“Miss Carshaw.”
The softness of his voice was a balm to her pain, but she shook her head.
“You need not…” Aware that her voice was shaking, she drew in another breath. “Please, Lord Wiltsham, you must go. You should not be here.”
“Something is wrong.” His voice was low and determined. “Yesterday you did not return after meeting with your brother and this evening I found you practically running from someone else, although it seems you will not say who it is. What is the matter, Miss Carshaw?”
“Why should you have any concern for me?” Covering her eyes with one hand, she fought not to give in to yet more tears. “I am nothing to you.”
There came a brief moment of silence.
“I cannot answer your questions at present, but I certainly have no desire to leave you as you are. I did not pay heed when you first explained to me your difficulties about your brother, and I should like very much to make up for that now.”
She did not understand his reasoning, and squeezed her eyes closed.
“Regardless, there is nothing that you can do. Pray, return to the ballroom. I am sure you have many people who would be glad of your company.”
Her mortification over being seen in such a state made her head drop low.
“Miss Carshaw.” She jumped in surprise at his voice, now closer to her. The light had not moved, but she realized that he had left it on the mantlepiece and was now looking for her. “You are not alone. If there is something troubling you, then I would like to do what I can to aid you. You are right to state that I have no reason to do so, but what if my conscience is enough of an explanation? Would that content you?”
The broken laugh which came from her lips brought her all the more shame.
“There is nothing anyone can do. I shall have to escape from my brother as I have attempted to do before, in the hope that I shall be successful. Perhaps this should be the moment to say goodbye, Lord Wiltsham.”
His hand touched hers and she jerked but did not pull it away.
“You cannot mean that. I do not want that.”
Nor do I.
“I certainly do mean it, Lord Wiltsham. There is nothing else I can do. I willnotmarry Lord Bullfield.”
His fingers squeezed hers.
“That is the gentleman your brother intends you to marry?”
She nodded in the darkness.
“It is.”
Her voice was breaking as she tried to pull her fingers from his, but he held on gently.
“You cannot simply run from London. Where would you go? What would you do?”
“I do not know, but I simply cannot stay here and marry Lord Bullfield.”
Her voice was breaking again, and she stumbled forward, meaning to make her way past him, only for him to catch her in his arms. They closed around her waist and, despite her overwhelming sorrow and churning emotions, Julia found herself sinking into him. Her head went to rest on his shoulder, and she took in a shaking breath, knowing that these were the last few moments they would ever spend together.
The door suddenly flew open, and a thunderous voice filled the room.
“I thought I saw you following her! Whatever is the meaning of this, Lord Wiltsham? You cannot hide from me, Iknowyou are there!”
Squinting in the light, Julia stepped back from Lord Wiltsham, but it was much too late. Lady Steerford glared at them both, framed in the light streaming from the doorway.
Lord Wiltsham slipped one arm around her waist, and drew her forward to the red-faced Lady Steerford. Her mouth opened, but she had nothing to say, looking up at him only to find herself all the more confused at Lord Wiltsham’s easy smile.
“You have interrupted what is a very happy moment, Lady Steerford.” His voice was filled with a happiness that Julia could not understand. Surely this was a dreadful moment? One where they ought both be stammering for an explanation and thereafter begging Lady Steerford not to see anything that would cause them difficulty. “I have just had Miss Carshaw’s agreement that she will accept my proposal and become my wife.”
