“Have you spotted them yet?” Lucy Frost, Lady Winterson, said in a rushed whisper.
“Spotted who?” Philbert replied, distracted. She had found him in an intimate alcove just off the ballroom, blessedly empty, fussing with the mistletoe again. Making sure it hung perfectly, in the middle of the garland that decorated the close space.
“He just arrived! Young Mr. Beckett. Julia wrote me to be on the lookout for him, should he ever decide to return from abroad. And of course, he chooses tonight of all nights to do so!” Lucy could feel her face blush with giddy excitement. She knew that after all these years of hosting the Christmas Ball, she should be used to the rush of excitement, merriment, and joy it gave her, but instead it came unbidden anew, making her feel young again.
But Philbert was looking down on her with concern. “Your face, my lady. You’ve become quite flushed.” He put out his hand to feel the side of her cheek, shocking her with his touch.
“I, ah… I am merely pleased, is all.” She felt herself flushing more from his touch and told herself she was relieved when he put his hand down. “Mr. Beckett is here, Miss Westforth is here, and I am certain sparks will fly between them. That is, once we put them together.”
Philbert glanced over her shoulder into the ballroom beyond. “I fear there is little we need to do for this couple.”
She followed his gaze to where she could see Miss Susannah Westforth, the most sought after young lady of the past Season, surrounded by a sea of young men, giving Sebastian Beckett her hand to bow over. Startled, he did so. Then, a waltz began, and before the first three notes had been played, Susannah’s partner had stepped forward to claim her and lead her to the floor. The look on Mr. Beckett’s face fluctuated between completely shocked and utterly murderous.
“Well, well,” she murmured. “That knocked his socks off. It will be a few hours yet before she has him smiling. Although, to hear Julia tell it, a little torture might be in that boy’s best interest.”
“Hours of torture?” Philbert asked, shaking his now silver head. Lucy could remember when it had been a deep chocolate, thick and wavy. Of course, it was still thick, still waved. She raised her hand to her own light hair. Silver now too, she knew. But hopefully, still stylish.
“Yes.” Lucy nodded. “Why, do you think that too much?”
“It’s not for me to say, my lady.” The corner of his mouth went up. “Some men will break under hours of torture, wanting for a woman. Some men endure decades.”
Something zipped through Lucy’s heart. Something uncomfortable, something wonderful. And when her eyes met his… something that made her flush all over again.
Susannah could feel warmth spreading through her body, that odd tingling of awareness stretching over her skin like an invisible touch. He was here. Sebastian was here. Now. How long had he been back in England? In London? Why did she feel so ill-prepared for this meeting, when all she had been doing for the last three years was wishing for it?
Wishing for a single kiss from him.
As Mr. Parkhurst took her through another turn in the waltz, Susannah tried her best to compose herself, and to remember all her aunt had taught her. Oh, she wished Aunt Julia was there at that very moment! But of course, she could not be – the snow had stranded her in the North much the way everyone here was stranded in the South. As it was, Susannah was all alone in London – staying with friends while her family celebrated the holiday at Dewberry Manor. At home.
First things first – never let your young Mr. Beckett see you unsettled. The phrase echoed in Susannah’s head. It had been early on in their lessons, when Aunt Julia had been trying to get her to sit serenely at tea, and not twitch her leg or fidget her hands.
Susannah took a deep breath and let a serene smile bloom over her features. She would not let Sebastian know how her heart raced, how she could feel his eyes on her as she twirled across the room. He would not see her unsettled, nor let him know that he was the one doing the unsettling.
“You have a very curious look on your face,” Parkhurst said, bringing her attention back to him. (Another rule long since drilled into her head popped up: When with a man, give him your full attention. Unless he does not return the favor.) And Parkhurst definitely was earning her attention, his eyes peering into her face, searching.
“Do I?” she asked, turning the corners of her mouth up.
“Yes. I would pay all the money I have to know what you are thinking.”
“Oh, I should prefer not to bankrupt you, so I will happily tell you,” Susannah answered back coyly. “I was thinking about my aunt, and some advice she has given me.”
“Advice?” Parkhurst’s (slightly bushy) eyebrow went up. “On what subject?”
“Men.”
Now his second eyebrow joined the first. “And what was the advice?”
“All men, whether they know it or not, desire manipulation. It is only charitable that we women manipulate them to our liking.”
Parkhurst blinked twice and then burst out laughing. And Susannah glowed with pleasure, knowing that she had gained the attention of every man in the room – and cemented the gaze of one man in particular.
After Parkhurst came Lord Trolley, and then Mr. Campbell for a reel. Thus Susannah did not have a moment to catch her breath for nearly a full hour. When one finally came, she was inundated with offers to fetch her refreshment. She directed the young bucks toward the punch bowl, letting them argue over who would bring the cup to her. What she really wanted was a respite. A few moments to breathe, to collect her thoughts. She knew Sebastian was here somewhere, and the next time she saw him, she had to be quick and clever, and – according to her aunt – completely alluring and unattainable at the same time, thus rendering him in her thrall –
“I thought you’d never leave the dance floor.”
She started, but quickly smoothed her features. Not only had Aunt Julia taught her how to dress and stand up straight, she’d taught her how to seem unruffled, even if you were ruffled quite deeply.
He was standing by the Christmas tree. It was not the first Christmas tree that Susannah had ever seen, but it was certainly the biggest. When Lady Winterson adopted a new trend, she did so with aplomb. The branches of the fir fell out in a perfect conical fashion, the decorations and the little candles jostled only slightly when Sebastian removed himself from the wall.
He moved gracefully, but then again, he always had. Even when they were young, Susannah’s heart had skipped a beat at just seeing his confident walk. But now, that walk had a bit more thud to it, and his brow a bit more thunder.
“I try to honor all the dances I give away,” Susannah said simply, letting her smile come up again. Letting her eyes fill with the joy of seeing him again.
Sebastian smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. “I remember when you could not do a simple reel without tripping over your feet.”
She blushed, but held his eye. “And I remember that you were quite the gentleman, and never made me feel clumsy for it.”
“Yes, well… you have improved since then,” he mumbled.
“Three years is a long time.”
“It’s not that long,” he replied, affronted. “Not long enough for…” His eyes raked over her, and she knew what he saw. The changes in her. The child gone and the young lady with learned wiles standing in her skin. The dress, the hair, the posture, the laughter, the joy, the little touches of womanhood must have been a bit of a shock.
But that did not explain the look of disgust on his face.
“Not long enough for what?” she replied. “It’s long enough for three Christmases. Three summer festivals in Hollyhock. Six birthdays, both yours and mine. Thirty-six months, one hundred-fifty-six weeks, one thousand, ninety-five days…” She ticked off on her fingers.
“Alright, enough.” His hand reached out and took hers. Shocking her with the easiness of it. He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “You were always more clever with numbers than I. More clever with most things,
really.”
She smiled then too, her nerves picking up every little thing about this moment. Locked in a glass bubble, they were, like the ornaments on the tree, the world moving around outside of them but as long as her hand was in his, they were alone…
“But enough of this nonsense. What is a girl like you doing in London?”
“A girl like me?”
“Well, yes. I mean, Susie, I just never expected to see you here. You’re not exactly…”
The glass ball began to crack. “I’m not exactly what?”
“Well…” He gave her a look. “This party… this dress… you’re supposed to be riding your horse over the hills in the country, not dancing with idiots like Parkhurst.” He laughed then. “It’s a little bit ridiculous, come to think of it.”
She felt her brow come down. Her body go cold. The cracked glass ball shattered, and the rest of reality slipped back in.
“You’re angry,” she realized. Some part of her broke a little. After all this time, he’d been gone and she’d been so happy to see him and…
He was angry.
“No, I’m not,” he blustered.
“Yes, you are. You are angry because I am somehow ridiculous for having changed. But what’s ridiculous about it?” she asked, unable to keep her voice calm and cool, as she knew her aunt would insist. “I dance quite well, as you see. I look lovely in this dress. And I enjoy Mr. Parkhurst’s company.”
“No one could enjoy –”
“What I find ridiculous is that you come back after three years away and expect me to be unchanged. To be the skinny, awkward girl who tried to kiss you once and ended up kissing a log instead.” He blinked twice at that, but she kept going. “Instead you are angry – yes, angry! I can tell! – at my having had the audacity to grow up. And you mock me for having done so.”
“Susie, I never meant –”
“It’s Susannah, Sebastian. Or Miss Westforth. And the only ridiculous thing here right now is you.”
With that she turned away, surprised by her own vehemence. Luckily, she did not have long to stew, nor did Sebastian have time to reach out to her and plead his case – if he was going to at all. For just as Susannah turned around, Parkhurst and a retinue of gentlemen returned with glasses of punch, champagne, and little plates full of treats.
“Mr. Parkhurst.” She smiled broadly, shoving away any of her messier feelings. “How delightful – you have brought me an entire repast!”
Parkhurst grinned. “There was some debate as to what would please you, so we brought several options.”
“Anything and everything pleases me, Mr. Parkhurst. I want it all.”
And with that, she let Parkhurst and the other young men envelope her, whisking her away from Sebastian. She refused to look back.
Chapter Four