Her hand dropped, her full lips straining to avoid laughter as she tried for somberness. “We’ll just have to muddle through.”
“Well, I do have some practice…” He held his hand out to her, his breath pausing in his lungs.
The moment her hand laid in his, heat surged into his center, and the desire to dance rose with an intensity he had never felt before. Jaunty country dance or not, dancing with Edith would never be anything less than a delight.
They took their places and began the first movement, matching each other’s patterns perfectly. Edith moved forward to go around Graham, smiling almost shyly up at him as she did so.
“You’re smiling,” he murmured, his eyes tracing her as she circled him.
“Aye, I am,” she quipped with a faint brush of her shoulder against his as she moved back to her place.
He tilted his head at her while the man to his left circled his partner. “Why?”
Edith giggled to herself. “Should I not?”
“I’m not accustomed to anyone smiling like that in my presence.”
The admission caught him by surprise, and he gnawed the inside of his lip to keep himself from wishing it back.
Edith’s brows quirked just before they moved towards each other, hands extended. “I dinna mean to upset what ye are used to, my lord,” she purred as her fingers hooked into his.
“It’s not upsetting,” he managed as they turned in a circle, life itself at the tips of his fingers.
“But,” she continued without a break, “I think ye mus’ grow accustomed to smiles in your presence.”
Graham swallowed as they parted, backing into his place. “Must I, Lady Edith?”
She nodded as the woman to her right circled around her partner. “Aye. From me, at least.” Color began to tinge her cheeks a lovely shade of pink. “And it’s just Edith. Ye’ve gone wi’out the title before, and I’d prefer if ye did again.”
It was all Graham could do to keep his forward motion to the pattern of the dance rather than going directly to Edith herself. His eyes, however, would go nowhere else. “Then smile as you please, Edith. I look forward to the prospect.”
Chapter Sixteen
Once in a very great while, speaking one’s mind can have quite convenient advantages.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 30 August 1816
“Amelia, are you ready?” Edith asked as she adjusted her lace fichu in the looking glass.
There was no response.
Peering around the doorway into the sitting room, she saw Amelia standing at the window, somehow looking fragile in her white and blue sprigged muslin. Her face was hidden from view, but one hand raised to brush against her cheek.
Edith sighed sadly and moved into the room. “Amelia?”
It said a great deal about their friendship that Amelia turned to face Edith without hesitation, another tear slowly coursing down the same cheek.
“Oh, lass,” Edith murmured, going to her friend and taking her in her arms. “What is it?”
“I can’t go down there today,” Amelia whispered in a choked voice. “I can’t…”
Edith rubbed her back. “What happened?”
Amelia shuddered in her arms. “Adaline Chesney criticized me for only dancing with married men and Hensh. She told me I was wasting my opportunities, and if I had any understanding with a gentleman, I should forget it if he were not present.”
Edith ground her teeth together, irritation rising. “Did she?”
“I don’t want to forget Edmund,” Amelia hiccupped in a whimper. “I don’t know why I haven’t heard from him, but I want to believe the best! I must. I can’t let him go, Edith, and I just…” Her words dissolved in a mass of tears, her face suddenly burying against Edith’s shoulder.
“Oh, Amelia…” Edith sighed, holding her closer. “I didna mean for this retreat into the country to be painful for ye. Would ye like to return to London?”
Amelia shook her head. “No.” She sniffled and pulled back, eyes red and watering. “No, we need to stay. This is good for you.” She dabbed at her cheeks with her sleeve and sighed. “But I cannot face the ladies this afternoon. I’m likely to burst into tears. Will you make my excuses?”
Edith rubbed her arms once more. “Of course, lass. Take your rest. I’ll come to fetch ye before supper.”
Nodding, Amelia managed a weak smile and moved to sit in one of the chairs near the fire. “And if you could find a way to trip Adaline somehow, I would not complain.”
The image made Edith chuckle and nod. “I’ll do my best, lass.” With a wave, she left their sitting room, her smile and amusement disappearing the moment the door was closed.
How dare Miss Chesney say such things to Amelia! How dare she suggest Amelia go against any understanding she might have had for the sake of convenience and availability! There was no excuse for such behavior. Edith was very much afraid that Miss Chesney was aware of Amelia’s attachment and was using it to cause pain.
Moments like these were when Edith wished she were far less proper and less well-behaved.
“That’s a terrible expression before tea,” Miranda stated without hesitation as she exited her rooms and joined Edith in the corridor.
“The feelings beneath it are far worse,” Edith assured her.
“Do tell, my dear.” Quickly, Edith related the basics of the situation, and Miranda’s face hardened at hearing it. “I see,” Miranda said simply once the telling was done. “Well, I am not entirely sure how I feel about Adaline Chesney having any sense of Amelia’s tendre over Andrews, but this is…”
“Andrews?” Edith interrupted in shock, her pace faltering. “Edmund is Mr. Andrews?”
Miranda had the maddening ability to look completely unruffled by Edith’s outburst. “Of course. Did you not know? Those two have been circling each other for ages.”
The image of the tall, dark, almost aloof man appeared in Edith’s mind, and she could not, for the life of her, see what Miranda was describing. But she had no reason to doubt the statement, especially since Miranda Sterling always seemed to know the truth of any given situation at any given time.
One could always trust what Miranda was saying.
“Amelia and Mr. Andrews,” Edith mused aloud as the pair of them continued down to tea. “What a thought!”
“They will have beautiful children,” Miranda said on a pleased sigh. “Provided Andrews reappears in the world.”
Edith smiled ever so slightly. “I suppose I must hate him less for abandoning Amelia, now that I know who he is.”
Miranda smiled back, nodding. “Indeed. One could never hate Andrews.”
They neared the drawing room, and Miranda took Edith’s arm, pulling her to a stop just outside of it.
She gave Edith a very thorough look. “The same need not be said for Adaline Chesney.”
“It’s no’ me she’s injured,” Edith reminded her.
The older woman’s expression did not change. “The girl is a spiteful cat who would trod on a child if it would improve her station. She will try to injure you, as you are beautiful, amiable, and marriageable. You do not have to take it with good graces.”