one, but it was not. It did not feel the same, and whenever Leonora looked upon it, she felt reminded of that missing part of her.
“Do you not wish to dance?” her eldest sister Juliet asked, her moss-green eyes looking almost longingly at the dance floor.
In truth, the mere thought of it made Leonora feel sick to the stomach. “I’d rather not,” she told her sister, trying to appear unaffected. “You know me. I do enjoy being here, away from the hustle bustle, able to observe everything.” She glanced at their snoozing grandmother. “Why don’t you go ahead, Jules? I’ll keep an eye on Grandma Edie.”
Juliet sighed, but then shook her head. “Oh, I’d rather not leave—”
“Lady Leonora, how wonderful to see you here tonight!” Lord Gillingham exclaimed as he appeared as though out of thin air. “Would you grant me this dance?”
Leonora all but stumbled a step or two backward, stunned by his sudden appearance in front of her. Her gaze widened and her eyes snapped down to his proffered hand. Again, panic washed over her, and she felt her limbs freeze. It truly was a cold that spread through her. Something chilling and immobilizing. A part of her itched to note down her own reaction, like the symptoms of a sickness. She simply ought to decline his request, but she could not. Why on earth could she not simply say no?
Her gaze strayed to her sister; unfortunately, Juliet did not understand Leonora’s silent plea. How could she? After all, she had no knowledge of what had transpired at the masquerade. Her sister did not even know that Leonora had attended it. If only Louisa were here! If only—!
“Here, Lady Leonora. Drink this!”
Again, Leonora blinked, and when her eyes focused, she found Lord Pemberton standing in front of her, holding out a glass of lemonade to her. In that moment, she could have wept with joy. He was here…again. He stood closer now than he ever had before, and yet, she could tell from the way he moved that he was doing his utmost not to step too close.
A measure of confusion came to Lord Gillingham’s face as he looked from her to Lord Pemberton, his brows drawing down in disapproval. Before he could utter a single word though, Lord Pemberton went on. “I apologize for my clumsiness. I hope your foot is feeling better.” He gently placed the glass of lemonade in her hand because for the life of her Leonora could not have moved on her own. “Perhaps you should sit and not dance again for the rest of the evening.” He looked up and met Juliet’s gaze. “I do apologize for stepping on your sister’s toes. Please, ensure that she does not dance again until she feels perfectly well.”
“Of course.” Honest concern rested in Juliet’s voice as she moved to pull up another chair next to Grandma Edie’s, then urged Leonora to sit, inquiring if there was anything she needed.
A part of Leonora felt awful for lying to her sister in such a way, and yet, she could not imagine what else to say. Fortunately, Lord Gillingham took his leave after expressing his regrets over her injury as well as offering his well-wishes. Lord Pemberton, too, took his leave. Nevertheless, Leonora could almost feel his eyes upon her throughout the rest of the evening. He was like a guardian angel, and she knew she had to find some way to keep him close.
Even after the house party ended.
Especially after the house party ended.
Chapter Six
Through the Hedge
London, early January 1803 (or variation thereof)
Leonora had never quite believed in fate or destiny or whatever people wanted to call it. Neither was she certain she believed in God for her rational mind constantly argued against such a theory. What Leonora did believe in was cause and consequence. She believed in probability, something that could be calculated. Calculations helped her to form reasonable assumptions and allowed her to make predictions.
When they had left Lord Archibald’s estate after the house party had come to an end, it had only been reasonable to assume that she would not see Lord Pemberton again. After all, their paths had not crossed thus far, and from what she had gathered, he and Phineas had never been the closest of friends. Years had passed since they had last spoken to one another. Therefore, it had only been reasonable to assume that his calming presence would be lost to her the moment they departed Windmere Park.
The world,