Page 78 of Sensibly Wed

Chapter25

The Grenville ball progressed into the evening, and despite the interested glances James sent toward various groups of people chatting, he remained stalwartly at my side.

I only imagined my spectacle served to keep curious gossip-seekers away for fear I might be ill.

“I am perfectly content to remain here if you would like to greet your friends,” I said.

He immediately shook his head. “I cannot leave you.”

“Do you expect to remain pasted to my side for the duration of our marriage, or am I to be permitted any time alone?”

“You wish to be alone?”

No, of course not. But I could not very well be the reason James sat in the corner of a small room all evening when there were undoubtedly friends nearby he wished to speak to. I could feel the energy sloughing from him in waves. He was tired of sitting here, and his desire to be elsewhere was not doing my nerves any good.

“Go on,” I continued. “I will walk outside, perhaps, or find Miss Whitstone. I noticed that she walked by the door only a quarter hour ago.”

“Allow me to escort you—”

“I am married now, remember?” I said gently. “I do not need a chaperone.”

James did not look entirely convinced.

“Honest,” I said. “I cannot bear to be treated as an invalid, James. I am perfectly well now. So long as I remain on the fringes of the ballroom, nothing will vex or ruin my peace.”

“If you are certain . . .”

I took his hand and squeezed. The sooner he left, the faster I would be able to find a quiet, lit corner to read. “I will walk out of the parlor with you if that helps you to feel better.”

James nodded and helped me stand. We moved toward the doorway into the larger ballroom when someone called after him. I sensed his hesitation and gave his fingers a quick squeeze before releasing them and letting myself from the room. He would be required to give my apologies, but I was certain he could come up with a reasonable explanation for my disappearance.

Now, to make it outside of the ballroom before bumping into an acquaintance. Or worse, my mother-in-law. I skirted the throngs of people, the book in my reticule heavy against my wrist. The open conservatory was now filled with people, so I turned the other direction through a set of doors and found a refreshment room.

A footman stood behind the table filling glasses of lemonade, and I accepted one, bringing it to my lips while I analyzed my options. A door sat at the far end of the room and an alcove on the other. “Where might I locate the ladies retiring room?” I asked the footman.

“Through that door and straight ahead.”

I followed his directions through the door but turned instead once I reached the empty corridor and let myself into a room just beyond the ladies retiring room. If I found myself somewhere I ought not to be, I could always claim I was lost. It had happened before.

A small fire burned in the hearth of a quaint sitting room, and I noticed at once a chair perfect for my designs. It faced away from the door and would surely hide me were someone to come in, giving me enough time to hide my book before I was found.

Now that I was married, surely there was nothing wrong with being caught alone in a room at a ball.

I uncinched the drawstring on my reticule, making my way over to the small fire. Was there wood nearby? I might need to add a log—

“Oh, dear!” I yelled. Evelina flew from my hands and straight at the man seated in the very chair I’d set out to occupy.

Henry dodged my book, and it flew over the back of his tall, wingback chair and clattered on the floor somewhere behind him. “Blast, Felicity. You frightened me half to death.” He looked over his shoulder. “What did you mean to do? Hit me with a book?”

“Not intentionally, no.” I circled the chair and retrieved my book. The small slip of paper I’d used to mark my place had fluttered to the Aubusson carpet, and I bent to pick it up. It was a note James had written when he left me to go to York, and I shoved it in my reticule.

I circled back to face Henry, and he stood in belated chivalry. “You came to escape the ball?”

“Yes. You as well?”

He lifted the book in his hand. “I had hoped no one would find me here.”

A beat of silence passed over us, and in it a wealth of feelings and possibilities. Henry and I had multiple choices ahead of us. I could leave him, pretending I never came upon him at all. We could leave the room together now and return to the ball. Or . . . we could sit in companionable silence as we often did at Chelton and read.