Ellie looked up at him. “They might find they could be good friends. We have become just that.”
He took her hand and slipped it through his arm. “Very good friends, indeed.”
His words warmed her. And yet, she felt a twinge of disappointment. They were friends, and she was grateful for that. Her feelings, though, tiptoed beyond friendship. She wasn’t entirely certain what to do with that realization.
They had not resumed their circuit of the room long when she felt Newton tense.
“What has happened?” she asked quietly.
“My parents have arrived.” He motioned subtly toward a sophisticated couple coming in their direction. Had he not identified them as his mother and father, she would likely have been able to guess. There was a resemblance in him to both of them.
“Would it be best if I stepped away?” she asked.
“I would appreciate having you here for moral support,” he said. “But I also do not wish for you to be made uncomfortable. I will defer to whichever you prefer.”
She squared her shoulders. “I will not abandon you.”
A nearly invisible but heartwarming change came over him. He stood a little taller, a little more confidently, and he watched his parents’ approach with less uncertainty.
“Good evening, Mother and Father,” he greeted. “I had hoped to see you here this evening.”
“We had hoped to see you,” his mother said. “You are so seldom home. It seems the Upper Assembly Rooms are the only place we see you any longer.”
While it was something of a complaint, it was not offered in the same tone of insult Ellie’s family used.
“I have been enjoying myself,” Newton said. “When you suggested earlier that I enjoy Bath and take advantage of the society here, I confess I balked a little. I’m grateful now to have been pushed toward it.”
Ellie nodded inwardly. He had quite expertly wielded his shield, shifting the complaint to a compliment.
“Pleased to hear it,” his father said. The elder Mr. Hughes looked to Ellie briefly. “I believe you are Miss Elfrida Napper.”
Newton immediately jumped into the gap. “Forgive me. I have neglected introductions. Mother, Father, this is, indeed, Miss Elfrida Napper of Shropshire. Miss Ellie, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.”
Bows and curtsies accompanied the expected greetings.
“I had hoped to come here to see you dancing with Miss Lancaster,” Mrs. Hughes said. “You seem to have developed a friendship and connection with her. She’s quite an exceptional young lady.”
“We have indeed formed a friendship,” Newton said. “I have missed the company of my sisters since they were married. In Miss Lancaster, I have found something of that connection again.”
More redirection expertly deployed.
His parents hesitated but a moment.
His father took up the discussion. “Miss Lancaster has a significant group of companions. Have all of them come to take on the role of sister in your mind?”
“I find myself far less heartbroken at the infrequency of my interactions with my sisters. And I find myself no longer lacking for Society. I’m pleased to report your plans have gone excellently.”
Newton was doing remarkably well. Artemis’s tutoring in boldness had benefited him also.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I hear the opening strains of the Roger de Coverley, and I have promised that dance.”
His mother’s expression turned intrigued. “To whom have you promised it?”
Newton set his hand on hers. “To Miss Ellie.”
He left no opportunity for objections but simply walked away as if he had all the right in the world to do so. He did, of course. Parents often forgot that their children, once grown, deserved to have the living of their own lives.
“That was quite well done, Newton,” she whispered. “If you and I are not careful, we will find ourselves considered people capable of deciding our own futures.”
