And Then She Fell(38)
“Ah.” With James’s help, she sat up; she’d been leaning into him. His lips appeared softer than usual, his hair disarranged—had she done that?
He looked out at the gathering, then grimaced and met her gaze. “I just remembered—her ladyship has decided to enliven the countdown to midnight and the unmasking with fireworks. The twelfth rocket will be fired at midnight.”
She sighed, but not unhappily; pleasured satisfaction sang in the sound. “We’d better go out.”
“Sadly, yes.” James settled his mask, then rose and held out his hand.
She resettled her mask, too, then laid her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet.
He met her gaze, then raised her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and said, “We can talk tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you in the park.”
“Earlier. I usually ride twice a week, at about eight o’clock.”
The curve of his lips deepened. “In that case, I’ll meet you at eight by Rotten Row.”
She nodded, then faced forward and walked beside him as he led her to the glass doors, opened one, and escorted her through and into the crowd thronging the terrace flags. She needed to think about what they’d just done, of what it meant, of what she’d learned, and what they’d both intended. And then they needed to talk, yes, but as she couldn’t yet corral her wits sufficiently to think at all, tomorrow was the perfect time for that.
As everyone else had their eyes on the heavens, oohing and aahing at the pyrotechnical display, no one noticed them joining the gathering. Still smiling with a species of reckless delight, she stood at the side of the crowd, and with James beside her, directed her gaze upward, too.
The second rocket soared into the firmament and burst in a glory of red and gold sparks.
A conflagration of other fireworks filled the moments between each rocket; the countdown steadily progressed, the guests taking up a chant, counting the rockets one by one.
Then, at last, to an eruption of cheers and applause, the twelfth rocket shot high overhead and exploded, raining silver and gold over the gardens.
Smiling, laughing, everyone threw back their hoods and untied their masks. Gaily turning to each other, looking about, people started hunting for acquaintances in the crowd.
“No need for us to find anyone else.” James smiled at Henrietta as she turned to him, her delicate features once more fully revealed.
She smiled back, but sighed. “I should leave soon. My parents will expect me home shortly.”
“I may as well go, too.” Flinging his domino back over his shoulders, he made a gallant show of offering his arm. “We can track down Lady Hamilton and take our leave together.”
Henrietta grinned, placed her hand on his arm, and together they turned—
The young lady alongside Henrietta backed into her.
“Oh! I say!” The young lady whirled and proved to be the lovely Cassandra Carmichael. “I’m terribly sorry. Have I caused any harm?”
Smiling, Henrietta shook her head. “None whatever.”
Cassandra introduced herself and Henrietta did the same, then she introduced James to Miss Carmichael, who smiled with transparently sincere delight; it was no difficulty to see why she was considered one of the catches of the season.
“And this”—Miss Carmichael waved over her shoulder—“is . . .” Glancing back, she broke off. “Oh.”
The gentleman who had been standing with her had turned and was already some paces away, making his way through the crowd.
Cassandra smiled indulgently. “Someone must have summoned him.” Shrugging, she laughingly shook her head. “It happens all the time—he’s in such demand. You’ll have to excuse him.”
They shook hands and parted. Turning, Cassandra started tacking through the crowd in the wake of her errant partner. Steering Henrietta toward the house, James softly snorted. “She’ll make some politician an excellent wife.”
Henrietta laughed. “We can only hope Sir Peter appreciates her.”
“Was that him?”
“I assume so. I’m not that familiar with him, truth be told. Ah—there’s Lady Hamilton.”
Together they made their way through the crowd, waited in line to take leave of their hostess, then James handed Henrietta into her parents’ carriage, smiled and saluted her, then shut the door.
As the carriage pulled away, Henrietta sank back with a sigh.