Page 67 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

Sophia bit her lip, all her excitement turned to worry. Jack took matters into his own hands, tugging her gently away and whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

Agatha opened her mouth, an angry flush on her cheeks.

“Miss Weston, may I escort you through?” Stefan said, casting me the briefest rueful glance before stepping forward to try and charm her out of her temper.

Appeased, Agatha smiled at him serenely and put her hand on his arm. Helena fluttered alongside them. I wasn’t sure if Agatha even realized she’d just shown off her worst side.

Nick appeared at my elbow. “Shall we?” He offered me his arm and I took it. “That was your doing, I suppose?” he asked, gesturing after Sophia.

I was fairly sure that I wasn’t supposed to be showing off my dressmaking skills while playing the lady, so I remained silent.

Nick sighed wearily, but his voice was a mixture of resignation and amusement as he asked, “Now who’s the fairy godmother?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The party was in full swing, and though the night was far from over, it seemed everyone was already agreed that it was a roaring success – at least for most of us.

I barely had time to catch my breath, dancing every dance with plenty of charming and some not-so-charming partners. It was hard not to feel triumphant that two of those dances, including the very first one, had been with Stefan, who had reminded me with grin that I owed him a dance, and that it had to be delivered as soon as possible.

Propriety had not allowed more, but I felt his eyes follow me around the room, and he was at my side as often as his duties as guest of honour would allow. I knew that Stefan would do nothing that might be impolite to his hostess; he was – I was beginning to see – a man who took his responsibilities seriously, but I found that I was glad every time he appeared, whispering in my ear, making me laugh.

His attention marked me out as well. I felt the eyes on me again, on the pair of us when we were together. I was turning away partners who pretended to be deeply wounded, and I was introduced to dozens of people who could not have been more interested in learning every detail about the beautiful heiress Serena Fox.

Only Agatha seemed to be having a bad time, and it would take a far better person than I not to rejoice in it. Seeing her wearing my mother’s jewels had been a red flag to a bull, and I hadn’t hesitated to make my delight in Stefan’s company as obvious as possible. Watching her dancing boot-faced with poor Percy, and glower as Sophia’s dance card filled up, had been satisfying, but it was nowhere near enough. I wanted to rip my mother’s jewels from her ears and throat. It made me feel quite wild, and I channelled my anger into smiling brighter, dazzling harder, as hard as any diamond.

I hadn’t danced with Nick yet. He hadn’t asked. In fact, I had barely seen him at all, though I found myself looking for him several times.

A swirl of yellow silk whirled past me, and I caught Sophia’s bright smile as she was waltzed around the room again by Jack Waterford. He wasn’t the only one to notice how well she looked tonight. The dress suited her; but, more than that, I could tell that she felt beautiful in it. It was nice to have helped, even without the bonus of antagonizing Agatha. I liked Sophia, and I knew what it was like to be Agatha’s plaything. I was glad to see her having a good time.

I excused myself from the next dance, pleading thirst. Several men rushed off to fetch me a drink at once, and I used their disappearance to snatch a moment alone, slipping through the drawing room and out of the doors that led into the garden.

The night was cool, and I welcomed the sharpness of it, like tiny pins, waking my body and clearing my head of the drowsy heat that came from being so surrounded by people. The sky was clear and the moon, almost full, seemed near enough that you could pluck it from the sky and roll it between your fingers – a smooth white pearl.

And there were stars. I had grown so used to London fog and overcast skies that I had almost forgotten – or perhaps had tried hard not to remember – the night skies of my home, filled with so many flashes of silver, cascading and cartwheeling riotously overhead, stretching up and out in a dizzying display that seemed to go on for ever.

I stood, looking up at them now, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. Then I heard soft footsteps, felt a jacket being dropped around my shoulders, warm and smelling of spice and citrus. I slipped my hands through the sleeves, feeling the silk lining skim over the sensitive skin on my bare arms.

“Needed a rest from being the belle of the ball?” Nick asked, coming to stand beside me.

“Where have you been?” I replied, forcing myself not to look at him or react to his presence.

“Around.”

“How mysterious.” I kept my tone dry, matching his.

“Not really.” He shrugged. “I have been avoiding several mothers who want me to know that their daughters are the most accomplished young women for miles around, I have danced with the daughter of a friend, and twice with a pretty widow, and I have received a lengthy lecture from my grandmother on the importance of marrying as soon as possible, when I foolishly allowed her to corner me with a plate of cherry tarts.”

I laughed at that. “I’d have thought after successfully avoiding all the matchmakers, you’d have done a better job at hiding from the dowager countess.”

“There were cherry tarts,” he said, wounded. “My grandmother doesn’t fight fair.”

I felt the shiver of awareness that I always felt when he was beside me. Or perhaps it was the night air. That’s what I told myself anyway.

“Are you enjoying it?” he asked. “The party, I mean.”

“I’m not here to enjoy it,” I said. The image of Agatha decked out in my mother’s jewels flickered across my mind and I felt my jaw clench.

He was silent then, but I could still feel his eyes on me. I had no idea what he was thinking about.