Page 32 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

The girl reddened as they stopped and Kate suspected that, if she could have run away, she would have done. Her eyes were darting around everywhere and Kate suddenly realised that this girl had quite a fancy for Edward. Despite the agony of her leg, Kate dropped her head and smiled a little — well, that girl was welcome to him; she didn’t want anybody except Will. Kate looked up at Edward under her lashes, expecting, possibly quite vainly, that he would have eyes for nobody but her. However, she was a little surprised to see he was watching the girl, a small, amused smile playing around the corner of his lips.

‘Ah, the delightful Maria. Always looks so awkward at these things!’ Then, with one glance, he dismissed her and turned his attention back to Kate. ‘I’m sure I can easily beg you for another dance later, if you don’t mind?’

Kate was a thrown for a moment, but recovered herself quickly. ‘I’m sure you will give it a jolly good go,’ she said, wryly; and then, at long last, thank God, a clock began to chime.

* * *

Kate felt like Cinderella, dressed in her rags as midnight struck. The Midsummer Ball melted away and Edward faded into those forgotten hours.

She swore under her breath. She found herself sitting in the window seat of the ballroom in the present-day Hall, clutching a clipboard and watching visitors file past her, all in exactly the same positions they’d been in, guided by the ropes and the signage. She’d visited a Midsummer Ball and danced with Edward Mountfort in the blink of an eye. The Aldrich’s guests would have come to the ballroom from the reception room where Edward had been standing waiting for her, and she gazed over at the door, still half-seeing the past encroaching on the present.

Her modern-day version of Edward wasn’t there now, obviously.

A faint suggestion of a man wavered in and out of focus in that doorway though — a man of a different build and a different height, dressed much more informally. Kate blinked, then he came sharply into focus.

‘I thought that was you,’ said Theo Kent with a smile. ‘How are things? You look half-asleep. It is warm in here, though, isn’t it?’

* * *

The light was spilling out of the Hall, and the sound of the bright, joyful music was everywhere. Will stood in the shadows at the edge of the garden, Hector lying at his feet. He stared, unseeingly, at the big, leaded windows as the last of the evening sun cast a rosy glow on the old stones and tinted the glass with gold. She was in there, more than likely being dragged around the floor by some hifalutin fellow, who would as soon forget her in the morning.

Will wrapped his arms around himself, still watching the figures move and blur behind the windows. The big set of doors was thrown open wide onto the balcony, and every so often, people crept outside and stole kisses or lingering touches out of sight of their chaperones and friends. His eyes scanned the balcony hungrily for her, for Cat. If he could only see her, just to know she was having some sort of fun in there, it might not be so bad.

He toed the soil, heaping it into a little pile of leaf-mould and tiny sticks and pebbles. He transferred his gaze briefly to his sturdy work boots and his serviceable trousers. He hadn’t long finished work — one of the dray horses for the brewery had lost its shoe, and it had been something of an emergency.

How could Catriona Tredegar ever truly look at him in the way he looked at her? How could she ever feel the same way as he did? She lived in a different world — a world of parties and champagne and lilting music. A world of taffeta gowns and rustling silk. All he had to offer was horse-sweat and fire; coal dust blowing out of the furnace and covering everything with a sooty black glaze. A world of late-night hammering, and the hiss of metal cooling on an anvil; the scent of hay and muck and old leather. It was not a world for her, and her world would never welcome him: a mere blacksmith, paid to serve her family.

And then he saw her, a vision in green and gold, limping painfully over to the window seat, sitting down heavily and reaching down — possibly to rub her ankle discreetly. His heart twisted as he thought of the day he’d rescued her and the mess she’d been in. At that moment, he had known. He had known he loved her and would do everything in his power to protect her and look after her.

He made a move, Hector jumping up and wagging his tail encouragingly. He began to walk towards the Hall determinedly. He’d get to her somehow — he’d take her out of there and just ask her to sit with him in the garden and talk to her. God knew he’d be hopeless at dancing, but he could at least keep her company.

Will had just come to the edge of the lawn, when a taller figure approached her and leaned down. She looked up at him, and, hesitantly, raised her hand. The man pulled her to her feet and she stumbled a little as her leg gave way. Will automatically moved forward, his arms outstretched as if to catch her. The man she was with, however, seemed to have his attention elsewhere, and she put one hand out to steady herself on the wall, seemingly composing herself before he turned again to her.

Then he led her away somewhere, out of sight. Will stopped, a sense of utter despair and anger flooding through him.

Their worlds would never match. They collided in the worst way possible. Why the hell would she want a life with him, when she already had a life like that?

‘Come on, boy.’ He addressed Hector quietly; then turned his back on Hartsford Hall and, melting into the shadows, walked towards the cottages.

He had gone no further than a few steps, when a figure moved out of the shrubbery, an orange light flaring as he apparently lit a cigar.

‘Will. Good evening.’

Will started. It was Cat’s brother, Charles. He’d always had a lot of time for Charles, and reckoned him as close to a friend as he could get, that far up the social ladder.

‘Mr Tredegar. Good evening. Shouldn’t you be inside?’

‘Oh God, just call me Charles, will you? I hate all that bloody formality. And yes, I should be inside. There are a lot of young ladies I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting. But there’s one young lady in particular I want to talk to you about tonight.’

‘Ah.’ Will looked over Charles’s shoulder. He had an idea where this was going and didn’t much like it.

‘My sister. Catriona.’

‘Yes. What of her?’

Charles moved out of the shadows and sat on the corner of a stone plinth.

He looked at the house and smiled a little, then transferred his gaze back to Will. ‘I like you, Will Haddon. I like you a lot. And I love my sister beyond words. I want her to be happy, and at the moment, she is very happy. Can you think why that might be?’