Chapter 29

"Might you do something with your face, Leah?" Ezra grumbled, shaking his head. "Goodness, anyone would think you had just received some terrible news! Sarah, my darling, have you ever seen such a morose expression on a young lady's face? A young lady who will one day be a duchess at that!"

Leah bit the inside of her cheek, willing herself not to cry. "It truly warms my heart to hear your compliments, Father. You should toss away your book of insults and begin another entitled, Ezra Bolton's Compendium of Compliments to Ensure Your Wayward Daughter Always Doubts Herself."

"Leave her be, Ezra," Sarah said quietly. "She has been unwell. If you wish her to become feverish again, please do continue to bully her."

Ezra's eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open. "Bully her? I have never heard such nonsense in all my life! I am merely trying to prevent her from making an embarrassment of herself twice over. The Duke will not appreciate a sullen face; that is all I am saying."

"Heaven forbid any man should like me, regardless of my expression," Leah shot back, tears threatening.

I did not even want to come to this blasted ball,she neglected to add, holding her tongue.

Across the carriage, Sarah caught her eye, offering a small nod of understanding. It startled the tears back from whence they came, Leah's heart pounding so hard that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Did her mother know already? How was that possible? She had not told a soul other than her friends, and they had vowed to keep the secret until Leah was ready to break the courtship.

I should do it soon, she told herself as she had been for two weeks. Yet, every time she mustered some semblance of courage, she lost her nerve. She kept telling herself it was because she wanted to make Nathaniel stew awhile as some sort of petty revenge, but the truth was simpler: she still was not ready. She was not confident enough to find out which way society's arrow would spin, nor was she ready to truly bid farewell to the man she loved.

"I think you look beautiful," Sarah said, "and I shall always adore you, regardless of what expression you wear upon your face. There is nothing you could do or say that would make me love you less, my darling."

She knows… Those words, said so daringly in front of Ezra, confirmed it.

"Saying that the Duke has decided to end your courtship would be one thing," Ezra interjected, exploding into laughter as if it was the most improbable event in the world. "I would have to try very hard to even allow you back in my home. I imagine, I would send you to a nunnery and be done with—"

Sarah smacked her husband hard in the arm. "Ezra! That is deeply unkind and not at all the hilarious jest you think it is!" She tutted loudly. "Goodness, you have the tact of an imbecile sometimes."

"Has everyone been dragged through the gloomy hedge this evening?" Ezra retorted huffily. "I did not realize it was a full moon when all you ladies have your ability to laugh removed."

Sarah stood her ground. "Nothing is assured yet, Ezra, and I will not have you upsetting our daughter with idle threats. What if His Grace were to betray her? What if he were to hurt her or embarrass her? Saying things like "she will not be allowed home" is not helpful!"

A cleverer man might have read between the lines as Sarah presumably had, but Ezra had never been the smartest of gentlemen. Instead, he chose to sulk, turning his face away to watch the outskirts of London flash past the window, muttering, "No one appreciates my humor in this family," as he did so.

For once, his obliviousness might have been for the best.

* * *

Entering the heat and noise of Lord Shilbottle's manor, Leah searched the entrance hall for any sign of Nathaniel. They had not spoken, had not written, since the night she left him on the balcony, yet she hoped he might have the decency to stay away from public events for a while.

As she observed unfamiliar faces, her mother caught hold of her hand, whispering, "Leah, might we walk for a moment? There are… things that need to be said, I think."

Panic struck Leah's chest like a canister exploding. "I must go to the refreshment room first," she said in a hurry. "The girls said they would be here early, and Olivia is supposed to be with them. It has been so long since I have seen her; I will be as quick as I can, and then we can… walk."

"As you wish," Sarah replied with a sad smile. "Go and enjoy yourself. I will be waiting, whenever you are ready."

What if I never am? The thought had crossed Leah's mind as the days had gone by, and she had not said a word about breaking the courtship. But the London season would not last forever, and the longer she left it, the longer the scandal sheets bore no mention of a broken courtship, the more likely it was that Nathaniel would take matters into his own hands.

"I promise, I shall only be a moment," Leah lied.

Breaking away from her mother, Leah hurried through the crowds, weaving around young ladies and proud gentlemen, all of whom seemed to be whispering about her. She might have been imagining it, but it was the only explanation she had for the hot prickle that pinched down her spine and the fiery burn of her ears, like they had been brushed with a nettle.

She all but burst into the refreshment room… and found herself alone. Almost.

Two other figures stood in the vast room, perusing the delicacies, sweet treats, savory morsels, and beverages that were laid out in a buffet style. They had their backs to Leah, but she would have known them anywhere. And had she entered the room with more grace, perhaps she would have been able to make her escape undetected, but just as she was beginning to inch backwards, her ragged breaths drew the attention of Dorothy.

"Oh, I thought I smelled something foul," she said curtly, her eyes narrowing into a glower.

Jonathan turned to see what his wife was talking about. With a small pastry of some kind halfway to his mouth, his eyebrows shot up in astonishment as he saw Leah. "Lady Leah, I… heard that you were unwell. I trust you are much improved?"

Dorothy shot him a nasty glare. "Why should you care?"

"I am merely being polite, darling," Jonathan replied, his tone sharp. "You would do well to behave similarly. That sour face does not become you."

Leah took a steadying breath. "I did not mean to interrupt. I was searching for my friends."

"Those harpies you are rarely without?" Dorothy spat. "I am afraid we have not seen them. If they were standing in this room, I would not be. It is unbecoming to associate with such infamous creatures."

Leah blinked, feeling every venomous barb. Clearly, something had occurred between the married couple, and she did not want to involve herself in the troubles of anyone else. "Well then, I shall leave you in peace."

"You should have thought of that sooner," Dorothy replied, her dainty nostrils flaring. "Why are you always where you are not welcome? Why must you always bother us? Are you truly so desperate?"

Leah did not know whether to laugh or simply leave. "Lady Chesterwood, I know not what offence I have caused. Indeed, I am equally perturbed by the fact that we keep running into one another." She paused, gathering her strength. "If I had my way, I would never cross paths with you again, but I am not the mapmaker, and it appears that the heavens are having a few games at our expense. Please, continue with your evening, and let us do our very best to avoid one another like the plague."

She turned and headed out of the refreshment room as calmly as her shaky legs would allow, but not before she heard Jonathan hiss, "What is the matter with you? I will not have you speak like that to anyone in my company, ever again. If you do, I shall wash your mouth out with soap."

It is not me you should be angry with, Dorothy, Leah urged, pitying the poor young girl and wishing she had not retorted so curtly. It was not Dorothy's fault. Dorothy merely wanted to protect her marriage and her love for Jonathan, and for some bizarre reason, she thought Leah was a threat.

Halting on the main thoroughfare, where clusters of friends chatted contentedly and the sound of sweet music drifted from the ballroom, Leah found herself at an impasse. She did not want to return to her mother to have a conversation she was not yet prepared for, she did not want to venture into the ballroom or anywhere else until her friends arrived, and she could not go back into the refreshment room to wait for her friends without risking the wrath of Dorothy.

In all her three-and-twenty years, Leah had never felt so alone.

A cool breeze tickled the back of her neck, sneaking out of a half open door a few paces away. Deciding that fresh air might be the perfect remedy, she slipped into the nearby room—a dining room that did not seem to be in use—and found the breath of cold wind, marked by the flap of a dark green drape in front of French doors.

From there, the wintry terrace beckoned, the flagstones glinting with frost.

She stepped out, carefully making her way as far down the terrace as she could go, away from the heat and light of the ball. She passed the dark windows of empty rooms, feeling calmer as the music and the sound of voices receded to a faint babble until, at last, she came to the farthest corner of the manor. A bench sat tucked against the wall, and there she rested her trembling legs, grateful for the shadows and the quiet.

I wish… I could forget you. I wish you had never stumbled into my life, for you have made it impossible to be without you, she lamented, closing her eyes as the cold night washed over her. The air smelled of snow again, transporting her back to the balcony of Lord Haughton's manor. She imagined Nathaniel's arms around her once more and the press of his lips, keeping her warm. That memory should have been able to keep her warm throughout the entire winter, yet it just left her soul shivering.

"I thought we discussed this," a voice said. Her heart leaped, and for a moment, she thought he had come to find her, come to confess that he had not meant to push her away, giving her the true explanation for that night on the balcony. But as she turned and looked up at the terrace, it was not Nathaniel standing there.