Page 24 of Within the Hollow Heart

He straightened, humor dancing at the edge of his lips once more. “At a ball? The fates only know. Dreadfully boring things. Everyone says so.” When she did not answer, he leaned closer. Nothing was worse than being pressured into something one did not enjoy or had no confidence in before a room full of judgmental peers. But he could not stand tonotask her. “How do you feel about dancing, my lady?”

The look she gave him was one of surprise, and she seemed to consider, then to decide she’d nothing else to occupy her wait, before offering her hand. “I suppose that would do well enough.”

“Such a flatterer, you. Swooning at my every attention. I’m not certain how much more of this my dignity can take.”

“I suspect your pride can bear it,” she said as he led her to the dance floor.

He pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” The orchestra was without fault, renowned even kingdoms away, and their symphony swelled just as Nickolas turned to face her. He bowed. She dipped into a curtsy, and they fell into step with the teeming crowd around them.

Jules was a better dancer than he was. Far superior, despite all his training. Saints, she moved like a… well, like nothing he’d ever seen. Her chin was up, eyes forward, flawless form revealing not a hint of concern for the courtiers who might be watching. They would certainly be watching, he remembered, so he forced his gaze away from his partner to perform the dance. Rue throbbed sharp inside his chest, but he ignored it. Jules was betrothed, to someone truly awful from whom she had to escape. He did not know how to help her, and each step of the dance that turned him to face her, each time the light caught on the chain about her slender neck, felt like another plunge of the knife.

The music ended, and they danced again, and because the rules of propriety slackened at a masquerade, Nickolas led them into a third. When it was over, he took her hand, bowing so low before her that he might have kissed it. But he only returned to standing, stealing no more than the slide of his thumb across the back of her hand before letting go.

“What now?” he asked, feeling slightly breathless. It must have been deuced warm in the ballroom. “The refreshment table? Rumor has it there’s to be a lavish display of sugared fruit this year and an endless supply of cakes.”

When she merely replied, “If you’d like,” he led her to the side of the room.

“Perhaps you’ll sneak some back for Frederick. Though he likely prefers seeds and grain.”

“Bread,” she said. When Nickolas glanced at her, she repeated, “I give him bread.”

Nickolas stared down at her, her eyes serious beneath the fine mask, her lashes long and dark. He felt himself shift closer, and when Jules’s mouth parted, his ears pricked in anticipation of whatever she meant to say.

Then the flock of ladies browsing the dessert table descended and he straightened, increasing the distance between him and Jules. It was poor timing, to say the least.

The ladies fawned and fluttered while Nickolas did his best to politely disengage. He made no formal introduction because Jules was to remain unknown, but when a lady who was the cousin to the stablemaster pressed, “You must, if nothing else, tell us how you met,” Jules replied for him, the hint of a smile flirting with the edge of her lips.

“Lord Brigham fell into my courtyard.” She glanced up at him adoringly. “Like a little baby bird shoved from its nest too soon.”

The hem of rebuke in his throat was drowned out by tittering ladies. Annoyed, Nickolas slid an arm possessively around Jules, his gaze on their audience. “If you’ll allow me to make my excuses, ladies, I have made promises of cake that I intend to keep.”

Once the others were gone and Jules was reaching for a small plate that held a pair of delicate treats, Nickolas leaned in, voice low in the hope of regaining their moment before the interruption. “My apologies. Some days, society simply cannot get enough of my conversation.”

She made a snort of incredulity. “I’m surprised you allow yourself such a credit. They seemed not at all concerned with a word that fell from your mouth. Indeed, Lord Brigham, I fear they were trifling with you. If they’d not been busy perusing you in your fine suit, in the way they perused the dessert table, you wouldn’t get half so far or even a quarter with most courtiers.”

A startled laugh came out of him. “So youdobelieve me handsome.”

She bit into a cookie.

“Or delicious, like the desserts,” he said. “I’ll admit, I suspected as much from the start. ‘That Jules,’ I said, ‘she cannot take her eyes from me.’ Like a lodestone, I am. It’s a burden, truly, to hold this sort of power over a lady. I worry myself about it day and night.”

She dropped her half-eaten ginger cookie to the plate meaningfully.

He pressed his lips together in surrender then offered her a glass of punch.

The moment was gone, but they made a tour of the room, taking in the fine decorations and elegant dress. Nickolas told Jules of some of the oldest Westrende traditions and ushered her to view a particularly stunning landscape, then they made their way to a pair of doors that led out into a courtyard. The space was cool and moonlit, a few flickering candelabra placed around the entrance to the ballroom. The scene reminded him of the night he’d met her. “A baby bird,” he muttered as he recalled what she’d said about him falling into her life.

Her expression was solemn with not a twitch of the lip when she looked up at him. “Indeed. Helpless and lost. Poor creature.”

Trapped in a cage, he thought, unable to climb the walls Carvell and his mother had built around him. The expectation. The debt. He’d failed to get free, and yet, even now, it was as if Jules was saving him from facing those gallows. He let out a breath, and if it fell across the bare skin above her neckline, he could not be blamed for it. “How fortunate for me that you have a soft spot for pitiable creatures.” Music rose from inside the hall, and he had the intense desire to take her into his arms once more. “Dance with me, my lady. Before our time is over.”

She took a step closer, dark eyes shining beneath her mask. He suspected she’d heard the lament in his tone, but instead of addressing it, she asked, “And how have you found this evening, my lord?”

He gave Jules a self-deprecating smile as she lifted a hand to take his. They spun gently over the flat stones that bordered the courtyard. Beyond them, masked couples paraded past, gracing the pair with fond smiles and whispering quietly of things best said in moonlit gardens. “Dreadfully dull,” Nickolas murmured as Jules twirled in a step that brought her back to him. “Never had such a tedious night of dancing and discussion in my life. And the company…” He shook his head. “This will be the memory I draw forth when I need to appear as if I’m taking an assembly presentation seriously.”

Jules laughed, the sound light and musical and carefree.

His heart danced. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to make her laugh and to—

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