“Why didn’t you go with her? You hate large gatherins’.”
Asa continues to watch me. I’m all too aware there are people around us who are watching and would love nothing more than to see another scandal similar to the one I created at his wedding.
“I couldn’t leave yet,” Asa confesses from the corner of his mouth.
His answer causes a shiver to sweep down my spine.
The song changes to one that immediately takes me back to past memories.
I haven’t heard the tune to “Cuddle Up a Little Closer” in years, but I would recognize it anywhere. After my debutante ball, I listened to the song as much as I could. Each time, I would think of Asa and the two perfect dances we shared that night. I dreamed of having another dance like that with him again. Never in my dreams was I a widow and he married to someone else.
I can’t dance with him to this song. Not again. But he doesn’t let go of me.
“You are cruel,” I whisper.
“Am I?” he whispers above my head.
I didn’t want to dance with Asa to begin with. It is too painful being this close to him. But with this song playing? No, I am finished. I start to move my hand out of his grasp and step back. At once, Asa’s grip on my waist and hand tightens until my body is flush against his.
My eyes jerk upward. Angrily, I glare at him and meet the gaze of his light brown eyes. His normally kind eyes are tense, searing almost, as he stares down at me.
“Don’t,” he says.
“Don’t? You dare to say that as though I asked you to dance,” I whisper.
Those eyes become heated with fury. “You dare to dance in front of me with Conrad.” He watches me closely. “I never realized you were close with him.”
“I’m not. He’s a friend of Livingston’s, and I believe he is a friend of yours also.”
“He’s not my friend. Conrad is a cretin with bad intentions. His name is always linked to scandal. That’s why you should stay far away from him.”
“Because of scandal? One could say I’ve created my fair share of scandal recently. Connor and I could be a match in scandal paradise,” I quip.
Asa’s fingers tighten against my back and he nearly growls at the last of my words.
“Besides,” I continue, as though I didn’t hear him, “it shouldn’t be of any importance to you, because you’re married to someone else.”
A muscle along Asa’s jaw jumps, but he doesn’t reply. As harsh as the truth may be, we both know we can’t change it.
“When this dance is over, you can leave knowin’ you did the right thing by warnin’ me about Conrad. You can go back to Juliet. And I’ll go back to Conrad.”
With that said, Asa’s eyes narrow. His nostrils flare.
The song comes to an end and, at once, I take a step back from him, and then another. Asa watches me, his chest rises and falls from the words he hasn’t unleashed.
I said too much. I pushed too far. Space is what both of us need.
Yet my heart wants to burst free and let go of everything it’s been holding onto. It wants to scream out the rest of the truth. But my fear is far more powerful, and it tells me to run. Get far away from Asa while I still have the opportunity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
1908
Asa
“Gettin’ hot around the collar?”
Pulling my gaze from the guests dancing before me, I looked at Livingston. His hands were tucked in his pockets as he leaned against the wall. He slowly scanned the room, smiling—and occasionally— winking at the ladies in front of him.
“No,” I replied.
At that, Livingston looked at me from the corner of his eye. He knew I was lying. My bow tie felt much too tight, and even though I have worn this tuxedo on several occasions, it had never felt more ill-fitting.
I didn’t attend black tie events often, and when I did, I tried to stay for the appropriate amount of time and then slipped away when no one was noticing. I became so tense, I found myself tripping over my words or talking about nothing but work or giving away purposeless facts that had no bearing on the moment.
It was better if I stayed away from any dinner parties or balls. But I knew this was one event I couldn’t decline. Although I wished, more than anything, that I could, but for an entirely different reason. It was hard for me to reconcile that it was Nat’s debut into society.
She might be seventeen, but she was still Nat. Étienne and Livingston’s little sister. Just yesterday, I could’ve sworn I was kneeling beside her talking to her about cloud houses and promising her she wouldn’t have to go to live with her aunt in New York, and now we were at this moment.
“What possessed you to do this?” Rainey’s brother, Miles, asked.
“Nat,” Étienne grumbled beside me.
Étienne was a fierce man, but for Nat, he would do anything if it made her happy. And tonight? This was everything his sister wanted and more. The Belgrave ballroom was transformed into a garden. Vines traveled up the columns. Flowers in an array of colors blended in crystal vases. But that wasn’t the pièce de résistance of the room. It was the solid wall of noisette roses. How the flowers managed not to fall, I didn’t know, but even I had to admit it was an impressive feat and sight.
The guests flurried about the room, their eyes wide with merriment. They were merely excited to be invited to what would undoubtedly be the soirée of the year. I didn’t recognize many of the female faces that passed by me. They must have been Nat’s friends. But nearly all of them looked at Livingston, giggled, and scurried away. His reputation preceded him.
The longer I stood there, the more uncomfortable I became. “Is the guest of honor goin’ to attend her own ball?” I asked.
Impatiently, Étienne pulled out his pocket watch. “She will be here. She might be thirty minutes late, but she will be here.”
I didn’t know why I agreed to attend. I rarely saw Nat. Étienne’s business was slowly growing, and with that came more responsibility. Right now, it was manageable for Étienne and me to handle, but within the next three or four years, he would need to hire more employees.
When I came to Belgrave to discuss contracts or a client, Nat was with Rainey. As she grew older, Nat spent a lot of time at the Pleasonton home. Which I think Étienne might have objected more too, if it wasn’t for Mrs. Pleasonton. She became a second momma to Nat, giving her advice and being there when she needed a shoulder to cry on.
“She may be your sister, but I will wait for only five more minutes and then I’m departin’,” Pleas announced.
Solemnly, I nodded in agreement.
“You will do no such thing. If I have stay, so do the rest of you.” Étienne hesitated as he looked at Conrad. “Except for you. You can leave if you want.”
That pulled a laugh from all of us, while Conrad managed to appear offended.
“This is horrible,” Pleas muttered. “I can feel the eyes of every momma upon us.”
Conrad nodded and leaned in. “They’re circlin’ us, tryin’ to decide which one is the best choice.”
“Certainly isn’t you or Livingston,” Pleas observed. “You two would be a liability.”