His eyes darkened. “Williams is a blackguard.”
The disdain in his voice was gratifying, and yet it was time to move past the mortification of it all. Lord Williams would most likely live his life never knowing how he’d ruined mine. And I already knew how futile it was to harbor grievances against such people. “It’s of little import. I shall never see him again.”
“Dance with me?” Mr. Northam asked suddenly.
I glanced around the empty room. He’d closed the door behind himself so that we truly were alone. “One couple is not enough for a dance,” I said.
His lips curved suggestively. “It is for a waltz.”
The dance had been introduced in London a few months ago, and though the papers termed the dance scandalous, there’d been whispers that Mrs. Hickmore was not opposed to its being danced this week. However, being alone with Mr. Northam was enough to shred my already tarnished societal status. Dancing the waltz with him was certain to ruin my reputation permanently, and I still had my honor; Lord Williams had not robbed me of that.
I shook my head. “You will have to content yourself with a bit of conversation. Considering we are without a chaperone, it should satisfy your craving for scandal until I am gone.”
Mr. Northam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I could convince you to dance with me.” His eyes gleamed with the promise that I would not regret accepting his invitation.
For all his attempts at persuasion, I remained unmoved. I had Edward to thank for that. “If you merely wish to dance, I am afraid your efforts would be futile.”
Mr. Northam shoved off the wall, removing the distance between us with a step. His eyes bored into mine; the laughter left his smile. “And if I wish for more?”
I hesitated, quelling the flush of anticipation as quickly as it had arrived. I had already resigned myself to leaving without a proposal. Unwilling to allow myself hope, I shrugged. “Our time together has run out.”
“There is still time to make it a success.”
He no doubt measured success very differently than most. “By Mrs. Hickmore’s standards or by your own?”
“Both.”
My breath caught. Whatever else he meant, he meant to propose. It was the only event Mrs. Hickmore would ever consider a success. Had my imminent departure made him realize how perfect we would be together? Had he finally understood what a quick and easy match we could make?
He tucked two fingers beneath my chin and tilted my face toward his. “A kiss to seal the deal?” His gaze shifted to my lips.
I placed a hand on his arm, forestalling his kiss, needing to hear the words that would bind us together. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“You have an apt way of choosing words.” He leaned closer.
Boots clicked on the floor behind me.
We’d been caught. Alone. In a somewhat compromising position. Only a frank proposal could save me now.
Mr. Northam’s attention shifted above my head and his smile disappeared. He dropped his hand but didn’t step away.
“Margaret, there you are.” The edge in Daniel’s voice was unmistakable. Even so, relief filled me that it was only my brother who had discovered us instead of someone else in the party. He clamped a hand on my shoulder, its pressure sending me stumbling back a step. “The carriage is waiting. Excuse us, Mr. Northam.”
I couldn’t leave. Not yet. I looked at my brother, hoping to catch his eye. If he knew how close I was to a proposal, he might delay our departure. But his anger was focused on Mr. Northam, whose smile had become hard and mocking.
“Of course, Mr. Brinton. I was merely bidding your sister farewell.”
Wasn’t he going to tell Daniel? Wasn’t Mr. Northam going to say the words?
Daniel’s fingers dug into my shoulders. I attempted to shrug them off, but his grip tightened. “Come, Margaret. We are finished here.”
I didn’t yield to his pressure. I would not give up hope just yet.
Mr. Northam’s amused gaze lowered, meeting mine. His expression grew unexpectedly intimate. This was the moment.
“I am sorry we were interrupted. I look forward to continuing our conversation soon.” He captured my gloved hand and slowly lifted it to his lips.
He hadn’t asked.
But he wanted to continue the conversation. He still wanted to propose.
“I would like that very much, Mr. Northam,” I replied, praying my smile was encouraging instead of disappointed. I had waited this long. I could wait a bit longer.
Daniel ripped my hand away and slipped it around his arm but refrained from speaking. He would air all his censures once we were alone in the carriage.
I didn’t care. As we turned to leave, I shifted my parting grin from Mr. Northam to the painting of the girl welcoming the rain.
“What were you thinking?” Daniel demanded, not caring that I was struggling to secure my bonnet as he pulled me down the front steps to the tree-lined gravel drive and our waiting host and hostess.
I ignored his question, smiling and dropping a curtsy at the Hickmores, grateful they provided a temporary distraction from Daniel’s reprimands. “Mr. Hickmore, Mrs. Hickmore.”
“Ah, you found her,” Mrs. Hickmore exclaimed, her round face lighting up. “No doubt in the middle of a large group of very downhearted young gentlemen.”
“I wish I had,” Daniel muttered, shaking Mr. Hickmore’s bulky hand.
Mrs. Hickmore glanced inquiringly at me.
“Thank you again for inviting us,” I said quickly to avoid questions.
Mrs. Hickmore’s lips pressed into a small frown. “I am sorry it started off poorly. I shall never invite that Lord Williams again. Behaving so rudely toward you. His actions are not to be excused. I do regret that things did not turn out as you had hoped.” She leaned in until I could see each pore on her nose. “Perhaps we shall have another gathering and invite only the one young man who proved most promising.” She gave me a knowing smile and winked, then straightened, her head bobbing in agreement to her own comment.
Daniel tensed at the reference to Mr. Northam. After clearing his throat, he said, “We should be on our way.”
Mrs. Hickmore frowned. “I wish you an uneventful ride home, Mr. Brinton.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hickmore. I assure you we shall be quite safe.” He placed a firm hand on my back.
“Give my regards to your father,” Mr. Hickmore said.
“And mine to your mother,” Mrs. Hickmore added.
I curtsied once more before allowing Daniel to direct me to the waiting carriage. He assisted me in, climbed up behind me, and shut the door. I settled onto the cushioned rear-facing bench while he sat opposite and rapped on the ceiling. The carriage jerked and slowly drew down the drive.
Hours of traveling stretched before us. Earlier, the thought hadn’t disturbed me. Though my younger sister Alice was sure to be disappointed not to have a new brother-in-law in the making, I missed my morning walks around the lake on our estate and the quiet evenings being in the company of only my family. But now the hours of sitting would be fraught with images of what might have been had Daniel not intervened.
Struggling to resign myself to the journey, I turned my attention to the window and the Hickmores’ diminishing house. A figure stood on the stairs. It took only a second to realize Mr. Northam had followed us outside, his unmistakable silhouette unmoving against the pillared white building. I gasped with delight.