Chapter 20

MAB SPENT THE FOLLOWING morning in the library, flicking through books with Tilly, and the afternoon walking through the gardens with Emily, Diane and Deidre, each of whom speculated the increased likelihood that Tilly – despite having gone through the awful ordeal of the storm – might actually join them at the soiree that evening.

The likelihood only increased when Tilly quietly slipped into the dining room that evening and took a seat beside Mab. The other women, not wanting to spook Tilly, dutifully directed conversation to include her, without directly addressing her.

This evening, Tilly had pulled the strands of black hair away from her pale face and had clipped them neatly to the temples of her head with small, ornate mother-of-pearl clasps. The result was astounding. No longer did Tilly look like a ghostly form ready to bring upon the doom of mankind. Instead, she looked positively lovely. She wore a simple, but nonetheless exquisite, sky-blue dress with flax flowers embroidered on the hem.

Mab let out an involuntary sigh, which she was very thankful none of the other women heard. She had planned on retiring for the evening and had been hoping to have tea and scones again with Tilly. But it would seem that Tilly had indeed found the confidence to attend the soiree, and Mab certainly wouldn’t let her do it alone.

She just wished that she’d put a little bit more effort into her own outfit, as there wouldn’t be enough time for her to change. She had haphazardly pinned her hair enough to keep it out of her face, the remaining curls left to billow down her back, free from any restraint. She wore the wonderful emerald-green dress that she thought made her look like a regal Scottish queen, though her father always called her “Boudicca” whenever she wore it.

She bit her lip at the thought of her father. After all the excitement of the past day, she’d forgotten to be angry with him. She pondered if he was still angry with her. She’d never seen him hold his resolve for so long, and half wondered why he had let her go off into the unknown when it had apparently only taken him a morning to reconsider his hastily accepted offer of Mr Alabaster’s proposal.

Mab wondered if he’d instantly regretted his decision to send her off and whether he’d spent the last week pacing the floors, wondering how he’d get her back. Mab should have been ecstatic at the thought of her father, because of his own haughtiness, regretting his decision and frantically worrying about the welfare of his only child, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to enjoy the thought. She wondered if she should write him a letter. She certainly wouldn’t let him know that, near-death experiences aside, she was rather enjoying herself here. But she supposed letting him know that she wasn’t dead would be a suitable compromise and, perhaps, be the first step in repairing their relationship.

“Mab?” Tilly asked so quietly that Mab barely heard her.

“Sorry, Tilly,” she answered. “I was in a world of my own.”

“That’s alright. I was just w-wondering if you, er, were planning on attending the soiree this evening?”

“Only if you are, dear,” Mab answered.

Tilly bit her lip, unaware of the hush that had fallen over the dining table. “I think I would like to.”

WITHIN HALF AN HOUR , the ladies had all congregated in the ballroom. The familiar folk music band were setting up, and the servants were depositing the last of the corsages, bowls of punch and nibbles out on the various tables scattered about the room. Tilly stayed by Mab’s side as the other girls quietly talked among themselves.

“Are you excited for your first party?” Emily asked Mab. Emily wore a wonderfully ornate mauve and gold-trimmed dress.

“Excited may be an overstatement,” Mab said.

“What kind of man do you think might catch your eye?” Deidre asked. Tonight, Deidre wasn’t dressed in her nightwear but donned a delightful dress that Mab thought might be more in keeping with a character from one of her pirate novels than a lady attending a ball.

“Well ...” Mab pondered for the briefest moment before continuing. “I think I should like to meet a man who is good with his hands.”

“David is very good with his hands – but you can’t have him,” Deidre joked, causing Emily, Diane, Mab and Tilly to stare at her dumbfounded.

Diane, who was in a simple pale pink dress that brought out the deep ebony of her irises, made a series of hand gestures that Mab, and presumably Deidre, couldn’t follow.

“She said ‘There’s no need to be so crude’ and I quite agree,” said Emily, though with a good-natured tone.

“I thought you were supposed to be deaf and mute,” Deidre quizzed, a grin tugging on the corner of her lip.

Diane poked her in the ribs, resulting in a wickedly mischievous smile etching its way across Deidre’s face.

Emily interpreted the gestures with an equally playful grin. “She said ‘I have eyes, I can still lip-read, you fool!’ ”

While the words of the exchange might be interpreted by some as being in ill taste, Mab had a sneaking suspicion that she was intruding on an inside joke. She vividly recalled when her eldest brother had lost his grip on a branch, fallen out of a tree and broken his leg. He had been so miserable for the first week, bedridden in the quietness of his room, that no amount of niceties could make him feel better. It wasn’t until he’d been given a pair of wooden crutches and could hobble about, and Mab (followed almost immediately by Edwin and Jasper) started calling him names such as “Captain Clops-along” or “King Can’t-hold-on” and dramatically shooing him away from any tree in his immediate vicinity, that they finally got a smile from him.

The doors to the ballroom opened and a guard stepped in. “Ladies, the men will be arriving in fifteen minutes. For those of you who wish to retire to your rooms, please do so now. For those who are staying, please don’t forget to choose your corsage.”

Mab cautiously looked at Tilly. Emily, Diane and Deidre tactfully made their way to the table with the flowers allowing Tilly some breathing space.

Tilly chewed her top lip. “Do you think he might be here? Benedict?”

“Possibly. Do you think you’re ready to talk to him?” Mab asked.

Tilly went on to chew her bottom lip. After a moment, she continued, “Maybe not t-talk to him. No. But I think I might like to see him again, from afar, and take it from there.”

The pair walked to the table, and Tilly gently picked up a lily corsage. Mab hovered over the flowers. She definitely didn’t want a rose to wear. But she also might decide to talk to some of the men should Tilly decide to retire early, but strictly on a friendship basis. A marigold corsage it was.

After fixing their chosen flowers to their wrists, Mab and Tilly wandered over to the nearest table of drinks. A servant handed them two flutes of champagne, each with a strawberry floating in it.

“Shall we find a place to sit?” Mab asked.

Tilly nodded and scanned the room. “How about over there?” she asked, pointing at the opposite corner to where the musicians were.

“A perfect choice,” Mab said.

“Thank you,” replied Tilly as they made their way to a pair of plush armchairs. “I thought we’d be far enough away from the music to talk without having to raise our voices, and it would give us the chance to watch the, er, crowd.”

Just as they settled into their seats, the first of the carriages could be heard approaching. The band began a jaunty tune, and the women flustered to hurriedly fix themselves, a final few stragglers dashing to the table of flowers to pick their corsages.

Mab felt an odd flutter in her stomach. She hadn’t let herself think of him the entire day.

She hadn’t seen the colour of his eyes in the stack of peat by her fire. She hadn’t allowed her mind to wander back to his defined legs, and she most certainly hadn’t thought of his large hands gently running over her skin.

He would be no good for her, she told herself.

He was clearly a gentleman, if his clothes had been anything to go by. She needed less of the gentle and more of the man if she was to be happy.

Before Mab could coach herself further, the doors opened.

Almost thirty men poured in, and Mab nipped her arm when she realised she was scanning the crowd for him .

Tilly sucked in a breath, and Mab followed the line of her gaze. Benedict stood, searching the crowd and biting his lip. The instant his eyes met Tilly’s, his face broke out into the most heart-warming smile Mab had ever seen. He took a step forwards, causing Tilly to stiffen beside Mab, when a large hand wrapped around his arm.

Mab couldn’t help but let her eyes drift up and meet the—Was that an intense scorn William was casting her way ?

Mab’s brows furrowed.

William’s dark brows were knotted, his lips pushed together, and his eyes narrowed in on Mab.

What had she done?

Oh , she thought, instantly remembering, perhaps almost killing a man wouldn’t exactly make her his most favourite person.

She should feel relieved. If he felt that level of contempt for her, then it would make ignoring him that much easier.

But a strange niggling sensation tugged at her stomach. Had she expected him to fawn after her? Had she hoped for it?

William tore his death stare from Mab and whispered something in Benedict’s ear. Benedict’s eyes flicked to Tilly’s wrist and his bright, excited grin settled into a platonic smile. He nodded at Tilly, then at Mab, before him and William disappeared into the crowd.

Tilly let out a breath. “That was i-intense.”

“Do you want to leave?” Mab asked.

“Not just yet,” Tilly replied.

And so, they sat and watched. Over the course of an hour, Benedict seemed unable to help himself from stealing a glance at Tilly at every opportunity. Tilly’s mouth twitched into a smile every time she caught one of his none-too-subtle glances, and she unconsciously twisted her corsage to the point that, by the end of the hour, her lilies had no petals left.

Mab felt William’s stare bore into her, but every time she snapped her eyes to him, he was either in an intense conversation with another woman, or feigning interest in whatever object was closest to hand, with the remnants of a scowl still evident on his face.

Why did he get a monopoly on being aggravated? It could just as easily have been her that was knocked unconscious in the tumble. The more she thought about it, the more irritated she grew. By the end of the hour, Mab was beyond anger. She felt downright malevolent.

“I think I will r-retire now,” Tilly said as she pushed herself off the chair. “Will you join me?”

Mab stood, but no matter which way she twisted, she managed to catch William’s eyes on her. The instant their stares met, William’s eyes narrowed in contempt, and he threw himself wholeheartedly into the conversation he’d been having with Emily. Mab’s blood boiled, scorching through her veins. That man had no business whatsoever being angry at her, talking to her friends to make her jealous—

Jealous ?

No. She couldn’t possibly be jealous ... could she?

She quickly tested the theory. Her heart felt like it was trying to climb up her throat to escape, her stomach felt somehow both hollow and yet filled with an intense fluttering, and when she looked at her friend, she wished Emily was talking to anyone else in the room but William. William, with his chiselled features, tall, broad stature and perfect lips that she could imagine pressing against her—

She stopped herself from continuing that line of thought. Not only because it was highly inappropriate in such a crowded room, but because William had just cast her another subtle glance, and she realised that perhaps his looks weren’t that of contempt.

No. Now that she studied his features, he looked to be almost pained.

A strange sizzling sensation rippled over her skin. Was his pained look because Tilly was wearing a lily corsage and he couldn’t approach the pair? If Mab remained behind, the moment Tilly retired, would William swoop over, press a kiss to her hand and formally introduce himself? A strange giddiness filled Mab at the thought.

No, Mab, you do not enjoy the company of gentlemen , she reminded herself.

But perhaps having this gentleman know a little bit more about her wouldn’t be too bad a thing? When all was said and done, if she wanted to return home, she would have to marry someone. William was the most attractive man in the room – the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life , a little voice in her head corrected her – and she supposed she ought to give him a chance to see if his personality was just as alluring.

A part of her wanted him to be just as villainous and self-serving as the rest of the gentlemen she’d encountered, if only to prove that the stance she’d retained on legally shackling herself to a member of the ton was correct.

But a small part – oh, hell, she could be truthful to herself in her internal musings – a large part of her hoped she was wrong on just this occasion. Because her father was right; no matter how hard Mab wished she lived in a time where women could remain single and independent, that simply would not be an option for her. If she wanted to live any kind of life away from Gaol Manor, she would have to marry.

She very much hoped that William’s personality was just as attractive as the rest of him.

She decided then and there: if William were kind and at least some of his values matched hers, she would be leaving Gaol Manor with him.

In her haughtiness to avoid a marriage to Robert Alabaster, she had forced herself into a corner, and inadvertently taken most of her choices, including the choice to remain an unmarried spinster, away. But her choice on who she could marry from the men at Gaol Manor was still hers, and by God, she was determined to make it count.

“Mab?” Tilly asked.

“I think I will stay,” she replied.

Tilly threw a final glance at Benedict (who seemed to have completely forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to interact with lily wearers in any capacity whatsoever), who met her gaze and waved at her. Tilly’s cheeks reddened, but she returned the wave, which seemed to be noted by almost everyone else in attendance. Tilly didn’t seem to notice that all the pairs and trios subtly threw glances between the young couple standing a room’s width apart from each other.

“Have a good e-evening,” Tilly said to Mab .

Mab watched proudly as Tilly, who no longer scurried but held herself gracefully, walked out of the room.