriage back for you.”

“If Miss Hawthorn is unwell, I can see her home,” Seth offered as he came up from behind.

Frances turned. “That will not be necessary, Lord Seth.” She then leaned in close. “I do have a reputation to consider despite my advanced years and spinster status.”

He pulled back though humor danced in his blue eyes.

Blast him. He was still a handsome charmer and she must keep distance between them.

“Tessa also grows tired and we were about to leave,” His Grace announced. “We will be happy to see you home, Miss Hawthorn.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Frances said her goodbyes to Bethany and Lady Blythe and then looked at Seth. “Good evening, Lord Seth.” Her tone was brisk, lacking any warmth, so that he did not mistake a courtesy for a friendly departure. She then turned on her heel and marched away, hoping to put him from her mind, which Frances knew would be impossible.

She should have made an excuse to end the waltz as soon as she had realized it was him, but she had selfishly wanted to remain in his arms and to be near him. Now, once again, her heart began to ache with the loss as it had done so many years ago when he had rejected her.

Why hadn’t the pain lessened after all this time? She should have recovered, and believed that she had, but clearly remnants remained.

Ha! Remnants! The moment she had looked into his eyes last night, every single emotion she had experienced the day he rejected her had returned and was felt as deeply as if it had only happened the day before.

Why did he have to appear now, when everything was about to work out perfectly for her?

She was finally independent and no longer living with her family. She had an opportunity to earn a good income and fully enjoy her life regardless of whether anyone approved of her or not. She’d been liberated from her sad wallflower status and pitied for being the poor spinster sister of the Earl of Albany and was finally forging her own path. Now Seth had to appear, which threatened her happiness.

Frances could only hope that his request to call on her had only been polite and she would likely not see him again. At least she hoped that was the case because she was clearly still vulnerable and any moment spent with Seth was dangerous to her heart.