Page 7 of Yours Always
Chapter 5
April 1854
Edenfield - London, England
The ballroom at Edenfieldshimmered beneath the glow of a hundred candles. Light fractured through crystal chandeliers, washing the high ceilings and polished floors in warm, dappled gold. The sweet notes of a waltz drifted through the hum of conversation and clinking glass. Matthew stood near the far end of the room, just beyond the swell of dancers, where the open terrace doors let in the cool spring breeze.
Grace lingered beside him, her fan half-open in one hand, a knowing tilt to her head as she surveyed the crowd. Benjamin was to her right, wine glass in hand, his expression a mix of mischief and affectionate boredom as he watched the endless parade of introductions. And then she entered.Sarah Elizabeth Weston.The breath caught in Matthew’s throat before he realized he had stopped breathing.
The room didn’t fall silent, but it felt as though it had. The edges blurred, sound dulled, and all that remained in focus was her. She stepped into the ballroom on her mother’s arm, her dress a soft ivory embroidered with twists of cream and gold with delicate rosebuds embroidered along the hem and bodice. The glint of pearl buttons trailed down the back like a constellation.
Her hair, usually sun kissed and wild, was swept up in an elegant twist with soft golden curls falling like a whisper at her neck, and her cheeks were flushed just enough to betray the nerves she had so carefully tucked beneath a layer of poise. She was completely perfect, and completely grown.
Her eyes searched the room with a familiar flicker of unease, her awe too practiced to be pure. She had schooled her expression into something lovely and composed, but Matthew could still see the hint of overwhelm in the set of her shoulders, and the way her fingers curled inward just slightly as she walked. “She’s beautiful,” Grace said beside him, her voice quiet.
“She always has been,” Matthew replied without thinking. Benjamin turned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m starting to think you might not survive this Season.”
Matthew didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Victoria was already drawing her deeper into the crowd like a prized gemstone, presenting her to every noble name worth knowing. Matthew watched as Sarah smiled and curtsied, the picture of every mother’s dream. He saw her eyes gently scanning the room, but she hadn’t seen him. He swallowed hard, lifting his glass but not drinking.
“Careful, Matty,” Benjamin teased. “You’re looking at her like she belongs to you.” Matthew didn’t take his eyes off her. “She doesn’t,” he said softly. How many times had he said those words—to himself, to her family, to passing strangers who had mistaken their friendship for affection. But for the first time, thewords felt real. She had crossed some invisible threshold that he couldn’t follow. She belonged to the world now, and he would have to find a way to survive it
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Sarah slipped into the rose garden, relieved to find it empty. It was early enough that no one else had yet thought to seek escape. Behind her, the ballroom still glittered; candles flickering in their crystal cages, laughter echoing through the marble halls. It had all been so beautiful. Too beautiful.
A hundred golden lights, the rustle of silk, and the scent of perfume clinging to the air had pressed in around her like a velvet noose. But outside, the hush of the garden, that simple splendor clung to Sarah’s skin like a second corset.
She slipped down the stone steps and into the shadowed paths, the air thick with the scent of roses and the faint, lingering strain of a waltz that refused to let her go. The garden was dim and still, the lantern light only just reaching the edges of the trellises. But even here, she could feel the echo of the ballroom pressing in.
The candlelight that had looked so magical an hour ago now felt harsh behind her eyes. The delicate slippers pinched. The corset cinched tighter with every breath. Her gown, so carefully chosen and perfectly admired, suddenly itched at the seams. Every ruffle, every pearl button, was a reminder of how little room there was to simply be.
She stepped off the path onto the grass, pressing her hands to her ribs, trying to breathe past the expectations. It wasn’t just the dress. It was the weight of a thousand unspoken rules. The endless parade of names and titles. The polished answers and polite laughter. Her mother’s guiding hand on her back, steering her like a showpiece. And all the while, the music played relentlessly, beautiful, and loud. She was suffocating,and everyone was too busy sampling fruit tarts and sipping champagne to notice.
“There you are,” came a voice behind her, instantly melting every nerve. “I’ve been looking for you all evening.” Sarah turned, her heart lifting before her eyes even found him.Matthew.He smiled as he crossed the terrace in long strides. “Every time I found you, someone else had already claimed your attention.” The cut of his coat highlighted the strength in his frame, and the colors of his waistcoat deepened the copper tones of his hair. Moonlight sparked in his eyes as he approached.
When she met his gaze, the humor in his expression softened, mixing with something that looked dangerously like adoration. “It’s no wonder you were the center of so much attention,” he said, the grin tugging at his mouth. “You look absolutely beautiful, Lizzy.” He stopped just short of her and offered an exaggerated bow. “My apologies,Miss Weston.”
Sarah laughed, finally feeling like she could breathe for the first time that evening. “That sounds so formal, and hardly appropriate for old friends.”
“Perhaps. But you’re in Society now.” He arched a brow. “Propriety demands it.” He joined her on the stone bench, his smile softening into something gentler. Sarah once again found it hard to breathe. This time it wasn’t from the nerves of the evening. When Matthew sat beside her, it wasn’t the old, easy comfort of friendship that had settled between them. It was something else entirely. Something that made her pulse flutter and her thoughts lose their footing.
“To be honest,” he said, voice lowering just above a whisper, “I had a wager with Benjamin that you would make your escape before the second waltz.”
“I wanted to,” Sarah admitted. “But Mother had me cornered between introductions and promised dances.”
Matthew chuckled, loosening the tension in her chest. “So,” he asked, tilting his head, “is it everything you dreamed it would be?”
“It’s everything I dreaded.”
To anyone else the honesty would have been shocking, but not Matthew. He didn’t try to correct her, brush the comment off or offer empty comfort. He simply leaned against the garden wall, watching the glow from the ballroom windows flicker across the path.
“Do you remember…” he asked after a moment, “...when I taught you this dance?” Sarah’s lips twitched with a smile. “Of course. It was the day after Christmas. Mary had just gotten a new music book.” Her voice faltered as her sister’s name slipped out, but Matthew didn’t seem to notice. “Benjamin was teasing her mercilessly,” he said with a chuckle.
“And you were ever trying to be the peacemaker.” Sarah glanced sideways at him. “You pulled me off my chair, sent my embroidery flying, and decided that I needed to learn a proper waltz, right then and there. Never mind the fact that Mary’s playing made it sound like a funeral march.” Matthew laughed outright. “It really was dreadful. I could hardly keep time.”
“You were a terrible teacher,” she teased, the smile finding her more easily now. “And you,” he said with mock solemnity, “were an even worse student.” Their laughter faded into quiet, the kind that wrapped around them like a familiar blanket. But just beneath it, something fragile stirred.Mary. Always Mary. Even the sweetest memories were tangled in her sister’s shadow.
Sarah’s smile dimmed, and her posture shifted. Matthew’s expression softened, and he reached out and gently placed his hand over hers where it rested in her lap. “She really was awful at the pianoforte,” he said lightly.
