smile. “I will find a way to get you one. I promise.”
Georgiana was brought back to the present by the sensation of Ambrose gently squeezing her hand underneath the table. She startled slightly, but then saw he was trying to get her attention, because the main course was being served.
“Thank you, Ambrose,” she told him, taking a deep breath.
He gave her hand another squeeze before releasing it. “Always.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without you for the last couple of years…” she said, but she stopped there. She knew the tears already threatening to spill would not be held back any longer if she continued.
“Hey,” Ambrose nudged her with a tentative smile. “I know I have already volunteered to be your shoulder to cry on whenever you need one, but I don’t think now is the right time or place.”
Georgiana tried to chuckle, but somehow it came out as a half-sob. The moment was made worse because Ambrose seemed on the verge of panic, and he clearly had no idea what to say or do.
“I’m alright. At least … I will be…” she managed to tell him after a moment. That seemed to help him relax, and he turned his attention to his food once more.
She tried to do the same but was only able to take one bite before she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat any more. Even though she was trying not to look in his direction, she couldn’t help noticing Walter was clearly avoiding looking at her.
Logically, she knew that was probably wise. Neither of them wanted to make a scene, after all. Still, it stung her. After all the time they had spent together, after the hours of conversation, to have him not even look at her … it really hurt.
Eventually, dessert was served, and then was finally taken away. Georgiana hardly touched it, taking barely a mouthful. Finally, the viscountess announced the dancing was soon to start in the ballroom.
Ambrose took her hand and placed it on his arm the moment they were both standing. The pace he set for them was purposeful, making them one of the first people in the ballroom.
“Thank you, again,” she told him, appreciative of not having had to walk past the many other guests to get there.
“I am here to take care of you, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. I also remember that, as my escort this evening, the first dance belongs to you if you want it.”
“Are you certain you feel up to it?” he hesitated.
Georgiana considered it for a moment. “If we are dancing, I don’t have to talk to anyone.”
“Very well,” Ambrose said as he led her into position for the first dance. Fortunately, it was a dance she knew well, so she was able to perform the steps almost without a thought, though a few small mistakes told her she was out of practice.
Near the end of the dance, while watching her footing, she caught a glimpse of the hemline of her dress. “Oh, dear.”
“What is it?” Ambrose asked, trying to discern what was wrong and where she was looking.
“My hemline. They must have been too busy at the modiste’s to finish it properly. It has come slightly undone.”
Ambrose looked around as the dance ended. “Let us go over to the chairs, so you can sit and look at it better.”
“That would be perfect,” she said appreciatively, and he instantly led her in that direction.
“Here, this looks like a good spot. It is off to the side, so hopefully no one will notice you looking. I would volunteer to help with your hem, but…”
“Thank you. Please don’t try to help with my hemline! If you recall, that has not ended well before.”
“That was once, and it was not your hemline. How many times do I have to apologize for tearing your dress further? Now, would you like me to get us some refreshments?”
“Yes, that would be nice, thank you,” Georgiana replied without looking up. She deliberately hadn’t answered his other question, as the incident with the torn dress was, in fact, something she planned to remind him of forever.
She frowned as she examined her hem. She would have to go and fix it if she didn’t want to risk damaging it further by accidentally stepping on it.
Just as she remembered she had a needle and thread in her reticule for just such mishaps, she caught the familiar scent of sandalwood cologne. She looked up out of habit, a little surprised to see Walter