The Secret of Pembrooke Park(62)

Leah nodded and then looked at him with empathetic eyes. “Forgive me, William. Here I am feeling sorry for myself, while you . . .” She winced. “Is it difficult seeing Rebekah again?”

“Not too bad.” He pulled a face, not wanting to talk about the painful past. “Now. Let’s go kick up our heels and show the world how resilient we Chapmans are.”

Leah managed a wobbly grin, then stilled, staring across the hall through the open door beyond. “That woman. I know her, don’t I?”

William turned to look. He saw Mrs. Webb conversing with Andrew’s father, neither of them wearing masks. “That is one of Andrew’s aunts. We met her at his welcome home dinner. But I’m surprised you would know her, as you weren’t there.”

His sister stared at the woman, frowning in concentration. “I’m not certain I do. But there’s something . . . familiar about her.”

“Shall we go over and meet her?”

Leah adamantly shook her head. “No.”

“You could take off your mask now, you know,” William said gently. “Nearly everyone else has by now.”

“That’s all right. I’m more comfortable this way. And we won’t be staying much longer, will we? Shall I see if Miss Foster is ready to leave? After this dance with her old friend?”

After their dance, Gilbert escorted Abigail to the side of the room and excused himself to speak to Mr. Morgan senior, his host.

Leah approached surreptitiously and whispered, “Miss Foster, will you be ready to leave soon?”

Abigail looked at her in surprise and concern. “If you like. Why? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I—”

“Miss Chapman, there you are,” Andrew Morgan called, striding over to join them. “Tell me I am not too late to claim a dance. I have been dreadfully occupied with host duties all evening but am free at last. Please say you will dance with me?”

“But . . .” Leah hesitated, looking at Abigail for help. “I think we are leaving. Are we not, Miss Foster?”

Seeing Mr. Morgan’s crestfallen expression, Abigail hurried to say, “That’s all right. I can wait another set if you are engaged. In fact I shall enjoy watching you dance and seeing the fruits of our little lessons at Pembrooke Park.”

Gilbert returned to her side. “No sitting out for you, Miss Abby. If no other man has been wise enough to snap you up, then I insist you dance again with me.”

Abigail glanced quickly around the room and saw William Chapman speaking gravely to Andrew’s widowed sister. At that moment, Mrs. Morgan appeared with young Miss Padgett in tow and presented her to Mr. Chapman as a potential dance partner. She then took her daughter’s arm and led her away.

Abigail returned her gaze to Gilbert. “All right,” she agreed.

Mr. Morgan clapped Gilbert on the back. “Good man, Scott. Knew I liked you.”

“Oranges and Lemons” was called, a square-set dance for four couples. Gilbert offered Abigail his arm and led her onto the floor. Around the ballroom, couples grouped together. Abigail and Gilbert found themselves with Andrew Morgan and Leah, William Chapman with Miss Padgett, and a fourth couple they did not know.

The music began. Gilbert reached out and took Abigail’s hand, and around the square the other couples joined inside hands as well. She liked the feel of her gloved hand in his, his familiar smile, the comfortable way he held her gaze without awkwardness. As they danced and laughed with the others, she felt a thread of their old camaraderie vibrate to life, tighten, and pull. She had missed it. Missed him.

The couples stepped forward and back twice, then released hands. Each honored his partner, then turned to honor his corner. The men joined hands and circled around before bowing to their partners, then their corners once more. Then the ladies followed suit.

“Lovely partner, Mr. Chapman,” Abigail said when the dance brought them together.

He nodded. “I agree.” He held her hand a little longer than the dance required and looked into her eyes. “Though not as pretty as my first.”

The pattern was then repeated in the opposite direction. When Gilbert reclaimed Abigail’s hand at last, he said, “I’d forgot what a good dancer you are.”

She caught Mr. Chapman’s eye across the square. “I’ve had quite a bit of practice lately.”

Gilbert smiled. “It shows.”

Abigail now and again glanced at Andrew Morgan and Leah as they danced. The man couldn’t take his eyes off her, masked or not. Leah, for her part, tried in vain to suppress the smile on her pretty face. It was the happiest Abigail had ever seen her.

Before they parted for the night, Gilbert asked Abigail to name a time for him to call the following day. They settled on two o’clock, though Abigail said she would be at her leisure all afternoon.

He bowed over her hand, then looked up at her, eyes sparkling. Abigail’s heart squeezed to see such warmth and fondness in Gilbert’s eyes. It had been too long.

Don’t be a simpleton. He is just being friendly. She reminded herself that she was the only person Gilbert really knew there, so of course he would seek her out. They were comfortable with each other. They had history. Their families were old friends. She told herself all this with her practical sensible mind, but her foolish heart still beat a little too hard.