The Bad Luck Bride (The Brides of St. Ives #1)(65)
“My darling, you’re not listening to me at all.”
Alice looked up to see that indulgent smile on Northrup’s face that she’d seen so many times, as if he were looking at a silly child who believed in fairies. “I was not, my lord. I do apologize.”
“I noticed Lord Berkley has not visited with your parents this evening. I do hope that means he has turned his attention away from you. It was rather disconcerting, you know, to think your parents could be swayed in favor of another suitor. After all, we are practically engaged.”
Alice found herself shaking her head. “No, my lord, we are not.” Dancing at the John Knill ball was not the place to formally end things with Lord Northrup, so Alice gave him a small smile meant to lessen the blow of her words. Northrup tightened his lips slightly, but other than that did not react to her words. She imagined he still thought he needed to grovel for missing their wedding.
“Of course. I understand. I only hoped that we could have come to a resolution by now, given my perfectly reasonable explanation for having missed the ceremony.” What started off as a gentle discourse ended with clipped words that clearly showed he was losing his patience.
“I’m glad we are in accordance then,” Alice said, choosing to misunderstand his tone. “If you don’t mind, I would like to end our dance a bit early. These shoes.” She grimaced to show she was in pain, and he led her to her parents, who still stood together at the edge of the dancing. Instead of glaring at Henderson, they were now glaring at Lord Berkley, who seemed to be enthralled with Harriet’s sister Clara.
After Northrup left her side, her mother leaned toward her. “Lord Northrup seems out of sorts. Is everything well between you two?” her mother asked, and Alice nearly laughed aloud at how transparent her mother was. Lord Berkley could be out of the race, it seemed, and now they were happy to bet on the other horse once again.
“Nothing that cannot be resolved,” Alice said, trying to be as truthful as possible. She could hardly announce that she was in love with Henderson and he had all but proposed to her. This would require some patience and time, for she knew as much as her parents admired Henderson, they did not see him as potential husband material. As the granddaughter of a duke and an earl, she would be expected to marry a titled man or at least one from a titled family. Not only was Henderson a bastard, he was the bastard of two commoners, so far below her own station it was nearly unthinkable that she consider such a marriage. But she was more than considering it.
She was looking forward to it.
Hugging the joy that threatened to burst forth, Alice couldn’t help but allow something of what she was feeling to show on her face as she watched Henderson on the other side of the room. He was looking at her, his gaze intense, and she smiled at him just to let him know all was well. Then he motioned his head to the right. The doors that led to the terrace were to his right.
As she watched, he slowly strolled to the French doors, pulled one open, and stepped out into the darkness. Alice thought her heart might jump right out of her chest. How on earth could she casually make her way to the terrace with her parents seemingly watching her like two hawks?
“Aren’t you two going to dance?” she asked, trying to think of some way she could rid herself of her parents without seeming obvious.
Elda gave Richard a look and her father let out a sigh. “Very well. My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?” he asked formally, and Elda let out a laugh.
“It would be my pleasure. But unfortunately, my dance card is quite full,” Elda said, pointing to her imaginary dance card, which her father pretended to take from her and rip into tiny pieces.
With that, he brought his wife onto the dance floor with a wink for Alice, which only made her feel guilty for her subterfuge.
Are you really going to do this?
She knew what would happen if she met Henderson outside. They would kiss and he would declare his love for her again and Alice knew this time she would do the same. When she’d gone to his room all those nights ago, she truly hadn’t realized just what might happen. She knew it was wrong and risqué, but this was Henderson and they’d hardly shared more than a kiss. Yes, she’d gone to say good-bye, and yes, she realized they might kiss—and perhaps a bit more. But in all her imaginings she had not thought the evening would end as it had, with them naked in bed and with her nearly losing her virginity.
This time, she knew precisely what she was doing. Certainly, they would not make love, not at the John Knill ball, but this was much more calculated on Alice’s part. She knew she was going out to the terrace to declare herself, and she knew they would kiss and plan and scheme and try to come up with a way to make her parents agree to their match.
Giving her parents a fond look, Alice made her way to the French doors where Henderson had just disappeared. She stood there with her back to the door, her hand on the latch, and watched the dancers twirling by, her heart beating hard in her chest. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, she pushed down the latch and slipped outside, keeping her eyes on her parents who were on the farthest part of the dance floor. Thankfully, they seemed absorbed in conversation and were not looking around, but rather at each other, so Alice felt confident she had made her escape without being seen. The cool air washed over her as she stepped into the darkness.
The terrace was narrow and stretched the length of the large home. Looking left then right, Alice took only one tentative step before a large, warm hand grasped her upper arm and pulled her swiftly and surely away from the light of the ballroom. She followed Henderson willingly, trying not to laugh aloud. Had she ever felt this happy in her life?