“Goodnight, Bernadette,” he murmured, voice husky.
She stared up at him. “Goodnight, Nicholas.”
He helped her up into the coach. It rolled into the street a few seconds later, the evening sky starry overhead. He watched as it disappeared into the street, heart thudding with the feeling of her soft, scented hand and the intensity of her smile.
“What a lovely girl,” Mama murmured as Nicholas went back indoors.
“She is,” he said softly. She truly was lovely, and he had enjoyed each second and couldn’t wait to see her again soon atGrandmother’s evening party.
Chapter 18
Nicholas stood on the steps at Lockwood House. The street was surprisingly empty, the usual bustle of people that would have filled it already ensconced in clubs or theaters. The boys employed to hold a light to guide the coaches waited, the sky a soft purple with early evening behind the bright flames of their pitch-torches. Nicholas drew in a deep breath. The cravat around his neck, lace-edged and modish, seemed about to strangle him. He turned, hearing footsteps in the entrance-foyer behind him.
“Nicholas! Come in! The guests won’t be here for an hour yet.” Grandmother’s voice was friendly and commanding at once, as only she could manage.
“Yes, Grandmother,” Nicholas answered. He turned in the doorway, finding Grandmother behind him. She, like himself, was already dressed for the evening. A gown of a deep charcoal, almost black, covered her body, her throat sparkling with a discreet silver necklace. She always wore mourning colors, grays or navy blue or purple; a reminder of Father’s passing. Nicholas swallowed hard. His grandmother smiled.
“The ballroom is almost ready!” she murmured. “The musicians have just arrived. Come in, Nicholas,” she repeated insistently. “We’ll have plenty of time standing here later to greetthe guests.”
“Yes, Grandmother,” he repeated softly, and followed her inside.
The ballroom, as she had mentioned, was ready. A hundred candles cast bright light on the dance floor below, their flames brightened by the crystals that decorated the chandeliers. The ceiling soared high overhead, the walls decorated with molded plaster, the floor gleaming and the space echoing as the staff hurried about, bringing food to the tables or dusting surfaces. Everything was impeccably arranged.
“The guest-list is not too extensive,” Grandmother told him lightly. “Fifty seems to be the right amount. We simplycouldn’tleave anyone off the list.”
“I’m sure it will be a good number, Grandmother,” Nicholas said absently. Inside, he was praying inwardly to be able to manage the evening. Attending a ball with Grandmother and Grandfather constantly hovering would be difficult. Attending the same ball with half theTonin attendance would be horrible. He felt uneasy, as though his shirt was too tight, his cravat stifling. He fidgeted with it uneasily, watching his grandmother walk through the ballroom inspecting the tables.
“Nicholas! Grand, grand.” Lord Lockwood, respectable in a black tailcoat and black trousers, came to join Nicholas. Nicholas swallowed hard, feeling nervous. “A fine evening, eh? Your grandmother has worked tirelessly organizing it.”
“I imagine,” Nicholas murmured. “I appreciate it.” His words were hollow; spoken because he knew they were expected,not because he felt sincere about them. He looked around. Grandmother had, clearly, put a great deal of time and effort into organizing the evening, though it was hard to appreciate something that wasn’t really what he wanted.
“Fine! Fine,” Grandfather declared. He stood with Nicholas for a minute or two and then wandered away.
Nicholas breathed deeply. In a few minutes, Bernadette would arrive.
Bernadette,he thought with a smile, savoring the memory of what it was like to say her name. The memory of her blushing smile filled him with warmth and made him smile. It was a small refuge, like a lovely garden to which his mind could travel, seeking peace.
“The guests are arriving,” Grandfather commented, wandering up as the butler strode in. It would be the butler’s job to announce the guests as they arrived. Nicholas coughed stiffly, his cravat choking him. He dreaded the initial half an hour or so, when the guests would arrive and he’d be expected to greet them at the door.
At least I will not be doing it by myself, he thought with a small, tense smile. Bernadette would be joining him as soon as she arrived.
Where is she? he thought nervously.
“A fine evening,” Grandfather observed to nobody in particular, wandering up to the door to join Nicholas. Grandmother came to stand beside him.
At any minute, he reminded himself, Bernadette would arrive to stand with him. They would welcome the guests together. He reached up to his cravat again, loosening it. Where was she? He gazed around nervously.
“Lord Blackburne?”
He turned sharply to the right at the sound of someone behind him.
Bernadette stood there and he found he could look nowhere else.
Her soft brown hair was styled in a chignon, the front curled about her face. She wore sparkly earrings and a silver necklace, and he drew in a breath at the dark blue gown, which fitted her perfectly. It was tight at the bodice with its low square neckline and falling loosely from the high waistband. The deep, intense blue brought out the hazel of her eyes and highlighted the soft golden-brown tone of her hair. Her skin was like porcelain, her lips red and cheeks blushing.
She smiled shyly, her cheeks blushing, and he felt his throat tighten with admiration.
“Good evening, Bernadette.” He bowed.
