The Season(43)

“More than put out,” she replied. “Livid.”

“A choice word.”

“So what’s your second suggestion?”

“Tread lightly.”

“That’s it? That’s the best advice you can give me?”

“All right, tread very lightly.”

thirteen

Alex did walk in the gardens that evening—alone.

She snuck out not long after the debacle with Blackmoor, shaking with fury. She was furious with him for being so boorish, furious with herself for being so quick to rise, and furious with Freddie for seeming to understand everything that was happening—when she didn’t even know what was happening at any given moment.

She trudged up the garden path, feeling more miserable by the moment as she moved farther from the house.

She really shouldn’t have mentioned the balcony in front of Stanhope. Not that she was worried that he would tell anyone—despite Blackmoor’s opinion of him, Alex knew Freddie had a strong sense of right and it simply wouldn’t cross his mind to do or say anything that would impugn her honor.

No, she shouldn’t have said anything about the balcony because she should have known it would insult and offend Blackmoor. He hated to be caught unawares, prided himself on being able to predict the trajectory of a conversation, and she’d ambushed him—not only because she’d said it in front of Stanhope, but because she’d said it at all—breaking their clear unspoken agreement never to discuss it again.

Perhaps that was what bothered her so much…the fact that he was thoroughly prepared to forever ignore the fact that for one fleeting moment, they might have been more than friends. Not that she wanted that. Or did she? No! Certainly not. And even if she did, she most certainly did not want to marry, which meant she couldn’t very well go kissing him on balconies. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Of course, she did wish they’d kissed that one time. She was very curious about this part of the whole dilemma. And now it was all she thought about when she thought about him. She sighed. “Oh, Alexandra. How have you become such a complete ninny?”

The whispered question hung in the air—no answer springing immediately to mind. She sighed again heavily and took a seat on one of the marble benches that were distributed about the Salisbury gardens. She pulled her slippered feet up beneath her gown, wrapping her arms about her knees.

She could hear the faint sounds of the ball in the distance, laughter and chatter intermingled with the notes of a country dance, and she wondered if Vivi and Ella were dancing, and with whom. The quiet sounds were matched by the dim light spilling across the gardens and allowing her to just barely see in the darkness. She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes, wondering how long she would be able to stay outside the ball before someone realized she was missing and came looking for her. She was going to have to make her way back at some point and seek out someone to escort her home—if she knew one thing, she knew she would not ask Blackmoor to perform the task.

She heard a rustle behind her and she stood nervously, knowing that she could find herself in rather a lot of trouble in the event she were discovered by a single gentleman. She peered into the darkness beyond as a female figure appeared, rushing up the garden path and muttering to herself. Squinting, Alex recognized Ella—clearly wrapped up in her own thoughts and not looking where she was going.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” Alex didn’t hide the surprise in her tone as she stepped into her friend’s path.

The question caught Ella unaware and, with an extraordinarily loud shriek, she jumped into the air, terrified. The sight was so comical that Alex doubled over with welcome laughter.

When she straightened again, Ella was holding her hand to her chest, waiting for her heart to stop racing. She said sternly, “That wasn’t as amusing as you seem to think.”

Alex smirked at her friend. “That’s because you were on the wrong end of the hilarity. You are incredibly well met, Ella.”

“What are you doing out here?” Ella had recovered and was back to her inquisitive self.

“I asked you that first, if you’ll recall.”

“Vaguely. That happened just as you took a dozen years off my life?”

“Just then, yes.”

“I rather think that you should tell me first. Considering you terrified me and then laughed at me.”

“It’s a ridiculous and somewhat lengthy story that makes me appear alternately unpleasant and irrational. I’d rather not discuss it at this particular moment.”

Ella cocked her head. “That sounds like a very interesting story. I will allow you to postpone sharing it only because I have a very interesting story of my own.”

“And this is why I adore you. Not only do you spare me embarrassment, you do it in the most entertaining of ways.”

“‘Tis true.”

Alex resumed her seat on the bench and patted the space next to her. “Join me, friend. I welcome your allegedly interesting story.”

Ella seated herself beside Alex and began, “I was avoiding the next dance on my card—”

“With whom?”

“Lord Grabeham.”

“Aah…Grabhands.” Alex nodded with an air of understanding.

“Quite.” Ella pressed on, “So I escaped to the balcony, where I saw Baron Montgrave slipping off into the garden—”