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Henry wasn’t the type to hide in a hallway, hoping to catch a woman alone. He had never been interested enough in one to even cross the room. Something about that mysterious woman had caught his attention. The black dress had told him she was still in mourning, but he didn’t know her by name. Due to his sister’s desire to meet as many players as possible, but being unable to keep a conversation short, they never met the woman or her elderly gentleman. So here he was, hoping to catch her on the way to her room. From the shadows he could remain hidden as she approached from the stairs.
The lamps cast light across her features and he felt hiss pulse quicken. Her skin was pale, with high cheek bones and a tiny pointed nose. Her eyes were cast down so he couldn’t be sure of the color, but his guess was blue. It was she hair that originally caught his eye. A mass of chestnut curls, pulled away from her face but allowed to fall down her back. Most women in society wore their hair up as a sign of propriety. She chose to rebel against that expectation.
He must have done something to catch her notice because she stopped. Standing in front of her door, key in hand, he saw her freeze like an animal in the woods. In the silence he watched her listen for any sound. Then he watched her head turn slowly, searching in the shadows for who else might be there. Before he was caught outright, Henry decided to step forward and show himself.
“Hello.” He spoke softly.
She didn’t appear frightened as she let her eyes move up from his feet to the top of his head. Those sharp blue-eyes were meticulous, noting carefully each detail of his appearance. Thankfully his valet was highly competent.
“I don’t believe we met downstairs.” Henry extended his hand to her, half expecting she would refuse but she didn’t. “I’m Lord Chadwick, but my friends call me Henry.”
“Lord Chadwick.” Those pink little lips of hers spit the words at him. “I’m not in the habit of introducing myself to strangers lurking in the hallways.”
She did have a point.
“I wasn’t lurking. I am returning from my sister’s room, a few doors down.”
Now those soft blue eyes narrowed on him. “Is that your partner for the weekend?”
Sharp enough to gather intelligence on the competition. He liked that.
“Yes, it was her idea actually. She can be very competitive.”
“Are you any good?”
That forthright question made him laugh, though her expression remained serious. It was refreshing to find a woman who didn’t try to be coy around a man.
“I’m told I am. I don’t think all the ladies would lie.”
He pulled the corners of his mouth up into a smile but she didn’t match the motion. She wasn’t offended but she wasn’t amused either.
“If your sister wants to win and chose you to be her partner you must be good.”
“I suppose we will see when we play against each other.”
She still hadn’t given her name, but Henry had learned a great deal about her. She was petite, even for a woman but she held her posture upright enough to appear taller. Her face was youthful, with those big blue eyes watching everything around her with a maturity that was in contrast to her appearance.
“Who is your partner?” he asked.
He suspected it was the much older gentlemen standing at her side earlier. A father or uncle perhaps. There had been nothing romantic in their body language together.
“A friend of my husband’s.” she said tartly.
That might be the reason she wore the black of mourning still. “Late husband?”
“Sadly yes.”
Henry had known a few widows before and often they looked anything but sad about the situation. This woman reflected genuine pain in her expression and he felt a tug of regret about asking.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“If you will excuse me.” She turned, as if to enter her room and easily dismissed him.
Henry wanted to say something to apologize again, but felt it might only make things worse. He acted like the gentleman, waiting quietly as she disappeared into her room.
“She’s a mysterious one.” A voice behind him said.
Her partner stood in hallway, glass of brandy in hand and a smile on his face beneath his white mustache.
“I shouldn’t have surprised her like that.” Henry said.
“Kitty doesn’t like to let anything surprise her.” The man said, still smiling affectionately at where she had disappeared behind the door. “Her late husband tried constantly but seldom succeeded in it.”
Henry stepped towards the man and introduced himself, so that the other man would do the same. Mr. Helms was not a name that Henry was familiar with and it surprised him that he was without a title.
“My partner is Lady Katherine Woolard, her late husband was a dear friend of mine.” The man paused to clear his throat. “He passed away less than a year ago. He was originally my partner for this tournament, but she has decided to play in his stead.”
The loss for her was still fresh and might explain her mood a great deal. If this was something being done to honor her husband’s memory she would be very protective of it. Perhaps his sister was right to view her as a formidable opponent.
“Walk with me?” Patrick nodded down the direction of the hall. “I’m worried I might not make it to the right room and Kitty would be worried if I became lost.”
Henry looked over his shoulder and his sister’s door was still closed. There might not be in harm in it if she didn’t know. He nodded and fell in step beside the man.
“I have heard of you and your sister.” Patrick said, sipping his brandy between words. “When Ephram and I used to play in London both of you were mentioned as being the best pair to play at house parties. Shame ladies aren’t able to play whist in more places.”
“Rory gets angry about that easily, so best not to mention it to her.” Henry chuckled.
“Are you playing for the prize purse? In need of the funds?”
Henry was taken back by the questions at first. He had never been asked so boldly if he was broke.
“No, we are playing for the fun of it like the rest of the players. This is hardly a party for those in dire straights.”
“That’s good. Keeps the game in good fun that way.”
A lull in the conversation gave him a moment to look at his companion more closely. The man couldn’t have been more than fifty, but he had white hair and mustache. He was dressed in a good traveling suit but it looked well-worn. Henry could see where it had been mended, indicating the man wasn’t as well off as the rest of the guests.
“How is it we haven’t met before?” Henry asked.
“Ephram preferred playing in the gentlemen clubs.”
“Yes, but if he was married he must have attended other social functions. My sister has been out for two seasons, so I was also there.”
“I never went to those sorts of things, but you might have met Ephram and Kitty a time or two.”
Harrold shook his head. He would have remembered if he met Katherine before. “I would have enjoyed meeting her husband. He sounds like an enjoyable fellow.”
The old man got the same sad expression Katherine had been wearing.
“Ephram was a wonderful man. “
For the second time in only a short period Henry was left with the feeling he had said the wrong thing. Hastily he tried to correct it.
“Will I see you both at dinner? I would like to introduce you to my sister.”
“Yes, I believe we will be down for that.” His eyes were misty and he blinked away the tears. “I look forward to seeing you.”
Henry waited until the man was in his room and the door was shut before turning around. That’s when he saw the crack in Katherine’s door. He couldn’t see her but knew she was there watching him through the crack. He gave her a wave as he headed downstairs.