Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

A pprehension settled in Eva's stomach like a lead weight. Her body automatically stiffened in response, bringing her back down to Earth. Josiah clearly noticed her sudden reticence, and when they were facing one another again, he gave her a quick querying look. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, not wishing him to complicate things by worrying or asking questions.

The lesson proceeded, with Josiah only gently correcting Eva's form once or twice. She followed him automatically, but her heart was not as enthusiastic as it had been just a few moments before. It wasn't that she was rethinking her decision, which had very nearly been made, but more that it would be impossible to go through with it on her terms if Lady Stanton were to intervene. That would only lead to more heartache and complication than would be strictly necessary; she hoped to present a fait accompli rather than having to fight her way forward from the very beginning.

When the hour had passed, Josiah stepped back from Eva, but Eva could almost still feel him near her, as if the physical distance did not matter. Unconsciously, she had oriented herself about him, adjusting whenever he moved; it was like they were still dancing, even when simply standing and speaking.

"You have done well, Lady Eva," Josiah said earnestly, ducking his head a little to catch her eye. "I mean it. You should be very proud."

"I am," Eva replied softly, but with no less feeling.

Lady Stanton, having noticed their stillness, took the opportunity to march forward. "That is the hour concluded, yes?" she said. Without waiting for a reply, she snipped, "I should hate to think that I shall be charged more than an hour for the sake of conversation."

"No one would ever think of charging you for conversation, Lady Stanton," Josiah retorted breezily. His face was all politeness, and it was all that Eva could do to keep herself from laughing aloud. She was momentarily afraid that she might actually rupture something from the effort, especially when Lady Stanton's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied at last, her gaze lingering on Mr. Galpin. "I presume that you have deemed Eva ready for the ton, then?"

"She was ready before," Josiah said with a sideways glance to Eva. "But now she shall be a leader of fashion; there are not many young ladies who will know how to waltz yet, and even fewer that can do it well."

"And this is where dance is headed, in your opinion?" Lady Stanton asked, scepticism writ large across her face.

Josiah gave an elegant little shrug. "It is, though it is not just my opinion. The dance is sweeping the Continent, and where Europe goes, Britain typically follows in these matters. I should not be surprised if dancing is only done in couples within a decade, two at most."

"And not in sets?" Lady Stanton pursed her lips at the notion. "That is an absurd notion. I can't countenance such a thing becoming de rigeur in the better houses."

"The Duke and Duchess of Brandon are having a demonstration of the new waltzes at their ball next week," Eva chimed in, and then immediately began mentally kicking herself. She should not have tipped that particular hand just yet.

Lady Stanton stared at Eva for a moment. "I suppose it is good that you are so well-prepared for such a fashionable occasion, then." She turned her attention back to Mr. Galpin. "We've already had our invitations; the Duke and Duchess are great friends."

"Have you indeed?" Josiah replied coolly. "I shall look forward to seeing you there then."

"You'll be attending as well?" Lady Stanton asked, her brows darting upward.

"I shall be demonstrating," Josiah said with a sweeping bow and an elegantly turned calf.

"Oh!" Lady Stanton laughed, "you shall be attending as a performer —I thought for a moment you meant to say that you would be an invited guest , and that the Duchess had taken leave of her senses."

"Why would that be, Mother?" Eva blurted, defensive. "Why shouldn't Mr. Galpin attend?"

"Because it isn't done , Eva," Lady Stanton said, waving her daughter off. "Don't take on with me, Mr. Galpin isn't offended; he knows the way of the world."

"Indeed I do," he murmured, his voice low and rife with barely concealed irritation.

"It's different for people born into a certain class," Lady Stanton continued, as if she hadn't heard Mr. Galpin…which she very likely did not. "Take my daughter for instance: Born to a specific way of life, and never losing sight of that. From the time she was old enough to form words, she knew what her duty was, and happy she was to do it, too! Always had her sights set very high."

"Mother, I really don't—" Eva tried to interject, but to no avail.

"Nothing less than a duke would do for her," Lady Stanton said, looking at Eva with such overbearing condescension that Eva thought she might suffocate from it. "She always told her father, rest his soul, that she would marry into only the highest echelons of the ton."

"I see that Lady Eva has always been goal-oriented," Josiah commented, his voice tight. Eva could scarcely bring herself to look at him, her cheeks burning. She couldn't even deny that she had said those things, because of course she had! It was all that she was brought up to expect. What else had she known?

"Position is everything for my Eva," Lady Stanton said, smiling beatifically at her daughter. "I'm sure she will be very grateful to you when your lessons help her to achieve this."

"Then I'm sure she will consider it time well-spent," Mr. Galpin said in clipped tones. "Now, I believe that our business is ready to be concluded, Lady Stanton. Unfortunately I cannot linger in your company; as you so graciously pointed out, I unfortunately must continue to work for my bread."

"Yes, yes, of course," Lady Stanton said. "Now, will a banker's draft do? I can have one drawn up for you—Chadwick! Wherever has that footman got off to?" Lady Stanton bustled over to the door, sticking her head out and searching for the offending footman.

Eva, taking advantage of the comparable and momentary solitude, turned instinctually to Josiah, trying to catch his eye. He remained aloof, however, his chin lifted proudly, and his gaze a thousand yards away.

"Please, Mr. Galpin, I… Please do not be offended by anything my mother says," she whispered urgently.

"On the contrary," Mr. Galpin replied smoothly. "I feel that I owe her a great debt for her candour."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Josiah said, turning his stormy grey eyes to Eva at last, "that she has made certain things abundantly clear. I am glad to be apprised of these things before I—well." He straightened abruptly, smoothing his cravat a little. "I have never been one to stand between a lady and her dreams, and I have no intention of starting now."

Eva reared back, placing one hand at her throat. "What do you know about my dreams?"

"More than I should like to," he snapped.

The door to the ballroom creaked open again, and Eva turned away from Josiah, feeling cold and bereft as she did so. Lady Stanton returned, a footman in tow, who carried a ledger, as well as Josiah's hat, greatcoat, and walking stick.

Lady Stanton took up a pen, and after twice having Mr. Galpin confirm the amount, the banker's draft was complete. She tore it from the ledger with a ripping sound that echoed down the length of the modest ballroom, making Eva wince. She remained turned away; she had her pride, after all. Still, she could not stop herself from glancing over her shoulder once, as Lady Stanton passed the draft to Mr. Galpin.

"There," she said, a note of triumph in her voice. "I believe this concludes our business."

For a long moment, Josiah simply stared down at the draft in his hand. "Yes," he said slowly, folding it crisply and placing it into his inner jacket pocket. "I believe we are finished." Without further prompting, he took his hat and removed his gloves before settling it firmly on his head. A small bow, and without second glance, he turned and left.

Eva hated that she did not turn to watch him go, knowing that it was the last time anything would pass between them.

The story of Lot's wife had never held any particular meaning for Josiah. As a practical, single-minded child, he'd always listen to that story with a sort of superior smugness. It's so simple , he'd think to himself, all she had to do was not look back. It was such an easy task, simply keep walking forward; it wasn't anything strenuous, like crossing a sea or not getting eaten by hungry lions. Just don't look back. As he got older, Josiah's opinion hadn't really altered. It was never any doubt that he just simply wouldn't turn back around.

As he walked away from Lady Stanton's ballroom, away from Eva, he realised what a prideful fool he was. Step by agonising step, the urge to turn and look back was pure torture. He felt as if he were walking through molasses, his legs and feet preternaturally heavy.

Just as he was at the point of turning back, the door to the ballroom latched closed. Whatever spell he had been under was broken in that moment. He firmed his grip on his walking stick, and stepped out of the townhouse onto the street. The cold February wind that whipped down the street helped to clear his head, and he sucked in a greedy lungful.

It's my own fault, he thought bitterly. I should not have expected so much of her. It's not even really her fault; the yoke of polite society is hard to throw off.

He set off down the street, his gait and bearing such that those that were in his path took one look at him and quickly scampered out of the way. He did not even really see where he was going; he simply knew that he didn't want to be anywhere near Eva Stanton anymore, lest his resolve crumble.

I just expected more of her , he lamented to himself. Which, he supposed, was really his failing. She had given no indication that she wanted to leave her life, to be free, to be…with him . The simple fact was that he was only a part of a transaction, a stepping-stone.

The banker's draft in his pocket pressed against him, weighing as much as an anchor.