“You have my full attention,” he told her, seeming to sense something might be wrong.
She took a deep breath, refusing to dwell on why it was so hard to say. “Earlier today, Ambrose asked if he could court me. I said yes, so we are courting now,” she finally told him.
If she had questioned her decision before, she was aching to take it all back at that moment. Only the thought of Ambrose and all he had done for her, how he had stood by her side all this time, and how he would feel if she changed her mind, prevented her from deciding to call it off.
She could tell Walter froze at her words, and it made her feel horrible. Should I be feeling this way if Walter does not mean anything to me anymore?
And why do I feel as though this is perhaps even more painful than it would be to call off Ambrose’s courtship?
Chapter 25
As he heard Georgiana state she was courting Rowley, Walter felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of him. At the same time, he felt a mixture of anger, suspicion, and heartbreak.
The potent mixture of emotions left him speechless as he stared at her. Looking into her eyes, he was unable to see any signs she was not being truthful, nor could he think of any reason why she would say such a thing if it weren’t true. Still, he wanted it not to be true.
Just then, another gentleman in a mask approached them, instantly reaching for Georgiana’s hand, and drawing her away. As he looked into the man’s blue eyes, he knew who it was: Mr. Ambrose Rowley.
As Walter expected, the man glared at him, and he wanted to glare right back, but he was uncertain what Georgiana would think of him if he did.
“Thank you for the dance,” she told him, as she let Rowley lead her away.
“My pleasure,” he murmured, as she was taken out of the range of his voice. He doubted she had even heard him.
Walter felt he could do nothing but stand and watch as Georgiana was led into position for the next dance. Now jealousy was overriding every other emotion as he walked away from the pair.
He couldn’t bring himself to walk out of the ballroom, however, his eyes being unable to look away as he saw Georgianna dancing with Rowley. It was while he was still standing there that his mother approached him.
“Well, how did your discussion with the Earl of Ferndale go?” she asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Hmm, it went very well. I will be meeting with him in the morning to discuss matters further,” he replied, forcing his eyes away from the dancers to see Sylvia was mildly amused.
“Oh? I am surprised you haven’t already decided on every last detail and signed a contract.”
His lips twitched up at the corners. “So, you knew?”
“I did say he was keen on doing business with you. If you did not take my words literally, then that was your own fault,” she retorted playfully, then her expression grew more serious. “What is the matter, Walter? I thought you wanted to host this ball, so why do you seem so morose?”
He sighed. “I … she…” He shook his head as he finally replied, “Perhaps I will tell you later. Just know I am still very grateful for you having arranged the ball,” he assured her.
She looked at him for a while before seeming to be satisfied. “Very well, I will leave you to mingle with our guests, then. Just try to enjoy the ball, please?”
“Of course, I will,” he replied as she left his side.
Turning to look at the other guests, he debated on how to occupy himself for the rest of the evening. He tried to brush away the feeling that the whole evening was ruined. Even if it were, it was still his duty as host to ensure the evening was not spoiled for anyone else if he could help it.
Unfortunately, the fates had apparently determined his evening was to get even worse if that were possible. The sound of a familiar voice intruded on him, nearly making him wince.
“Lord Bartlett?”
He turned towards the voice with a false smile as he replied, “Miss Rutherford?”
The bright smile he got from the young lady in the swan costume only confirmed his fears. “Yes! I am so pleased we have been able to find each other.”
He had not been looking forward to seeing her again, but he supposed this was as good an opportunity to make his lack of interest in her clear. However, he knew he couldn’t be rude about it.
As much as he wanted Georgiana, logic told him he would probably never be able to marry her. Miss Rutherford was a good second choice, though, as his mother pointed out, she would probably not stay single for long.
“Perhaps I might have the honor of dancing with you?” he said, hearing the current set coming to an end.
“I would love that,” she beamed in reply.
He stood there, content to wait in silence for the current dance to end, hoping his obvious failure to even attempt a conversation might give her a clue as to the fact he was not pursuing her.
She seemed to find the silence disconcerting, and barely any time at all passed before she broke the silence. “I am so glad you decided to make this a masquerade. I haven’t heard that you make a habit of hosting such balls.”
In other words, she wants me to flatter her by confirming I arranged this ball just for her. “That is because I don’t really enjoy hosting balls. But I wanted to … I wanted to reconnect with a friend of mine, and this seemed a good way to do so,” he replied, choosing his words carefully, to be as truthful as possible.
“Oh,” she replied, clearly disappointed. She quickly recovered herself as, at that moment, those about to participate in the next dance were finding their positions on the floor.
“Well, I hope you have been able to talk to this friend of yours,” she told him as he led her into place.
“Yes, actually, I have,” he replied simply, refusing to elaborate further.
“And how was he, your friend, I mean?”
He chose to neither correct nor confirm her mistake, as he replied, “The conversation did not go as well as I had hoped … but I am still glad I had it.”
He lapsed into silence for only a moment before suddenly coming up with an idea which he thought should cement his lack of interest. “One person I wish I could have invited is my cousin Felicia. She would love this ball.”
“Oh? Perhaps I can meet her one day. What is she like?”
“Oh, I don’t know if you will ever get a chance to meet her. She is quite happy living in France. I have been thinking … I might return to France soon for a visit.”
“Back to France? For how long?”
“I have not made up my mind about it, yet. I would likely leave in a few weeks. I don’t know how long I will stay this time…”