Chapter Twenty

M irella got ready for tonight’s ball, her excitement greater than it had been on the opening night of the Season. She was going to dance with Lord Bridgewater.

It would be a new start for them.

She dismissed the maid and took a final look in the mirror before she left her bedchamber. Going three doors down, she tapped lightly on her aunt’s door.

Aunt Matty opened her door and said, “Won’t you come in, Mirella? You look as those you need to talk.”

Crossing the threshold, she waited as Aunt Matty closed the door. Without a word, she flung herself into her aunt’s arms, giddy with joy.

Mirella released her aunt, and the older woman chuckled, saying, “I know you are fond of me, but this is more than that, isn’t it?”

“I am to dance with Lord Bridgewater tonight, Aunt. The supper dance. He requested it of me this afternoon.”

“What has changed, my dear? You are radiating happiness.”

“For the last couple of weeks, he has had nothing to do with me. The day he came to tea, he told me he would soon be betrothed to Miss Bowles. He said that he would no longer be asking me to dance with him and could not even be around me.”

Mirella sighed and began pacing the room. “He was doing it all out of a sense of duty, Aunt Matty. Because of his father.”

Her aunt cocked her head. “How so?”

She explained how Lord Bridgewater and Lord Hampton’s closeness had led to them drawing up marriage contracts for two of their children to wed, but Lord Bridgewater had died soon after, not seeing the plan come to fruition.

“Once the new Lord Bridgewater, the current one’s brother, died while racing his phaeton against Lord Hampton, this Lord Bridgewater experienced extreme guilt. I gather he had never been close to his father, who had favored his heir apparent. Out of some misguided sense of duty to his father, Lord Bridgewater wished to unite their families, just as his father had wished would be done years ago. He did not even like Miss Bowles,” Mirella declared.

Aunt Matty nodded sagely. “Liking someone has very little to do with wedding them. Surely, you understand that our family is much different from other families in Polite Society.” She paused. “No betrothal was announced between Lord Bridgewater and Miss Bowles, however. And now Lord Bridgewater wishes to dance with you again?”

“Would you believe Miss Bowles fell in love with someone else? How, I cannot imagine, because Lord Bridgewater is a most incredible man. She did, though, and when the marquess told her of their upcoming betrothal? It broke her heart. Lord Bridgewater decided to free her from the agreement, which she had never agreed to in the first place. He said the marriage contracts had yet to be signed, so they were not official—and now they never will be.”

She captured Aunt Matty’s hands in hers. “He wants to woo me. Even when he told me he could no longer see me again—because of his sense of obligation to Miss Bowles—Lord Bridgewater mentioned the day we had spent together at Grasmere. He called it the happiest of his life, and the kisses we shared were memorable.”

A knowing light came into her aunt’s eyes. “So, you have kissed him.”

“Yes,” she declared, not bothering to hide her smile. “He is the most divine kisser, Aunt Matty. I had thought it good that I had been kissed before the Season began, so that when I did kiss another man, I would know what I was doing.”

“And have you done so?”

Mirella shook her head. “I simply couldn’t. I wanted to. I thought that I might compare his kiss to others, but I realized no one else would ever be Lord Bridgewater.” She shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I thought I was destined to be on the shelf the rest of my life because I could not see myself committing to another gentleman.”

“Now, though, you have a new chance. Make a new start with your marquess, Mirella,” her aunt advised. “Obviously, he is a good one. First, he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for family, which you hold dearly. Second, he was gentleman enough to not dally with you while he was wooing another woman. Third, he was wise enough to let go so that both he and Miss Bowles might pursue their own happiness with others.”

“Oh, Aunt Matty, I do love him. I have for the longest time. I do not want to tell him this, however. He knows I seek a love match, and I do not want to pressure him into declaring for me unless he truly does come to love me.”

Her aunt kissed Mirella’s cheek. “I think you very wise, Niece. Get to know him better. Let him come to know you better, as well. Exchange a few more of those marvelous kisses. I have a feeling that Lord Bridgewater will declare for you in the very near future.”

They went downstairs and found James and Sophie waiting. Mama and the captain soon joined them, and they went to the carriage.

On their way to the ball, Mirella said, “I have asked Lord Bridgewater to come to tea tomorrow afternoon. I hope you do not mind.”

Her brother’s brows arched, and she quickly looked to Mama.

“You know you may always ask anyone you wish to stay for tea, my dearest,” Mama told her. “Does that mean Lord Bridgewater might be calling on you tomorrow afternoon?”

“Oh, yes, Mama,” Mirella said fervently. “In fact, I think he will become a regular caller.”

“That is wonderful,” Sophie declared. “I quite like Lord Bridgewater.”

“Why the sudden change?” the captain asked, his brows knitting together.

“I know you are being protective of me, Captain. I am appreciative of it. Lord Bridgewater and I needed a bit of time apart to explore other... friendships. We have mutually decided to spend more time with one another, however.”

The captain nodded, satisfied with her answer. “That sounds as if it might be serious between the two of you, Mirella.”

“I expect it will be,” she said.

“Then you will have my support. Your mother’s, as well,” he assured her.

“And ours,” James declared, warming Mirella’s insides. She had hoped her family would welcome Lord Bridgewater’s pursuit of her.

They arrived at the ball and went through the receiving line. She looked about, not spying the marquess, nerves flitting through her. For a brief moment, a seed of doubt crept in, but she dismissed it. He would be here. He would dance the supper dance with her.

Their group entered the ballroom, and she saw Lord Bishop lingering near the entrance. He had begun paying her special attention during the last few social engagements, and he made his way toward her now.

“Good evening,” he greeted the group, his focus solely on her. “Good evening, Lady Mirella.”

He took her hand and kissed it. I would like to request a dance with you this evening.”

She handed her programme to him and before she could say anything, he had written his name where the supper dance was. Mirella bit her lip, unsure how to handle the matter.

Then a voice said, “You will need to choose another dance, Lord Bishop.”

It was Lord Bridgewater.

“I say, Bridgewater, I got here first. And I will dance with—”

“You signed for the supper dance,” the marquess said. “That is a waltz. Lady Mirella will be dancing all her waltzes with me,” he stated firmly.

For a moment, the two men stared at one another, and Mirella realized they had reached some secret, silent understanding.

“I see,” Lord Bishop said, scratching through his name and glancing to her. “My lady, would you be interested in dancing the opening set with me?”

She smiled at him. “I would delighted to do so, my lord.”

Lord Bishop wrote his name at the top of her programme and instead of returning it to her, handed it to the marquess.

She watched as he scrawled his name next to where Lord Bishop’s had been and also added it to the last dance of the evening. He returned it to her, grinning like a schoolboy.

“I hear you are coming to tea tomorrow afternoon,” James said, looking Lord Bridgewater up and down.

To his credit, the marquess did not flinch under the duke’s scrutiny. “Yes, Your Grace. Lady Mirella was kind enough to ask me to do so. I will be calling upon her tomorrow afternoon and will stay if it is agreeable to you and Her Grace.”

Sophie spoke up. “We would be delighted to share in your company tomorrow, Lord Bridgewater. Is there anything specific you might like for our cook to make for you?”

“I am fond of blueberries,” the marquess revealed. “In scones. Tarts. Even by themselves.”

Sophie smiled sweetly at him. “Then I will make certain Cook prepares something with blueberries in it, my lord.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said graciously and turned back to Mirella. “I will see you later this evening, my lady. I hope you enjoy dancing this evening with your many partners.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, watching him leave the ballroom entirely.

That could mean only one thing.

It was early—and he would be asking no other lady to dance. He was retreating to the card room.

“My,” Mama said. “Lord Bridgewater is making quite a statement.”

“How so?” the captain asked.

Mama explained, “First, Lord Bridgewater was quite assertive, telling Lord Bishop that Mirella is only dancing waltzes with him. Lord Bishop, in turn, will spread that news to the other eligible bachelors who have been vying for Mirella’s hand. Now, he has quit the ballroom entirely, meaning he will be in the card room and not dancing with anyone else.”

The captain nodded in understanding. “So, not only has he declared his affection for our Mirella, Bridgewater is making a deliberate point by not dancing the rest of the evening. I like that,” he proclaimed. “I like him.”

His gaze connected with Mirella’s. “What do you feel about this turn of events, Mirella?”

Her cheeks heated as she said, “I am in favor of them, Captain. Very much so.”

“Then we are, as well,” her stepfather said.

Her dance card filled, not as quickly as it had in the past, though. She understood that Lord Bishop had quickly put out the word that Lord Bridgewater had all but declared for Mirella. The men who signed her programme tonight were a few of the ones who had called upon her previously, but the majority of them were the rogues, gentlemen with a bit of a fast reputation and ones not ready to settle into marriage just yet. Mirella understood that the more serious of her suitors would now fall away, seeking other female companionship at these balls. It would be safe for her to dance with the rakes because not only were they not interested in marriage—they understood that Lord Bridgewater was.

An immense sense of relief flooded her. She would still be able to enjoy dancing at these balls, and yet she—and others—would know of Lord Bridgewater’s extreme interest in her.

It would only be a matter of time before he offered for her. Mirella could only hope that when he did, it would be out of love.

She decided to lose herself in the music, enjoying each dance thoroughly. During the last lively reel, which was played just before the supper dance, she caught sight of Lord Bridgewater on the sidelines with James and the captain. The marquess watched her dancing, a slow smile lighting his handsome face. Mirella danced. Not only for herself. But him.

The reel ended, and she found herself out of breath as she thanked her partner, who returned her to Lord Bridgewater. That, in itself, spoke volumes, and Mirella glanced about the ballroom, seeing hundreds of eyes on the two of them.

“Have you enjoyed yourself this evening, Lady Mirella?” Lord Bridgewater asked.

“Very much so, my lord.”

“I enjoyed watching you dance,” he said, his eyes darkening as he gazed at her.

She knew that meant something. What, she wasn’t exactly sure of, but the marquess looked as if he wished to gobble her up.

Taking her hand and placing it on his sleeve, he led her to the very center of the ballroom, saying, “I do not have to ask if you know that every eye in this room is upon us at the moment.”

Smiling at him, she said, “Yes, I feel them. I do not believe I have ever been such an object of interest by so many.”

“You, my lady, are a diamond of the first water,” he praised. “And long after your beauty fades, your lovely auburn hair turning white and your face lined from the smiles you have given over the years, I will be there. Still looking at you in wonder.”

They weren’t exactly words offering marriage, but they were so much more than that. Lord Bridgewater was telling Mirella that he would be there with her, decades from now.

He placed an arm about her and took her hand in his, and she believed his eyes shined down at her in love.