Page 17 of Wallflower Whispers
“Might I ask who said such a thing to you?”
Miss Simmons lifted her head and looked back at him.
“Lady Tabitha.”
Hugh’s eyebrows lifted.
“Lady Hastings’ daughter?”
“The very same.”
Hugh shook his head.
“Lady Hastings was one of the harshest creatures I spoke with of late. She is unbending, unflinching, and unyielding. It does not surprise me that her daughter is the same. If I were you, Miss Simmons, I would do your utmost to ignore the lady’s words. There is no kindness there.”
Miss Simmons laughed softly, though there was still a light sheen in her eyes.
“That is wise advice, Lord Blackmore. I shall do as you ask.”
“Very good.” His own smile grew. “And will you come to my ball? Will you promise me to attend? If you do, I can assure you that you will have more than one gentleman asking you to dance.”
Miss Simmons looked back at him for some seconds then, with a quick smile, nodded.
“Very well, Lord Blackmore. I shall make certain to attend.”
“Capital! And I shall make certain to dance with you,” he promised, finding his heart suddenly alive with anticipation and happiness over the thought of her joining him at the ball. “In truth, I am very glad indeed that you have chosen to come, Miss Simmons. These rumors might very well be difficult to bear, but it is important that we do our utmost to stand against them. We must not let them crush us, must not permit them to overwhelm us. If we do, then we will let the darkness catch us up in its arms and it will be very difficult indeed to free ourselves from it again.”
It took a few seconds for Miss Simmons to respond but, when she did, it was with a steady gaze, a quiet nod and only a hint of a smile on her lips. Hugh found himself reaching out, one hand going to hers and, as he took it, the shock which widened her eyes filtered through to his own heart also. What exactly was he doing?
Clearing his throat, Hugh bowed over Miss Simmons’ hand but did not release it once he had lifted his head. Instead, he held it in his own, ignoring the fact that they were standing in the middle of a London street and, instead, focusing on the pain in her eyes.
“I understand that you have a good deal more difficulty than I,” he said, quietly. “I speak of darkness and of standing againstit, I speak of difficulties and struggle, only to remind myself that you have already a greater battle to fight than I. To be pressed back into the shadows, to have thetonconsider you a wallflower must be a great trial. And,” he continued, eventually releasing her hand, “it must be all the more difficult, seeing that I can walk about society just as I please and without anything to hold me back.”
Again, she let out a quiet laugh, but this one was filled with a harshness that Hugh recognized to be pain. His heart swelled and he stepped closer, only for Lady Grant to come to join them.
“Forgive me for stepping away,” she said, as Hugh cleared his throat and moved back just a little, quietly wondering to himself what it was that he had been intending to do when it came to Miss Simmons.
Had he thought to grasp her hand again? To speak all the more fervently? Why did his arms ache, his heart clasp tight in pain? Was it because he had wanted to pull her close, to hold her in his arms in a vague attempt to soothe her pain?
A heat began to build in his chest as he inclined his head.
“But of course, Lady Grant. Miss Simmons and I have just been speaking about my upcoming ball.”
“Oh?”
Seeing the way Lady Grant’s gaze slid towards her daughter, the worry etched across her forehead, Hugh smiled quickly.
“Miss Simmons has agreed to attend, which I am delighted about. I will have the invitations sent out by the end of this week and will make certain that what I have promised, Miss Simmons, will be set in place also.” With a smile, he bowed and, upon lifting his head, saw the flicker that ran across Miss Simmons’ lips. It was not a smile of warmth, nor happiness, but one of uncertainty. Hugh’s heart turned over on itself, silently praying that she was not about to change her mind and refuse to attend his ball. For whatever reason – a reason that Hugh did not wishto consider at that moment – her presence at the ball was swiftly becoming very important to him.
“I shall take my leave now,” he murmured, bowing to Lady Grant. “It was very pleasant to speak with you both and, please, do look out for my invitation.”
“We shall.” Lady Grant spoke fervently and with a good deal of warmth in her tone as she smiled. “Thank you, Lord Blackmore.”
“Thank you.” Miss Simmons looked back into his eyes, and Hugh’s breath quickened a fraction, simply from the action of holding her gaze with his. “You have been very encouraging, Lord Blackmore.”
He put one hand to his heart, finding it difficult to step away from her.
“I will do what I can, Miss Simmons,” he promised. “These rumors will pass, and we shall both be free to take our place in society again, I can assure you.”
