He looked flustered, uncertain. “I don’t, Evangeline, I’m merely busy.”
We parted at the end of the line and stood across from each other. What a liar. And here I thought he always told the truth. “I thought you, at least, would be honest with me.”
That heat in his neck, swept up into his face. He wouldn’t look at me, merely pressed his lips into a thin line and stared at the orchestra. Was it guilt that made him avoid eye contact? Was it something more?
Around us, happy couples danced. People who had lived in this area since the beginning of time. They all knew each other well. They also liked to gossip, and were watching me closely. I pasted a smile upon my face, pretending as if I fit in. Pretended as if I’d been born to do this. Jules and Lilly had taught me to dance months ago. And so I went through the motions, the ballroom a hazy blur of candlelight and laughing faces. I was so damn tired of pretending to be happy.
Oliver and I did not speak again. Even as the dance ended and he escorted me back to Jules and Lillian, we didn’t talk. He bowed, and left me. I watched him weave his way through the crowds, not bothering to greet anyone. Would I ever understand him?
“It’s not you, my dear,” Jules said softly. “I promise.”
I nodded, but the sting of tears still clouded my vision.
Lillian slid her arm through mine. “Shall we get some air?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “Please.”
Jules reached out and gently squeezed my hand as Lilly led me toward the outskirts of the ballroom. They were so eager for me to be accepted by society, but I realized in that moment, I only wanted to be accepted by them. All of them. My family. I didn’t really care what society thought about me. But would my family accept the real me? Not the child they remembered?
The doors called, despite the bitter temperature outside. Somehow, I managed to keep a smile upon my lips, even nod to those we strolled by on our way to the patio. Lillian cracked a door, the crisp air of winter sweeping inside and making a nearby candle flutter.
“Champagne,” Lillian said to a passing servant. “No, gin.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The maid rushed off to do as was bid. Lillian and I slipped out onto the stone patio. The door shut, muffling the sound of music and laughter, and I finally felt like I could breathe with some normalcy again.
The night sky was clear. The stars were bright, so very brilliant and plentiful. I would have rather been in my bedchamber with my telescope, than dancing in this ballroom. A fine blanket of snow glowed silver under the moonlight. It was stunning, magical. Here, anyway. In the city snow meant bitterly cold nights when you couldn’t get warm. It meant huddling around fires. Hoping your boots held out another year and didn’t get a hole.
Lilly rested her hand on my back. “There now. Take in a deep breath.”
I sucked in the crisp air. The cold burned my lungs, but made me better. Grounded. I could not deny that there was something about the countryside that made one seem alive. Something clean and fresh that London, with her coal smoke and crowded lanes, could not offer.
“It can be too much even for those who have lived here their entire lives.” She gently rubbed my back in a motherly fashion. She wore a beautiful green dress that looked stunning against her red hair. “My family was not always wealthy, you know.”
I closed my eyes, letting her calm voice wash over me. In the background, the music still played. People laughed and conversed. Their joy should have been contagious. But there was a wall, thin, yes, but there all the same, that prevented me from truly accepting my new lot in life. From truly belonging.
“I was young when my father started his company. At first, it was thrilling to suddenly have so much money. But nothing is perfect. No matter how much money, how many titles, you still have problems.”
I opened my eyes. “My problem is that I no longer know where I fit in.”
She smiled kindly. “I understand. I do. I’m American, the titled gentry here do not take kindly to that. I’ve been mocked more times than I can count. Most assume William married me only for my fortune. Others think I’m a