“What is it?” he asked softly.
“I do not believe it,” she murmured, jerking her chin upwards.
A second later, Timothy discovered what had affected her so, for a figure stepped in front of them, their eyes going straight to Lady Rebecca. Timothy recognized the figure, though he had only met him once before.
“Lord Armstrong,” Timothy said and affected a bow.
* * *
Can this evening become much worse!?
Rebecca sent the prayer to the heavens as she hurried to curtsy, before looking up at Lord Armstrong’s face again. She couldn’t believe he was here. More so, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed he was here before. Her eyes had been too consumed with staring at the Duke of Frampington to notice Lord Armstrong’s presence.
“Your Grace,” he bowed to the Duke first, before bowing to Rebecca. “Lady Rebecca.”
For a few seconds, no words were uttered. Had Rebecca been of sound mind, she suspected she would have made cordial conversation, perhaps even commented on something as dull as the weather, or remarked on the performance, but she found her lips wouldn’t follow the thoughts of her mind.
“Lady Rebecca, I think we should find your sister,” the Duke was the one to break the odd silence. She looked up at him, realizing he was trying his best to extricate her from the situation.
What a kind man he is!
“Before you go,” Lord Armstrong stepped forward, “may I speak to you for a moment, my Lady?”
Rebecca didn’t want to speak to him. In fact, it was the last thing in the world she wanted.
“I wish you well, my Lord, but I agree with the Duke, I should find my sister. If you would excuse us.” She hurried to offer another curtsy. The Duke went to escort her away when Lord Armstrong moved to the side, stepping in their way.
“All I wish to do is exchange pleasantries.” Lord Armstrong kept his gaze on Rebecca as he offered her that lopsided smile. She could remember that smile very well indeed. He always used to smile at her in that way. She used to think it charming, now it just made her skin crawl.
That thought made her blink in surprise, staring at him. When she looked at him, she didn’t feel love or even heartache anymore. All those feelings had passed, the only thing she felt was pity.
“Then exchange those niceties with someone else, Lord Armstrong,” the Duke spoke up before Rebecca could. “Lady Rebecca has given you her answer. She does not wish to speak to you now.”
“Your Grace, you and I have always been on good terms,” Lord Armstrong said, affecting a charismatic tone. To Rebecca’s surprise, she felt the Duke stiffen, his body standing taller, and the muscles in his arm beneath her grasp grow taut.
“Polite terms, my Lord. That is all. I have too much respect for the lady beside me to consider you a friend. Now, excuse us.” The Duke was clearly not going to take Lord Armstrong’s refusal again, for he urged Rebecca to walk around him entirely, until they were back through the double doors and into the function room. “I understand now,” he whispered to her once they had left Lord Armstrong behind.
“What do you understand?” she said carefully, too busy looking up at him with admiration to follow the conversation.
“Why you are sad. I didn’t realize you had seen he was here tonight. Anyone would be sad after seeing him here. Let me get you home, Lady Rebecca.” He steered her forward another time.
She supposed she should be happy that he had thought Lord Armstrong the source of her sadness. It would stop him prying into her heart after all and prevent the discovery that she was actually sad because she realized she was falling in love with a man who could never love her back.
They crossed the room to where Eliza and Lord Herberton were stood together, so mid conversation and laughter that it took a minute for them to realize Rebecca and the Duke had joined them.
“Rebecca, there you are,” Eliza said, turning to her. “The poor Duke was worried about where you had gone.”
“He was?” Rebecca said, looking up at him. He almost looked bashful at the idea, avoiding her gaze.
Is that a blush on his cheeks?
“I think it is time we parted,” the Duke said, taking lead in the conversation. “Lady Rebecca has been rather enjoying herself with the champagne.”
Rebecca smiled up at him, touched by his words. He was clearly willing to keep it a secret that she had seen Lord Armstrong.
“I do not blame you, my Lady,” Lord Herberton said. “It is a mighty fine champagne indeed. Come, my carriage will be ready by now.”
Lord Herberton and Eliza led the way out of the ballroom, as the Duke escorted Rebecca behind them. The Duke appeared intent on allowing a little distance to form between them, for when Rebecca attempted to catch up with her sister, his hold on her arm drew her a little back, and his pace slowed.
