Hester hadn’t counted the hours until Nathaniel’s departure the following Friday, but she couldn’t deny that when she woke the morning after he’d left it was with a heavier heart than she’d like. He’d be gone for a week, and the prospect of Shardlow without him seemed strange, somehow—ironically enough, considering how many times since his return she’d wished for exactly that.
With a languid stretch of sleepy muscles Hester sat up in bed and surveyed her empty bedroom, attempting to ignore the niggle that gnawed immediately beneath her ribs. If Nathaniel had to miss this evening’s gathering, so be it. The only alternative would have been to beg him to stay, and she’d rather bear a night of disappointment than risk her pride. Whatever his newfound humanity, the business still came first—as she was well aware—and she wasn’t such a fool as to hope anything different.
Leaning back against her pillows, Hester twisted her disordered curls up in one hand, feeling their soft weight. Should she perform her toilette at Farleigh? she wondered. It would be far more pleasant to dress her hair and herself with Diana for company, and her sister would surely chase away any lingering disappointment Nathaniel’s absence had left at the back of her mind. Time with Diana might be just what she needed, and as she heard a soft knock at the door Hester made her decision.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’
‘Good morning, Arless. I’ve been thinking about this evening. Would you please have my gown and things for later packed and sent over to Lady Lavendon? I’ll do my toilette at Farleigh, I think, before the ball.’
‘Of course, ma’am. I’ll see to it at once.’
Watching the maid bustle to open the curtains, Hester nodded to herself. It was always a pleasure to see her sister, her sweet nature the perfect foil for whatever disagreeable sensations twined through Hester’s gut. Maybe she’d even be able to forget about Nathaniel for a short while beneath Diana’s roof, some part of her considered—even as the rest of her knew it was as likely as learning to fly.
If it was a distraction Hester wanted later that evening, Diana seemed more than happy to oblige.
‘Now, Hester, you’re nearly finished...’ Lady Lavendon held her head to one side, inspecting her sister as a scholar might a rare book, her French lady’s maid hovering at her shoulder.
It seemed something was wanting, and Hester stood as patiently as she could manage as she waited for the verdict.
‘Yes. Very nearly. If you’d allow Brigitte to apply just the tiniest hint of rouge...’
‘No, thank you.’ Hester ducked away, only narrowly escaping an attack on her cheek. ‘I’ve been primped and prodded quite enough. I didn’t realise what sharing a titled lady’s toilette entailed—getting you ready is an event in itself.’
Studying her reflection in the grand dressing mirror of her equally grand rooms, Diana adjusted a stray feather. In her soft green gown she looked like a wood nymph, willowy and lovely as a classical statuette.
‘It’s expected of me these days, I’m afraid. Lavendon has influence and therefore so do I—whether I want it or not. People look to me to set an example, and that includes in how to dress.’
‘I’m not sure I envy you that. I wouldn’t know where to begin in setting myself up as a fashion plate.’
‘Nonsense. You look beautiful tonight. It’s a shame Nathaniel isn’t here to see you.’
Smoothing down the front of her pale blue gown, Hester carefully avoided her sister’s eye. It was the first time he’d been mentioned all day, and the mere sound of his name brought colour to her face with no need for rouge. ‘Well, his father couldn’t spare him. The business, you know...’
‘Oh, I know. That Mr Honeywell.’ Diana pursed her lips, teasing an already perfect curl between two fingers. ‘Can’t allow anything to distract his son from making money, can he?’
‘I don’t know that I’m much of a distraction.’
‘You shouldn’t be so sure. I saw how Nathaniel looked at you last time you were here. I was half afraid he was going to eat you.’
Hester’s head jerked up. A swift glance showed Brigitte busy arranging a vast box of ribbons, mercifully not listening to her mistress’s conversation, but Hester flashed Diana a warning look.
‘He did no such thing. Don’t be absurd.’
‘It’s true.’ Finally satisfied with the set of each ringlet, Diana shifted her attention to Hester, not repentant in the least. ‘You couldn’t move an inch without him noticing, and I’m quite sure at one point he was openly staring. You needn’t believe me if you’d rather not. Lavendon saw it too, however, and he quite agreed.’
‘You discuss my marriage with Lavendon?’ Hester almost choked. It was uncomfortable to know her own sister harboured such dangerous opinions, but dragging her brother-in-law into it too... ‘He knows your thoughts?’
‘Of course. He’s my friend as well as my husband. Something I’d love you to discover for yourself.’
It was Hester’s turn to examine herself in the mirror and she did so now, although she hardly saw what lay before her as she stared into the glass. Surely Diana couldn’t be right? Nathaniel would never have watched her so hungrily, calling to mind a picture of a child with a cake. It was just wishful thinking on her sister’s part—the romantic side of Diana’s nature crying out for everyone to feel the same magic of young love that she lived daily.
As much as Hester might desire it that would never be the truth, and it was with a hint of sadness that she affected a shrug. ‘Nathaniel and I are friends. Just...not anything more.’
‘If you say so.’
Diana smiled, her tone so indulgent it made Hester feel about six years old. Clearly nothing would change Diana’s mind now she had made it up—including the cold truth—and, resigned to her fate, Hester took her sister’s arm.
‘Ought we be going down? Your guests will be arriving soon, and they’ll be desperate to see what you’re wearing.’
A raised eyebrow met her feigned concern. ‘If I didn’t know better, Hess, I might think you were teasing me.’
‘Teasing the famous, trendsetting Lady Lavendon? I wouldn’t dare.’
Together the sisters descended the stairs, two birds of paradise glittering beneath Farleigh’s enormous crystal chandeliers. Hester had been right. Diana’s guests began to appear almost at once, and Lady Lavendon turned on the full power of her gracious hostess charm.
‘I’ll see you in a little while,’ Hester murmured as yet another well-dressed couple made a beeline for Diana. ‘I know you have work to do.’
‘Just don’t stray too far. You may need to come to the rescue if Sir Neville starts telling me about Waterloo. Again.’
Leaving Diana to her duties, Hester withdrew further into the ballroom. It was filling fast, and everywhere she looked showed the highest of high society crowding in: men proud of shapely calves and women hoping to display a new gown—and the figure inside it—to its best advantage.
There were many faces she recognised, but just as many she didn’t, doubtless belonging to titled individuals she’d never met, and Hester couldn’t help but wonder at how far her sister’s star had risen. A merchant’s daughter married to a lord... Many of the ton’s young ladies were resentful that Diana had taken the biggest prize, but as Hester watched Lord Lavendon move to stand proudly beside his wife she knew that for him there could never have been anyone else.
The sight of Diana’s happiness lifted some of the despondency lurking at the back of Hester’s mind; but not all of it, and with a concealed sigh she looked away.
Where was her own husband at that moment? Hidden away in his London office, lost in a world of taxes and insurance and debts owing to the firm. Something as inconsequential as a ball would be far from his thoughts and her along with it, more important concerns occupying the space she would never inhabit.
It was a fact she had to accept, and she tried to force resignation as she straightened her skirts. Anyone could have seen how Nathaniel hesitated when given the choice between the ball and visiting his warehouses, obviously torn between his promise and his true desires, and she’d known at once that she would release him.
Going to a party on her own was uncomfortably reminiscent of five years prior, when Nathaniel had never been able to spare an evening from his work, but there was little to be done about that. Her growing feelings could bring nothing good, clearly, so she would ignore them, placing them back in their box as a bittersweet reminder of when she’d harboured hopes for the future that would never bear fruit.
Another scan of the room helped cheer her, however. Several friendly faces were turned in her direction and Hester moved to join the nearest group, wending her way through the chattering throng until she was taken by a welcoming hand.
‘Hess! How well you look tonight!’
Mrs Agnes Grey, a friend since their days in short gowns, kissed Hester’s cheek. Her husband gave Hester a grateful nod and left at once for the siren call of the card room, evidently relieved to have escaped as the band began its first few tenuous notes and the lines for dancing began to form.
Agnes slipped a hand through Hester’s arm. ‘We old married ladies must sit out the dancing, I suppose. Come and take a glass of punch with me instead.’
They retreated to one side of the room, where refreshments beckoned. When both were furnished with a full glass, Agnes laughed.
‘Did you notice how quickly Grey left for the gaming tables? Apparently Lord Finton is here tonight. By all accounts he’s a terrible whist player and throws money around like water. Quite a sight to be seen, apparently.’
‘I can well imagine.’ Hester grimaced. ‘What a fine thing to have more money than sense.’
Agnes smiled, although it struck Hester as a little uncertain. ‘Did Nathaniel feel the lure of the tables too? I haven’t seen him.’
‘No.’ Hester pretended to watch the dancing for a moment, hoping to hide the sudden drop in her stomach at the mention of his name. ‘He’s in London on business.’
‘Ah.’ Agnes peered down into her glass. When she spoke her voice was soft, and Hester had to lean in to catch it. ‘I confess, dearest, I was a little surprised you didn’t mention his return. I heard it in passing, and was more amazed than I can say.’
The twist in Hester’s stomach increased. Agnes didn’t sound indignant, more confused if anything, and Hester could have kicked herself. She should have told Agnes herself. Instead the rumour mill had got there first, and now her oldest friend was probably hurt to be excluded.
‘In truth, I hardly knew how to speak of it. It’s been the most...unusual time. I’m sorry if my silence upset you.’
Agnes took Hester’s hand with a gentle squeeze. ‘You don’t owe me an apology of any kind. I was worried, not offended. I hoped you weren’t distressed, that’s all—’
She broke off, suddenly looking over Hester’s shoulder.
Her face fell. ‘Oh, dear. My sister-in-law is coming our way. Be on your guard—she’s desperate for the full tale of Nathaniel’s return, and I’m afraid her motives are less genuine than your friends’. The faintest hint of gossip and she descends like a hound on a fox, and a husband back from the dead is the best thing she’s heard of in many a year.’
Hester steeled herself at once. ‘Then I fear she’ll have to be disappointed. I don’t even know any details of Nathaniel’s miraculous reappearance myself.’
‘No?’ Agnes frowned briefly. ‘Even so... You may not want to share the information you do have with Ellen. Not unless you want your private affairs all around town by tomorrow morning.’
A presence loomed at Hester’s elbow and she closed her eyes for a half-second before turning round. ‘Good evening, Miss Grey.’
‘Mrs Honeywell.’
Agnes’s sister-in-law dropped a short curtsey and came up alight with avid interest. It radiated from her in an almost tangible force, making Hester want to take a step back.
There was no preamble to her eagerness, not even any pretence at polite chatter to help pave the way to the main event. ‘Your husband’s return is all anyone can talk of. It’s just too thrilling!’
Miss Grey craned her neck to peer among the crowd. It was obvious who she was looking for—or at least it was to Hester, who took a sip of punch before making a carefully measured reply.
‘Mr Honeywell isn’t here. He has business in London that needs attending to most urgently.’
She could sense Agnes’s discomfort, but had no time to do anything about it as Miss Grey leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper that invited confidence while offering none in return.
‘Avoiding having to be seen in public? It’s true, then, that he staggered back to Shardlow with half his face gone and missing one hand entirely?’
‘Ellen!’
Poor Agnes looked agonised at her sister-in-law’s complete lack of grace, and Hester could barely control a flare of irritation. Was that what people were saying? Exaggerating Nathaniel’s injuries for their own ghoulish entertainment?
‘No,’ Hester answered shortly. ‘One eye and one finger is the extent of his loss, and I’d appreciate it if you could correct anybody who says otherwise.’
‘Oh.’ For a moment Miss Grey’s enthusiasm ebbed, but in the next breath she bounced back. ‘May I ask how it happened?’
‘You may ask, but it’s not in my power to tell you.’
It seemed her lack of insight was disappointing. Hester saw Miss Grey’s brow crease, evidently at a loss as to how one could fail to know every minute detail of such a fascinatingly morbid event and then selfishly deny everyone else the tale.
She gave it one last try. ‘It must have been a huge shock to find Mr Honeywell altered to such a degree. How was it to see him so changed from before?’
Hester hesitated. Such a tactless question didn’t deserve any consideration, and yet it hit home, forcing her to take another sip from her glass to cover the pause. Nathaniel was altered and she couldn’t deny it—although not only in the shallow way Miss Grey implied. His face was marked and his right hand maimed, but it was the transformation to his character that was the most striking—and, she thought with sudden warmth beneath the bodice of her gown, the most important.
He could have come back with no face whatsoever and his new nature would still have called to her. A perfect countenance was a pale substitute for the better man she was getting to know.
‘He is indeed changed from before he went away. There may be differences—but I can’t say they are for the worse. In fact, I might even say in some ways he’s improved.’
Miss Grey’s eyes lit up with fresh curiosity, but her chance to dig further was stolen by a voice from behind them.
‘I’m sure that’s praise I don’t deserve.’ Nathaniel stepped forward, offering a gentlemanly bow to each surprised woman in turn. ‘But I’ll accept it nonetheless. Good evening, Hester. I’m sorry I’m late.’
Hidden by his waistcoat, Nathaniel’s heart raced as he took in every detail of the vision before him. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but Hester captured every last fibre of his attention and there was nothing on earth that could distract him.
The powder-blue of her gown shimmered slightly in the candlelight, its cut hinting delicately at what might lie beneath. It was the perfect colour to set off her dark blonde curls and they gleamed almost gold, the ringlets at each ear accented by a stylish arrangement of white feathers that only added to the angelic impression.
But it was her face that eclipsed all else. Shock was turning rapidly to wonder—and then came a smile so blindingly beautiful it made everything and everyone around him dull by comparison. If he’d harboured any doubts about his rash decision to ride through the night, apparently abandoning good sense entirely, just one look at Hester convinced him he’d made the right choice.
‘Nathaniel!’ She gazed up at him, cornflower eyes full of questions. ‘But...why aren’t you in London? How is it you’re here?’
It was an effort to think of an adequate reply while his pulse still leaped and the rapt stares of all three women were fixed on him. Thankfully, however, Agnes Grey seemed to understand.
‘Come with me, Ellen.’ She linked her sister-in-law’s arm and began to gently guide her away. ‘I see Mrs Stokes standing alone, and I’m sure she’d be glad of some company.’
Miss Grey didn’t look delighted to be leaving at such an interesting juncture, but there was little she could do as Agnes plunged them both back into the crowd, Nathaniel and Hester watching the two retreat until they found themselves alone.
‘Well...’
Hester’s mouth was still lifted in the prettiest curve he’d ever seen. She looked genuinely pleased to see him; all the reward he could possibly desire for taking such an enormous risk.
‘I certainly wasn’t expecting this. I thought you had great heaps of work to plough through and wouldn’t see the light of day for a week. Did you manage to finish earlier than planned?’
‘Not exactly.’
At her inquisitive glance Nathaniel took a breath. During the whole long ride from the city to Thame Magna he’d rehearsed this moment, wondering what he might say, but as Hester waited he realised the best reply was the truth. Or at least something close to it.
Casting his mind back to the unpleasant scene earlier that evening, Nathaniel hid a grimace. In all likelihood his father was still angry—coldly and quietly, but angry nonetheless. It would take a long time for any forgiveness to come Nathaniel’s way, if at all, although that hardly seemed to matter now, in the heady warmth of Hester’s smile.
‘Oh! Nathaniel! You came after all?’
A flurry of feathers made them both turn. Diana stood looking delightedly from one to the other, her colour high and her eyes sparkling, and he noticed a strange unspoken exchange pass between the two sisters. It seemed to require only the subtle movement of eyebrows but they appeared to understand each other implicitly, Diana’s raised and Hester’s furrowed—even more severely when Lady Lavendon seized his arm.
‘I must have you and Hester dance. I know it’s not considered terribly fashionable to dance with one’s own wife, but you’ll indulge me, won’t you? You look so well together tonight.’
He bowed, feeling a touch of heat beginning to rise. What man wouldn’t want to dance with the goddess that was Hester that evening, her slim back and lifted chin surely raising pulses all over the room?
‘I wouldn’t want to disappoint my hostess. If Hester will have me, I’d be honoured.’
He caught a wordless flash of Hester’s eyes in Diana’s direction, but when she faced him she seemed perfectly composed. ‘Of course. If my sister commands us.’
Even with a glove separating her skin from his, Nathaniel’s still prickled as he took her hand and together they found their places in the set. The band struck up and the couples nearer the top began to move, Nathaniel and Hester standing opposite each other while they waited their turn.
‘So, will you tell me how you’re here?’ Hester had to raise her voice a little to be heard above the surrounding din of voices and music. ‘I thought you were to tour the warehouses all week?’
‘I decided on a change of plan.’
‘That much is evident. What happened?’
Nathaniel surveyed the couples on his left and right. Nobody was paying him any mind. The men only had eyes for their partners and vice versa, their attention fixed elsewhere.
‘I’d agreed to be here with you tonight before my father raised the notion of going to London. I realised I was in the wrong place, so I came back to rectify my mistake.’
‘But...won’t he be displeased?’
A brief picture of Mr Honeywell’s tight, furious face flickered in Nathaniel’s memory. ‘He can be if he likes. I’m not a child, to be ordered by anybody but myself.’
Hester shook her head, candlelight glancing off her curls. ‘I can’t believe you’d choose a ball over working. I feel I hardly know you at all!’
Nathaniel looked down at his boots, suddenly unsure. The truth balanced on the tip of his tongue, one he hardly knew how she would receive, and yet he couldn’t quite manage to restrain it.
‘It wasn’t the ball I chose. It was you.’
It was as though all the air had been sucked from the room. Hester’s gaze clouded with uncertainty, searching his face like one suspecting a joke at her expense.
‘Me?’
‘I didn’t want to let you down again. It seems I did that enough five years ago.’
Her lips parted in surprise but nothing came, leaving Nathaniel with no idea what his wife was thinking—and no immediate way of finding out, as the couple to his left stepped forward and there was nothing to do but follow them, cutting off any hope of conversation until the end of the dance.
Talking might be out of the question but perhaps words weren’t needed. He almost felt Hester’s eyes fix on him, and the expression in their depths stole every breath from his burning lungs. Looking into the azure shadows, he saw a hundred unspoken questions, one chasing after the next but none able to hide the beautiful confusion in her glowing face.
There might as well have been no one else in the room for all Nathaniel could look away, he and Hester joined together by an invisible thread that stretched from one leaping heart to the other and tightened with each step. All the soul-searching and uncertainty seemed worth it just to see her move, and now Nathaniel couldn’t imagine why he’d ever doubted himself.
Sitting behind his London desk, he had found his thoughts refusing to fix on his work, constantly drifting back to Hester and the disappointment he feared his actions had caused until he hadn’t been able to stand any more. It was the choice he should have made from the very beginning—his wife’s feelings over faceless profit, although the frightening novelty of such a thing still shook him to the core.
Coming together in the centre of the set Nathaniel took Hester’s hand. They touched for the briefest of moments and yet a streak of lightning lanced the length of his arm, settling in his chest to make him wonder if he was suffocating. She came closer still, the searing connection now joined by an unbearable urge to abandon all sense and seize her in his arms. Circling each other like a pair of hungry wolves the air felt static, something in it brooding and waiting, somehow, like the calm before the breaking of a storm; the band must still be playing, and the other dancers moving, but for Nathaniel there was nothing in the world but that sapphire gaze and the heat of one gloved hand.
His mind seemed to have gone curiously blank. He moved in a daze as all thought fled to be replaced by sensation: Hester’s delicate fingers in his, slight dizziness as she rose and fell with perfect timing, but all the while holding his unwavering attention without a single word.
Perhaps he’d said too much. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her the conclusion he’d come to as he’d sat at his lonely desk. But surely no man alive could have looked at her and not felt the same weakness Nathaniel did as she spun gracefully, skirts floating out and catching the light to make her shine brighter still.
The dance might have lasted minutes or hours. He couldn’t tell for how long Hester skipped in and out of arm’s reach, the temptation to capture her growing with every beat until the music finished and he had no excuse to lay claim to her any longer—something it seemed Lord Lavendon had been waiting for.
‘Honeywell! Diana told me you were here.’ Their host broke in, unwittingly shattering the tension that held both Nathaniel and Hester in its thrall. ‘Just the man I need, if Hess can spare you.’
Hester stepped back demurely, although her cheeks were suffused with a flush that only increased her prettiness—and Nathaniel’s pulse. ‘Of course. I was thinking of going out for some air anyway.’
‘Excellent.’ Lord Lavendon leaned down to mutter closer to Hester’s ear. ‘You’ll find your sister hiding on the terrace. She’s doing a fine job, but even the best hostess needs a break occasionally.’
‘I’ll go to find her. If you’ll excuse me?’
She dipped a vague curtsey and moved away, Nathaniel’s heart sinking slightly as he watched her slip through the dense crowd. He didn’t want her to go. While they were dancing she’d almost been in his arms, although the unreadable glance she shot him over her shoulder now, just before she disappeared, was enough to make him pause.
Lavendon clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come into the card room. Finton is gambling away half his fortune and I need a man of good financial sense to talk him down.’
‘And you came to me? Was the selection really that poor?’ Nathaniel forced a smile, although his innards felt like a writhing bag of snakes. What was that connection? Hester must have felt it too. It was more than a dance, surely, and yet with Hester it was always so difficult to be sure...
Mercifully Lord Lavendon remained oblivious to his brother-in-law’s turmoil. ‘Don’t be an ass, Honeywell. Everybody knows you have the best head for business this side of London.’ He stopped for a moment, a slow grin unfurling. ‘Although perhaps that’s changing. Diana mentioned you should be working at this very minute, only something—or perhaps someone—made you return early.’
Nathaniel only realised he must look as flustered as he felt when Lavendon barked a laugh. ‘I see. Well, there’s no shame in it. My wife is my main concern, and I don’t mind who knows it. From what Diana tells me, it’s about time you started feeling that way about your own.’
It would be bad manners to flee from one’s host, Nathaniel imagined, although the temptation to do just that was strong. The conversation was getting a little too close to the bone for comfort, and with another forced smile he attempted a diversion before it was too late.
‘Lord Finton, then. How much has he lost?’
The rest of the evening was far less eventful than the start—at least concerning Hester. Nathaniel hardly laid eyes on her again until it was time to leave, and only when he was helping her down the carriage steps on their return to Shardlow did he feel her hand in his once again. She hadn’t spoken at all on the journey, instead sitting with her gaze fixed on something beyond the darkened window that Nathaniel hadn’t been able to see, whatever she was thinking hidden from him behind determinedly averted eyes.
Reaching his room, he sank wearily down onto the bed and sat for a moment in silence, staring unseeing at the floor. The house was quiet, cloaked in the deep silence of the night, the gentle crackle of flames in the fireplace the only sound and their orange glow lighting Nathaniel’s face as he buried it in his hands.
What had possessed him to speak out loud of the feelings that had grown so slowly since his return? The regard for Hester that now threatened everything he’d thought he believed? For all their determination to be friends he still had a long way to go before he could consider himself forgiven, and with a low groan Nathaniel tightened his fingers.
Would things be strained between them? Had he ventured too far at last, revealing the gradual but terrifying truth that Hester meant more to him now than profit and ambition ever could?
Nathaniel sat for a while, still cradling his head as a storm clashed inside it. He might have stayed like that all night if a faint scratch hadn’t caught his ear, soon joined by another sound that made his head jerk up sharply.
There was no mistaking it, although it was so unlikely that for a moment he was sure he must be dreaming: the distinctive rasp of a key turning in a stiff lock, followed after a breathless pause by the tentative creak of unoiled hinges.
From the side of the bed Nathaniel could only watch in stunned silence as the unused door between his room and Hester’s opened slowly—so slowly that time seemed to stand still—and then she was before him, wearing only her nightgown and the set face of a woman who had made up her mind.