XI

"Eye contact: how souls catch fire."

—Yahia Lababidi

XI.

Grace fastened the very last pin in Claire's hair, satisfied that it was the prettiest that it had ever been, and her skills could not make it even more so. Claire was indeed terribly beautiful, and were it not for her lack of fortune, she would have been the object of affection for many a young man.

But, much like Grace, Claire's prospects were not grand, and she set her sights too high by fantasizing about Arthur Slickson. Grace worried that Claire's naïveté would result in her falling prey to a young man with less than gentlemanly intentions. Claire would get her heart broken if she was not careful.

Claire's gown was a blush pink, the exact shade her cheeks seemed to always be in church. The contrast between her dress and her raven hair was lovely, and she looked every bit a princess.

Grace had selected a white gown that had belonged to Kate. It was simple, but elegant, with only a ribbon, cornflower blue in colour, around the waist as decoration. She had been drawn to the dress for exactly that reason, the cornflower description sticking in her mind unwillingly. Looking at herself in the mirror behind Claire, she could see that the ribbon did match her eye colour well.

"Claire," Grace said, shaking off any thought of him. "You must try to choose someone else to bestow upon your affection," she urged, frowning. "Mr Slickson is far too vain to appreciate someone as sweet and as lovely as you." She could think of other young men in town. More attainable men who would most certainly trail after Claire if she looked their way.

Claire blushed the colour of her dress and shook her head. "You are far too skeptical, Grace," she scolded. "There is much more to Arthur Slickson than his appearance."

Grace, having been the one to work within the Slickson household, was yet to see more to Mr Slickson then his own appreciation for himself. Could she be surprised by him? Grace doubted it. Either way, Arthur Slickson would never marry a girl as beneath him as Claire. Claire was simply too innocent to see this.

"Are you two presentable?"

Grace and Claire turned to their mother at the doorway. Mrs Denham was wearing her best Sunday gown and walking very tentatively, having only just regaining her ability to walk. When she saw her daughters by the dressing table, she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Claire!" she gushed. "When did you become a lady?"

At seventeen, Claire had not been permitted many opportunities to dress as she was. The previous summer had been the first time she had been allowed to attend public affairs. This would be her first winter ball.

She beamed at the praise and stood up from the chair. "Thank you, Mama," she said excitedly.

Mrs Denham's eyes then fell on Grace, and her expression softened to one of warm admiration. "And my good Grace," she said simply. "How beautiful you are." Holding her hands out to her daughters, she beckoned them. "Come. I am desperate for some conversation. Let us farewell your brothers and then depart."

***

"When you think of the society we had during the Season, Perry, I really have no idea why you would insist upon us attended a country dance," Cecily said distastefully as the Beresfords approached the assembly hall.

"Perhaps because it would vex you terribly, my dear wife," muttered Peregrine in reply.

Adam, who was walking behind his parents, Susanna on his arm, rolled his eyes. Pigs would fly before his mother found something that pleased her. Adam, on the other hand, was looking forward to the ball. He was looking forward to the music and the dancing, and the simple pleasures that a public assembly brought.

People from all over would be in attendance, including the servants in his own household. Including Grace.

Adam had been avoiding her, but it was not hard to when he had been cooped up in his father's study for days on end. Even then, he had not seen her since that brief moment weeks ago when it had been Mrs Hayes' birthday.

It was as though he had quickly become accustomed to her presence, addicted even, and his eyes longed to look upon her, at the extreme annoyance of his head.

The music behind the doors of the assembly hall was lively and jovial. The noise of conversation flowed, as did the laughter of old friends. How different the two sides of the door were, and Adam longed to be on the other, away from his quarrelling parents, and that much closer to seeing her for a brief moment.

"No, that will not be necessary," Cecily snapped, holding up her hand as an attendant went to give Susanna a dance card.

Susanna immediately pouted, her lower lip trembling as she frowned. "But Mother ..." she whimpered, "it's a ball."

"It's a country assembly, Susanna," Cecily said dismissively. "Were you to stand up with any man here, it would be an embarrassment. If you are to dance, it may only be with your brothers."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," said Adam, rolling his eyes. Knowing his mother cared so deeply about appearances, he continued, "Would it not be seen as charitable for Susanna to dance with whomever asks?"

Cecily glared at Adam over her shoulder. "No," she said curtly. "It will only cheapen her."

"What am I to say if someone asks me to dance?" Susanna protested. "Won't it be rude to refuse?"

"Susanna, you are the daughter of the Duke of Ashwood," huffed Cecily. "It will be rude of them to ask you." She turned her head back as the assembly room doors were opened for them.

Adam gave his sister a reassuring look. Once inside, he would ensure that she had a lovely time with the good people of Ashwood, the people that they had grown up with. They were the salt of the earth, and Adam, Jack and Susanna being associated with them could only be for the better.

The music, dancing, laughter, and conversation all stopped abruptly as all eyes turned to them. Adam disliked this greatly. He would have much preferred to slip into the assembly unnoticed, but his mother would never refuse an opportunity to appear superior.

"His Grace, the Duke of Ashwood, Her Grace, the Duchess of Ashwood, Lord Beresford, Lord Jack Beresford, and the Lady Susanna Beresford," called the attendant as the duke and duchess descended into the assembly.

Adam escorted Susanna, and Jack followed reluctantly behind them. Adam's eyes flicked around the room quickly, but they didn't find her.

The music quickly resumed, and the dancers returned to the middle of the floor, picking up where they had left off in the sequence. It was at the resumption of the dance that he spotted a raven-haired angel, for she could only be an angel, dressed in white and looking as ethereal as she was.

Her skin looked as smooth as porcelain, flushed from the exertion. Her pink lips were upturned in a bright smile as she enjoyed herself. But her eyes, her cornflower blue eyes, were as beautiful on her as the bloom on a Cornish hill.

How often he had thought about what her hair would look like out from underneath a maid's cap or the bonnet she wore in church. It shone like polished ebony, affixed in the softest feminine curls that framed her heart-shaped face.

In an instant his trance was shattered as she took the hand of a man, he did not recognise in the dancing sequence. The smile, the beautiful smile he had admired, was for him.

This sudden realization came upon Adam like a punch to the gut, and it quickly brought him back to reality. He shook his head, refocusing his vision, just as his father's attention was claimed by the vicar.

Cecily made pleasantries before she quickly turned back to her children, focusing her eyes on Jack.

Jack had somehow already sourced a glass of champagne and was in the process of tipping it down his throat as Cecily demanded his attention.

"You are to be on your best behaviour tonight," she warned Jack in a low, hushed voice, glaring at him. "I do not want to see a drink in your hand after this one, and you are not to dance with any girl who does not have my approval."

Jack grinned wickedly. He had dressed well this evening, wearing a deep navy coloured coat, adorned with rich, brass buttons. His breeches and boots were dark, and he had bothered to comb his usually unruly dark hair.

He turned his head and tapped on the shoulder of the nearest woman to him. Cecily was powerless in her fury as the girl turned around. Adam recognised her instantly. Her similarities to her sister were uncanny.

She appeared shocked to have been approached by Jack Beresford, as though she had not realised how close she was standing to him.

"May I have the next dance, Miss?" Jack asked, as dashing as he could be, as he held his hand out to her.

She blushed, as only a girl of her age could, and looked quite flustered as her inexperience betrayed her. "We have not been introduced, sir," she replied softly.

Jack looked to Adam and Susanna for help, raising an eyebrow in hope that one of them knew who the girl was. Adam smirked at his mother's fury and stepped forward. "May I introduce Miss Claire Denham," Adam said politely. "Miss Claire, please allow me introduce my brother, Lord Jack Beresford."

"Denham?" hissed Cecily rudely, and Adam hoped that Claire's young ears missed it. "There's more of them?"

"There now," Jack said confidently. "We are introduced. May I have the next dance?" he asked again.

Claire looked over her shoulder very briefly, as though she was looking for someone, before her eyes returned to Jack. "I would be honoured, milord," she uttered nervously as she took his hand and curtseyed.

Jack could not leave them fast enough as he walked with Claire through the crowd of people to take their places as the next dance was to start.

"I should not have allowed him to come," Cecily said under her breath.

"He is twenty-three years old, Mother," muttered Adam in reply. "Jack will do as he pleases. What has he done but ask he sweet girl to dance?"

Cecily's attention was then claimed by the vicar as the music stopped. The dancers then applauded the musicians. Adam's eyes immediately found Grace again as she curtseyed to her partner. Something deep within him gave him the urge to follow Jack's lead, to walk right over to her and ask for the next dance.

But how could he? He could not be seduced into pain once more, no matter how beautiful she looked. As Grace walked away from her partner, Adam saw her notice Jack and Claire taking their place on the dancefloor. Her expression was neutral as she was claimed by her sister, Kate, before her eyes finally found him.

Adam saw vulnerability, hesitance, and hurt in her eyes they minute she looked upon him. He watched as her lips parted, as though she wanted to say something, but a room of people stood between them. Kate stole Grace's attention from Adam then.

"She was hurt by the letter, too," whispered Susanna, as though she was reading Adam's mind.

Adam, looking back instantly at Susanna, realised that his sister had clearly seen him staring at Grace.

"What are you talking about?" Adam uttered in confusion. How could Susanna possibly know such a thing. He saw guilt on his sister's face, and Adam's stomach immediately began to twist. "What have you been doing? Have you been speaking to her?" he demanded to know, his teeth clenching. "Good God, Susanna, tell me you did not mention the letter," he hissed angrily.

Susanna squeezed his forearm. "Please," she begged. "Don't be angry with me. Grace is my friend."

Adam blinked several times as he comprehended that piece of information. "When did you and Grace have time to become friends?"

"That is irrelevant," Susanna dismissed. "I always wanted Grace to like me when I was younger. You know that as you spent so much time telling me to leave you alone so you could monopolise her time," Susanna reminded him. "But I like Grace. I do. She is kind, sweet tempered, generous, patient ... and I don't think she could ever do such a cruelty now. I asked her about the letter, and I hope you won't be angry at me for too long in finding this out, but when I did, she seemed to be deeply hurt by it."

Were they not in a room full of people, Adam would have exploded with anger at his sister. He felt such a humiliation at the thought of Susanna discussing his private feelings with her. "How dare you!" seethed Adam, glaring in a way that he had never done before. "How dare you share such private information with her."

Susanna frowned indignantly. "I was only trying to do you a kindness, Adam!" she protested quietly.

"No, you wanted Grace to like you," he retorted. "You told me so yourself," Adam reminded her.

"I defended you!" Susanna insisted. "Grace called you cold and unfeeling, unfaithful!" she persisted. "I assured her that you were not."

"Unfaithful?" Adam gasped, repeating the word as though it were a punch to the gut. Grace deemed him unfaithful? The sheer nerve, the sheer hypocrisy of that woman! "Do not ever discuss my private affairs with anyone again," Adam warned Susanna. "I don't care what your intentions are, Susanna, this is not something that I want repeated."

Susanna held onto Adam. "I won't!" she insisted. "But please, do not misunderstand what I say. I do believe that Grace was hurt deeply by the letter, too."

Adam wanted to laugh but feared such an act would draw too much attention. Grace hurt by her own letter? Preposterous. Unfaithful ... the word returned to his mind and it angered him to no end. He turned his head back to her, and she was still standing beside Kate, her fingers playing idly with the blue ribbon on her dress.

She would not apologise when they had met in the servants' quarters, and now she had spoken so brazenly to his own sister. Grace certainly had a lot to answer for, and Adam was no longer willing to put it out of his mind.

The moment he took a step away from Susanna, she whispered, "Where are you going?"

"To teach Grace the true meaning of faithfulness," replied Adam.