Colin stretched his shoulders in a vain attempt to loosen his tailcoat. His eyes swept the music room, now crowded with guests for Elmthwaite’s three-hundredth anniversary party. A band played music in one corner and the notes mingled with the hum of conversation.
“Colin, may I introduce the Lord and Lady…”
He shook hands with the white-haired man and his fierce-looking wife, their names instantly forgotten the moment his father said them. Where was Nora? She’d told him yesterday she was coming.
“Colin,” a cool feminine voice murmured near his ear. Lady Sophia attached herself to his arm, a coy smile playing at her lips. She was dressed in a black dress with a low neckline. “As a friend of the family, I insist on having the first dance.”
He stifled the urge to shrug her off. Lady Sophia and her parents were the most esteemed of the party attendees. Still, that didn’t mean he enjoyed their company as much as his father did. Dinner followed by conversation in the drawing room with Lord and Lady Weatherly and their daughter the night before had been a long and tedious affair.
Forcing a smile, Colin artfully extracted Lady Sophia from his side, while still gripping her hand in a solicitous manner. “Of course.”
“I look forward to it.” She gave him an unabashed look before sauntering away.
Colin glanced at the music room’s double doors. The line of guests continued to wind their way inside, but he couldn’t see Nora among them. In the past, he’d never stayed in the receiving line for long. Instead he’d left the dreary job to Christian and his parents, while he wandered off to visit or dance.
He plucked at his white bow tie, certain Gibson had meant to strangle him by securing it so tightly. If only he could stand closer to the open doors that exited onto the terrace outside, then he might manage to feel a breeze in all this stuffy, warm air.
After what felt an eternity of standing and smiling, his parents left their positions near the inner doors to mingle with their guests. Colin headed straight outside. Leaning over the stone railing, he breathed in lungfuls of the cool, night air.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Colin grinned at the sound of Nora’s voice behind him. He straightened and turned around. The sarcastic retort on his tongue died at the sight of her. Back-lit by the lights of the party, her red hair glowed like fire beneath her headband, falling in cascades over one shoulder. Her light purple dress highlighted the pink of her cheeks and lips.
Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction and confidence, then with hidden laughter, as Colin stood there gaping. “Nothing to say?” Those delicious lips turned up in an impish smile, revealing her dimple. “I think that’s a first, Mr. Ashby.”
“You’re late, Miss Lewis,” he said, finding his voice at last. He crossed the terrace to take her hand in his.
The look she gave him was more amusement than contrition. “I apologize. But you’d be late, too, if you had to walk up the road in these heels and without getting them muddy.” She lifted one of her white shoes. “I nearly wore my wellies instead.”
She’d walked from her cottage to Elmthwaite Hall in an evening dress and heels? Colin battled the temptation to kiss her mouth right then and there. Instead he twisted her hand and pressed his lips to the skin of her wrist. He was glad she wasn’t wearing gloves like the other women. “I’m glad you came. You look exquisite.”
His compliment succeeded in infusing more color into her cheeks. “Thank you. You look very sophisticated yourself.” She fingered the sleeve of his tailcoat. “I haven’t seen you this dressed up since my first night in Larksbeck.”
“Believe me, I prefer those old work clothes from last week to this,” he muttered, leaning close. Her hair smelled of roses and Colin allowed himself a moment to breathe in the sweet scent before he straightened and motioned toward the music room. “Would you like to meet my parents?”
She nodded, though she didn’t make a move to follow. A look of trepidation had chased some of the spark from her eyes.
“They’re going to like you,” he reassured, “I promise.”
At least his mother would. He wasn’t sure about his father. It had taken some serious convincing for Sir Edward to agree to Colin’s idea to invite Nora. He’d finally helped his father see the wisdom in the decision. If Sir Edward meant to buy her out, then having Nora at the party might show her and the villagers he meant no ill will with the business endeavor.
Niggling doubts still irritated Colin’s conscience regarding his father’s plans, but he’d nearly replaced them with thoughts of self-assurance. He would come up with some way to keep his father happy and Nora here. He had to. The idea of Nora leaving him was unthinkable.
“All right.” Her shoulders rose with a sigh, but she followed after him.
He guided her into the crowded room and searched for his mother. She was talking with Lyle. Colin led Nora over to them. Clapping his free hand on Lyle’s shoulder, Colin caught his mother’s eye and smiled. “May I interrupt? Mother, I’d like you to meet Nora Lewis. Nora, this is my mother, Lady Ashby.”
Nora stepped forward and extended her hand. His mother took it between both of hers. “Miss Lewis, thank you for coming. I’m so happy to make your acquaintance.” She bent close as she added, “Even more happy to learn you’ve willingly put up with my son’s antics.”
The two women exchanged a smile. “I assure you, Lady Ashby, he is the perfect gentleman.” Colin bit back a chuckle as Nora threw the last word over her shoulder at him.
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
Nora and Lyle exchanged greetings as Colin scanned the room for his father. The band’s lively music had changed to a waltz. He spied his father at last, in what appeared to be a heated debate with Lord Weatherly and another man.
“Come with me. I want you to meet my father.” He captured Nora’s hand again and wound his way around the perimeter of the room. Space had been cleared away in the middle to allow for dancing.
“Colin.” Lady Sophia blocked their path. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” She glanced past him to Nora, then down at their joined hands. One eyebrow rose. “Who’s this?”
“Lady Sophia, Nora Lewis.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nora said, her voice void of sarcasm despite the other woman’s unfriendliness.
“An American, how charming. No wonder you’re enthralled, Colin.” Lady Sophia gave a simpering sniff. Colin sensed Nora stiffen behind him at the other lady’s condescending tone. “What a quaint dress. I had one that looked nearly the same, last year.”
How could he possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone so superficial and self-absorbed? “If you’ll excuse us—”
“But, Colin, you promised me the first dance.” Her eyes narrowed as she turned to Nora. “You don’t mind, do you, Miss Lewis? He did give me his word.”
Nora shook her head and slipped her hand from his. “Go ahead, Col—Mr. Ashby. I can meet your father later.”
He threw her a pained look as Lady Sophia latched on to his arm. “Don’t leave,” he mouthed.
“I won’t,” she whispered back.
Lady Sophia dragged him toward the dance floor and he lost sight of Nora in the press of people. His mother’s words from the other week echoed loudly in his mind: You’re welcome to invite her, but do you think that’s wise?
Had his mother known something Colin hadn’t? Did she suspect, even then, the sort of reception Nora would receive from their so-called friends? He hoped to prove her wrong. But as he forced himself to take Lady Sophia in hand for the waltz, he feared the person who might be wrong was himself.
* * *
Nora intended to return to Lady Ashby and Lyle, who were still conversing, but a young man with a mustache asked her to waltz. She accepted. He led her onto the dance floor as Colin and Lady Sophia spun past. The two of them made a handsome couple, with his dark hair and her blond. The other young lady oozed wealth and society, but Nora had recognized in a matter of seconds the black heart beneath Lady Sophia’s black dress. Colin’s mother, on the other hand, had been surprisingly genuine and kind. Nora saw much of Colin in Lady Ashby’s demeanor.
“You’re American,” her dance partner said with a smile as they began waltzing. “Are you here on holiday?”
Nora shook her head. “I live nearby.”
“In Keswick?”
“No. My home is down the road.”
The young man frowned. “I saw only farm cottages on the way to Elmthwaite Hall.”
“Yes, and one of those cottages is mine.” She lifted her chin a notch. “I inherited my grandfather’s sheep farm a few months ago.”
“You don’t say? How interesting.” The words sounded more sardonic than sincere.
Nora attempted conversation, but the young man kept his answers short and kept gazing about the room as if searching for someone else. When the dance ended, she felt great relief. Nora looked for Colin, but she couldn’t find him. Once again she tried to make her way to Lyle, only to be asked to dance by another man.
The pattern repeated itself several more times. The young men would comment on her being American, which they seemed to find fascinating. However, the moment they learned she was simply a sheep farmer from down the road, their reception turned cool. At one point she even overheard one of her former dance partners mutter the words social climber to another young lady. Nora didn’t have to guess who he meant.
Fighting a headache, she declined to dance a sixth time. She needed something to drink and a reprieve from the constant affronts to her humble life and her reasons for being at the party.
Nora made her way through the press of people to the refreshment room and requested some tea. Cup and saucer in hand, she turned to watch the people milling about the room. An older gentleman entered and approached the table, his hair a mixture of gray and white. Nora recognized enough of Colin in his height and jawline to know this was Sir Edward Ashby.
She lowered her teacup to introduce herself, but the words stuck in her throat. Would he also disapprove of her? When he noticed her standing there, his steps came to an abrupt halt. His eyes widened as he stared at her, and his face drained of color.
“Eleanor?” The name was hardly more than a whisper, but Nora heard him nonetheless.
“No. I’m Nora Lewis. I inherited Henry’s farm. Eleanor is my moth—” The explanation died on her tongue. Realization crashed over her and Nora sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re E, aren’t you? You knew my mother.”
Sir Edward flushed a deep red. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady. If you’ll excuse me.” He spun on his heel and marched from the room.
Her hand trembling slightly, Nora set her nearly full teacup and saucer back onto the table. A keen sense of regret filled her as she returned to the ballroom and took in the glittering display before her. The young men sporting tail coats and slick smiles, the young women playing coy in their expensive gowns and jewelry. Her eyes followed Colin, dancing with Lady Sophia again. When he chuckled at something the other young woman said, Nora’s stomach twisted in response.
She didn’t belong here—nearly everyone she’d met, including Colin’s father, had made that perfectly clear. Just as he had to her mother, Eleanor.
Tears swam in her eyes, but she willed them back. The soft night beckoned beyond the crowded room and Nora gave in, escaping to the terrace. Outside, the fresh air washed the flush from her face. She leaned against the rough stones of the railing, much like Colin had when she’d found him. Had it really been less than an hour ago that she’d felt so full of hope and promise? The way Colin had gawked at her, speechless, had left her feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world. But did he still think so now?
She considered going home, but she didn’t want to leave without telling Colin good-bye. Running her fingers along the railing, she started down the three steps that led to the manicured grounds. A firm hand claimed hers and stopped her retreat. Nora turned to find Colin standing above her on the terrace, a questioning smile on his handsome face.
“Where are you off to?”
Nora glanced at the path ahead. “I thought I’d walk around a bit.”
“Then I’ll join you.”
She moved over to allow him down the steps. He didn’t release her hand, much to her gratitude, as they walked along the gravel path. Their shoes crunched softly in the moonlit night. Colin stopped her beside a beautiful, flowering bush. The music from inside still reached them.
“What do you think of the party?” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I saw you dancing.”
Nora swallowed, grateful the shadows hid her true expression. “Elmthwaite is as beautiful as ever.”
She sensed his frown. “But?”
“I very much enjoyed meeting your mother,” she hedged in a bright voice.
“Yes, Mother is extraordinary. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to introduce you to my father earlier.”
Nora plucked a flower from the bush and brought the bloom to her nose. “I met him,” she said, inhaling the heady scent.
“You did? When?”
“While you were dancing.” She let the flower tumble to the ground. “He called me Eleanor.”
“Eleanor?” Colin repeated in surprise. “You mean he knew your mother, too?”
“Colin, he’s E. From Eleanor’s diary.”
He didn’t respond right away. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. He looked at me as if he were seeing her again. Then when I asked him if he was E…”
Colin’s free hand tilted her chin upward. “What did he say?”
“He excused himself and left without another word.”
“Ah. Therein lies the proof.”
The sting of Sir Edward’s rebuff lanced through her again. In need of Colin’s strength, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against the lapel of his tailcoat. He held her, one hand playing with the waves of her hair. Neither of them spoke until the present song ended and another began.
“What happened between E and Eleanor?” Colin inquired in a soft voice.
Nora squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he hadn’t asked. The similarities between her and her mother and their love for these wealthy Ashby men were uncanny and a bit frightening. Would history repeat itself? She pushed out a sigh and opened her eyes. “His father wouldn’t condone a marriage between them, so E eventually told her good-bye.”
“So…my father and your mother might have married?”
She eased back to look at him. “We could have been brother and sister.”
His eyes, though shadowed, gleamed with intensity. “Then I must say I’m grateful things didn’t work out between them.”
The music spilling into the garden was another waltz. Colin glanced in the direction of the house, then back at Nora. “Would you do me the honor of this dance, Miss Lewis?”
She couldn’t help a tiny smile—he’d been the only one she wanted to dance with. “Yes, Mr. Ashby.”
He led her to a patch of grass beside the path and they began to dance. She followed his lead, even as he began improvising the familiar steps with fancy spins.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?” she asked with a laugh.
“Christian.” It was the first time she’d heard him mention his brother without the undercurrent of regret. “I taught him how to converse with the young ladies and he taught me how to dance with them.”
“What was he like?”
Colin slowed the pace of their steps. “He was serious, prone to thinking first and acting second. I’m sure you can guess I was quite the opposite.” Nora smiled at the vision in her head of Colin as an exuberant, impulsive boy. “But he also had a way of coaxing me out of a bad mood when Father had said or done something irritating. One couldn’t be unhappy for long when Christian was happy.”
“He sounds like a good brother.”
“He was.” Colin spun her away from him. “He would have liked you, very much.” He pulled her back and resumed dancing. “I want you to like my family, Nora. I want you to like it here…at Elmthwaite.”
The snubs she’d experienced the last hour repeated in her mind. Could she imagine herself being happy in this sort of life? While Colin easily slipped from her world of necessity and toil to the ease and affluence of estate life, she found the contrast jarring and uncomfortable.
“I do like it here.” She bit her lip to stop the rush of emotion in her throat as he dipped her back. “But my place is in the cottage down the road, not in an elaborate drawing room like you. I don’t think I can—”
His lips met hers, stealing away her protest and setting Nora’s pulse to galloping. He eased back, leaving her breathless, and lifted her gently to her feet before he kissed her again. Nora encircled her hands around his neck. His tender kiss, though brief, succeeded in chasing away her doubts.
Colin pressed his forehead to hers, their breath mingling in the cool night. “We’ll make it work, Nora. Somehow. I promise.” His mouth lifted in a smile that sent a ripple of feeling through her middle. “And a…” He paused, waiting for her to supply the answer.
“Gentleman,” she finished in a whisper.
“Always keeps his word.”