Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine #3)(34)
Gerard stepped into the room. His concerned gaze moved from Francesca to Ian and back to Francesca again.
“Ian. This is quite a surprise.” The two men shook hands and gave one another a half hug of greeting. “We’re all extremely relieved to see you.”
“Gerard,” Ian greeted solemnly.
Gerard’s gaze slid over to Francesca. “Are you all right?” Gerard asked, and it was clear he was asking her, not his cousin.
She nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to go back down.”
Gerard seemed uncertain when neither she nor Ian moved. He must have sensed the palpable tension swirling in the air.
“We have a lot to discuss,” Gerard told Ian. “We’ve all been worried sick.”
Ian’s eyes gleamed as he glanced between his cousin and Francesca, but he didn’t reply.
“I’ll wait for you in the hallway, Francesca,” Gerard said.
“Thank you,” she said.
That strangling silence settled again when Gerard walked into the hall, leaving the door open.
“Excuse me,” Francesca muttered, knowing there was nothing left to say. She was foolish to wait for anything. He remained unmoving when she walked past him.
“Francesca.”
She paused before she reached the door, her back remaining to him. Her breath burned in her lungs.
“You may not wear the ring, but you’re here in my grandparents’ home. You’re wearing the dress I sent.”
She turned in amazement. “What makes you think I knew who sent it?” she demanded, her cheeks flushing with anger. Or was it embarrassment?
“You knew. Or at least you thought you knew before you second-guessed yourself. You know I never liked to leave you unprepared for any event where you might question yourself.”
She gave a shuddering gasp. He hadn’t said it cockily. He’d just stated it as an established fact. Damn him. He’d always read her like a book. What he’d said was true, of course. She’d recognized his taste in the dress. Her thoughts had immediately leapt to him when she’d read the message. Some part of her had realized the perfection of the gift suggested an intimate knowledge of her body . . . her person. But it was more than that. It struck her heavily for the first time that her actions for the past few weeks were far from being that of a person who had given up on her lover. She was staying with his grandparents in his childhood home and she had spent a great deal of time and effort on following through on what she believed would be his wishes for Noble Enterprises. Hadn’t she hungrily eaten up the sights of his youth during her tour of Belford Hall, imagined him as a child, that distrustful, withdrawn boy slowly coming out of his shell, pictured him as a man filling even the most grand of the rooms with his bold presence?
If the fact that she’d agreed to sleep in his bed at the penthouse didn’t prove his point, she didn’t know what did. She hadn’t entirely given up hope.
God, she was a fool.
Unwilling—and unable—to see the fierce pain in his eyes anymore, she turned and fled the room.
* * *
She thought maybe she’d never smiled more, and certainly never so unnaturally, when she went down to the Anniversary Ball with Gerard. It somehow seemed like a personal mission to show that she could hold her own in these circumstances.
The party was in full swing by the time Gerard escorted her downstairs, a small orchestra filling the house with music. Even through her shock and disquietude, Francesca wasn’t immune to the beauty of the transformed ballroom. James and Anne certainly knew how to throw a “do,” as Anne had called it. The already beautiful, white, wood-paneled room with enormous fireplace had been transformed into an ice palace. Round tables that seated eight were set up around the periphery of the large space, each of them with a fantastic, lit “ice” chandelier hovering above it, all of them unique and exquisitely beautiful. An elaborate, crystal candlelit bar was at one end of the room, a buffet table on the opposite would serve a late dinner in a few hours. James and Anne were just finishing their solo anniversary dance to kick off the ball when she walked in on Gerard’s arm. Other couples were starting to join them on the dance floor.
“Shall we?” Gerard asked, nodding toward the dance floor.
“I’d love to,” she said a little too brightly. She could tell from his quirked brows that he was concerned by her brittle animation. When he tried to bring up the topic of Ian’s return while they danced, she made an abrupt observation on the beauty of the room. He seemed to take her hint, and kept things light for the remainder of the dance.
At some point, she wondered if Ian had known precisely what he was doing by sending her this backless dress. She sensed his gaze on her bare skin as Gerard and she circled on the dance floor. She ignored the sensation, continuing her conversation with Gerard with a fierce determination that hardly matched their lighthearted topic.
She spotted Lucien and Elise sitting at a table when Gerard led her off the dance floor. Relieved to see Ian wasn’t there, she went to join them while Gerard went to find a waiter for drinks. She swore she wasn’t looking for Ian in the crowded ballroom, but her gaze immediately found his singular form on the dance floor, his grandmother in his arms.
“No one can make Anne beam the way Ian can,” Gerard observed with a smile as he arrived at the table, two waiters on his heels, one waiter carrying a bucket, champagne, and four glasses, another a platter of hors d’oeuvres and iced caviar. Her brow furrowed. Had there been a note of bitter envy in his tone? She wasn’t entirely surprised. Only Ian could be so rude as to leave his grandparents worried and anxious for half a year, only to return and have them thrown in an ecstasy of happiness at the sight of him. Besides, it wasn’t as if what Gerard said wasn’t completely true, Francesca thought as she gave a reluctant sideways glance at Ian’s striking profile. The countess looked especially diminutive next to his tall form, both of them moving gracefully on the dance floor. She’d never seen Anne look so happy, so relieved, and she stared up at her grandson, sometimes solemn as they conversed, sometimes smiling and laughing. No, she understood Anne’s relief, empathized with it. Anne had lost her only daughter this year. She was likely feeling light-headed with relief to know her only grandson was alive and healthy.