was standing not far away and looking at her, although she well knew the scent belonged to him.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and he seemed to realize he was staring again. Slowly, he approached, then cleared his throat and said curtly, “I simply wanted to say, I hope that you are enjoying your new life, Mrs. Rowley.”
And then he was gone before she could even reply beyond a confused look. She opened her mouth after he was nearly out of sight, but then realized she had no idea what she would have said, even if he had remained.
The encounter sent her thoughts into a whirl, and she quite forgot Ambrose was coming back for her. She only knew people were looking at her and that her hem needed fixing.
How the last trivial matter could still be on her mind, she had no idea. Perhaps because it was but a simple problem to solve. In any event, Georgiana immediately left the ballroom, not caring where she went. The matter of repairing her hem came to the fore once again when she found a small, empty parlor.
Once inside, with the door shut behind her, she decided it was the ideal place for her task. Searching in her reticule, she finally found the needle and thread.
“Ah, there it is,” she said aloud to herself. Threading the needle with practiced ease, she began to sew her hem with a simple basting stitch which ought to last for the rest of the evening.
As she was finishing, Georgiana felt her thoughts drifting back to Walter. He called me Mrs. Rowley. But why? Was it because I arrived here with Ambrose? I wonder what could have given him the impression we are married?
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, as her drifting thoughts caused her to accidentally prick her finger. She was wearing white gloves, and, of course, she had pricked her finger hard enough to spot her glove with blood.
Georgiana glared at the offending spot, then heard Ambrose calling for her. With a sigh, she made a knot and put the needle and thread away before leaving the parlor.
Inwardly, part of her was glad the worst of the evening was over. After all, how much worse could the evening possibly get after coming face to face with Walter?
Chapter 6
After having said that one sentence to Georgiana, Walter found he couldn’t bear to be near her a second longer. He made his way through the crowded ballroom without purpose.
Though Miss Rutherford had given him the pleasure of the first dance with her, it would have been rude to the other guests, as well as highly inappropriate for her to have given him the second, as well. Therefore, she was currently enjoying her second dance of the evening courtesy of the other gentlemen.
Even if that were not been the case, Walter knew his mind could not have taken in anything Miss Rutherford might have said to him anyway.
Finally, he saw an open door leading outside. Quickly taking it, he found himself in a part of the Burford gardens. He went a short distance further, just far enough to be out of sight of the house.
Taking a deep breath, Walter ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the night sky. Despite his best efforts, the bright stars and cloudless night reminded him even more of Georgiana. One specific memory drew him back to their shared past…
“Shhh! You are going to get us caught!” Georgiana told him in a loud, amused whisper, as her feet touched the ground outside her window.
“Me, get us caught? You are the one who is going to get us caught if you don’t stop laughing.”
That had started up her laughter once again, despite her best efforts to contain it. “I … I can’t help it!” she told him, nearly gasping as a few stray tears went down her cheeks.
“Was quoting Shakespeare under your window really that amusing?” he asked half-insulted, as he led her away from the house. He couldn’t be truly insulted at anything which made her laugh so lightheartedly, even if it were at his expense.
“Not really, but it was the way in which you did so! Was wearing the wig and the hat really necessary?” Georgiana said, as soon as she managed to get her laughter under control.
“I thought it would add … authenticity to my performance,” he had replied, slowing their pace as they arrived at the rose garden. They admired the light of the moon on the roses and shared