Chapter 28

Lady Veronica could not ever be a woman described as being taken with superstitions. She did not believe in portents, signs, or anything else of the like. When someone claimed to have felt something in their waters, she was likely to respond with an eyeroll and a sneer. She reasoned that if she were to ever experience such a thing, surely it would have happened when Seth, hear dear boy, was far away. Surely she would have felt that he had made it safely to foreign shores instead of spending weeks in suspense. Surely.

Strangely enough, she had been having one of those odd, premonitory feelings for the past several weeks. She could not rightly put her finger on it, but something was amiss. There was no real evidence, nothing that she could point to and say, "Ah hah! There is The Thing!" It was just a vague nagging at the back of her mind that refused to settle.

With all of the preparations that had to be completed before the ball, she'd had even less time than usual to contemplate what all of this meant. It did not help that Seth was moping about the house, and Catherine seemed more distractible than usual lately. She was inclined to give the latter a bit more leniency, as much was riding upon her decision (Which was pure foolishness, what other possible offers could that girl think that she would possibly receive these days?).

It was not until she was standing in the ballroom, still privately fuming that Seth had chosen Catherine— Catherine! —of all people to open the ball with, that the pieces had begun to come together. It was something in the way in which Seth escorted her lady's companion out onto the floor, the natural way in which his head tilted toward hers, that had sharpened the vague sense of alarm into sharp focus.

They danced together with a familiarity that was upsetting, for Lady Veronica could not begin to imagine where and when they would have done so before this night. It was also upsetting because they looked so happy together; a kind of light seemed to shine from both of them when they smiled at each other. Their faces were suffused with a glad, abiding affection that made anyone who observed it glad that they had.

And Lady Veronica positively hated it.

Something shifted when they were dancing, and the smiles melted away. What was left in their place was something desperate and longing, and that unsettled Lady Veronica more. A dalliance, an inappropriate fondness, these were all things that she could duly manage, and would find their natural end. Unresolved desires, forbidden love…these things were more durable and harder to squash.

Catherine, doing all of them a mercy, had fled the dancefloor and possibly the ballroom altogether. Seth was left alone, staring after her. He clenched his fists, and turned back toward his mother with a mutinous expression. Whatever had passed between them, he clearly blamed her for.

Lady Veronica turned toward Miss Alcott as if they were in discussion, which would blunt much of Seth's ire; it was unthinkable that he would interrupt two ladies simply to argue.

In what was quickly becoming a trend that she positively despised, Seth proved Lady Veronica wrong yet again. "Mother," he said, standing before her tautly, "I must speak with you immediately regarding—"

"Oh, surely it can wait, dear boy," Lady Veronica interrupted, all smiles. She slid her hands around Seth's right arm, which he automatically crooked. "There is someone I wish to introduce you to," she continued, guiding him forward by the elbow. "Seth, may I present Miss Magdalena Alcott? Miss Alcott, my son, the Viscount Cluett," she announced proudly.

The two young people simply stared at one another, Seth blankly, Miss Alcott curiously, assessing. There was a decided lull in the conversation, which caused Lady Veronica to grind her teeth together. Eschewing subtlety, she nudged Seth forward a half-step.

"A pleasure, Miss Alcott," he said at last, but carelessly as if he paid the words no mind.

"Your Lordship," Miss Alcott replied, dropping a curtsy.

"Miss Alcott was just saying what a dash you cut on the dancefloor," Lady Veronica supplied, causing both of the young people to look at her blankly. What is this century, when the old must engage for flirtation on behalf of the young? It is an absurdity! she groused inward, but her face never lost its rigid smile.

"You are fond of dancing, Miss Alcott?" Seth followed up at last, after a subtle pinch on the arm from Lady Veronica.

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose. There is a kind of mathematical purity to it—it's all numbers and angles, no?" Miss Alcott said, tilting her head a little.

"You are a scholar, then?" Seth asked, and Lady Veronica very nearly crumbled in despair. To suggest such a thing of a lady, in a ballroom of all things, it was too much.

"As much as a lady might be permitted, I suppose," Miss Alcott replied easily, looking completely untroubled by the question. "I find facts and figures easier to understand than people, most of the time."

Lady Veronica glanced up to Seth, and found that though his jaw was still showing his irritation through a certain tension, his expression had softened a little into something approaching intrigue. This gave her hope, and she reached forward, snaking her arm through Miss Alcott's.

"Well, that settles it, then," she said, pivoting both young people toward the dancefloor. "I am sure that Seth would like nothing more than to put you at ease, Miss Alcott, as any good host would be keen to."

Seth, his face mutinous, dug in his heels a little. "I am not here to impose a dance upon Miss Alcott," he protested.

"Do not worry, my Lord," Miss Alcott said, leaning around Lady Veronica so that she might address Seth directly. "I have no intention of coercing you, or any gentleman, into a dance he does not wish; I should scarcely suggest such a thing. However," she continued, "it seems likely to me that your mother has some romantic scheme in mind for the two of us, and it might give us respite if we were to simply submit. The price of one dance is small for an evening of peace, no?"

Seth and Lady Veronica both turned to stare at Miss Alcott, who regarded them dispassionately. To her great relief, Lady Veronica could feel Seth begin to laugh before she heard it.

"I suppose it is, at that," he allowed. "Miss Alcott, would you permit me a dance?"

"I would," she answered.

Relieved, Lady Veronica backed away, releasing her iron grip on Seth at last. The two young people stood side-by-side, stiff and formal, with no hint of warmth between them. They were a handsome pair, though they refused to look at one another again. It was stilted and awkward between them, with no further conversation.

There, that is a much better arraignment, Lady Veronica attempted to convince herself, and it was, if she ignored the stony look on her son's face.

* * *

As Seth took his place in the line of dancers, directly across from Miss Alcott, his mind was most decidedly not on the dancing at hand. It was also most definitely not occupied with thoughts of Miss Alcott. He supposed that she must be a charming girl, with material assets of some sort for his mother to be pushing him toward her so insistently, but Seth had no real interest.

Unfortunately for him whenever he sat at the card table, he had no talent for keeping his feelings from his face. Anyone who saw him might guess his true sentiments at any given moment; this proved true for Miss Alcott, who Seth had clearly forgotten was of an especially discerning mind.

"You may put your mind at ease where I am concerned, my Lord," she said abruptly as they circled one another in the opening steps of the dance. "This was not an elaborate ruse to win a dance for myself."

"Didn't think that," Seth answered immediately.

"Then I am correct in thinking that it is something else that troubles you," Miss Alcott stated.

Seth did not answer, for he had no wish to burden this girl, a stranger really, with his troubles. As they danced, Seth could scarcely bring himself to look at her; instead, his head was on a constant pivot, like an owl's.

"She is not here," Miss Alcott murmured suddenly. When Seth turned to face her, surprised, she continued, "That woman you were dancing with earlier? She is not in the ballroom."

"You were watching her?"

"Yes," she replied simply, ducking under Seth's arm and taking his left hand. "I observed the two of you together. Am I correct in thinking that there is some sort of feeling between you?"

Seth paused for a moment, then plunged headlong into honesty. It would do neither of them any favours to be under any illusions. "Yes, though I do not know to what extent," he admitted.

"A great deal, I should think," Miss Alcott said breezily as they promenaded. "You seem very well suited. She's quite beautiful," she added with no malice.

"She is," Seth agreed, feeling awkward. He was not a young buck of society, but even he knew that it was poor form to discuss a woman's beauty while dancing with another woman.

"I suspect that, much like myself, she is a piece of a rather complicated transaction that seems to revolve around you," Miss Alcott continued, nonplussed.

"How do you mean?" Seth asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I am an untitled daughter of a lawyer, who has performed some service for Sir Wright, which has left him in my father's debt," she explained. "Your estate, or possibly your mother directly, is in Sir Wright's debt in some capacity or another."

"I do not wholly follow," Seth admitted, taking Miss Alcott's hands and raising them so that the other couples might pass under them.

"I, myself, don't either, not yet," Miss Alcott agreed. "I believe that I am missing some relevant information. However," she said, intertwining her arm with Seth's so that they might take their turn passing under the others' hands, "there is something odd in all of it."

"Odd?"

"Why should your mother be pleased to see her son, a most eligible young man with title and position, married to the daughter of a solicitor?" Miss Alcott asked simply. "It does not seem likely."

The song ended, and Seth stood for a moment, staring at Miss Alcott. She stared back at him, glancing away once, and then stepping forward. She spoke quietly under the cover of the polite applause for the dancers and musicians alike.

"Come and stand with me by the windows and have a glass of lemonade; it is draughty there, and everyone is avoiding that spot. We shan't be overheard there." And with that, she curtseyed again and made her way over to the place indicated.

Seth stared after her, hesitating. He did not know this strange girl, and he was unsure if he should trust her. For all of her talk of honesty, and frank assessment of her own position, there was still a chance that she was luring him into some kind of romantic plot. He did not trust himself to make this decision.

What would Kitty make of her? his mind asked.

She would like her pert way of speaking, and the way she has fixed her hair. There is nothing else she would need to know , his heart answered. That seemed as good of a guarantee as any.

Taking a deep breath, Seth steeled himself for whatever was to come. Miss Alcott awaited him; Seth suspected that, whatever she would say next, it would decide much for him.