Page 32 of A Question of Worth

He did not decide to lower his head. He was aware that he was doing it only after it had begun — a slow, involuntary inclination, his breath shortening, the world narrowing to the space directly in front of him. Her face tilted up slightly.Involuntarily, he thought. Then he thought again, because there was nothing involuntary about the way her gaze held his. The candlelight found the line of her jaw beneath the mask. He could feel the warmth between them before any contact was made — the heat of her skin through the thin evening air, the lavender scent of her that he had noticed before and would not now be able to forget. He was aware of her breathing, the slight change in its rhythm, a catch and then a steadying, before he was aware of anything else. The space between them was measured in inches. Then less.

She stepped back.

It was small — barely a step, more a shifting of weight onto her back foot — but it broke the moment cleanly, the way a single crack will shatter a pane of glass from edge to edge. Her fingers went to the rim of her mask, pressing it lightly against her cheek, and he recognised the gesture for what it was: composure being gathered, edges being smoothed. She did not look away from him. He straightened. A breath passed between them, the space refilling with the sounds of the ballroom — the murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses, the orchestra beginning its next piece.

Neither spoke immediately.

"I swear to you," he said at last, his voice barely above the music, "I will not let you down."

It had beena full hour since his conversation with Miss Fairleigh. Nathaniel had waited for his moment to speak, noting that some prominent figures of society had not yet come to join the ball — no doubt thinking that their tardiness, in some way, made their arrival all the more prominent. He had not returnedto Miss Fairleigh's side, despite the urge to do so. He had to have his mind and his thoughts clear, had to make certain that he knew every word he was about to speak.

And now, the moment was upon him.

Clearing his throat, he walked towards the center of the ballroom, which was now clear, ready for the next dance. With a look to the orchestra, he saw them set their bows to one side, allowing him the time and the space to speak to his guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen, might I command your attention for a moment?"

It did not take long for the crowd to quieten. Perhaps some thought that he was about to announce the unmasking, that he was going to tell them all that now was the moment they might see just who it was they were in company with — even if it was a little early in the evening for it. Nathaniel stood for a long moment, his arms outstretched as he slowly turned around, waiting for every murmured conversation to come to a close. He needed to have every single person present to be watching him.

The room settled, and Nathaniel drew in a long breath, steadying himself before he spoke.

"Forgive the interruption," he said, his voice ringing around the room, "and the disappointment that is sure to follow when I state that it is not yet time for the unmasking." Smiling at the light ripple of confusion that made its way around the guests, he put one hand to his heart. "There is another, weightier matter that requires your attention — and it is to do with the late Lady Warrington and her abundant gift to one Miss Fairleigh."

Another murmur, louder this time, as faces tilted together, their masks hiding their expressions though Nathaniel could guess what it was each person was thinking. There would be astonishment, confusion and, for some, glee that he was about to speak on such an explosive matter.

He lifted his chin and, with one hand, undid his mask. It was time for them all to see his expression, to see the fervency with which he spoke, the fire that burned in his chest when he thought of Miss Fairleigh.

"Many of you have determined that you know the reason behind Lady Warrington's consideration of Miss Fairleigh," he began, looking around the room. "I have heard all of the whispers, heard the gossip spread and the rumors that spread from one to another. Some," he continued, with a heaviness in his voice, "have come from within my own family. For that, I am ashamed and, as far as I have been able, have apologized for those remarks."

There were flashes in the eyes of some, though Nathaniel could not ascertain what emotion they projected. Shame? Anger? Upset that he would speak of them in such a way? He did not know, but nor did he care. They, as a whole, had to know, had tosee,the truth about Miss Fairleigh. It was only right.

"Without evidence, you have decided what sort of lady Miss Fairleigh must be. It could not be without reason that Lady Warrington offered her such a grand inheritance, you have all determined, and thus you have come up with your own explanations as to why Lady Warrington favored her so. Some of the stories I have heard have made my heart tear with the darkness within them; some have shocked me beyond measure — and they are not even about myself or my family." He paused, then dropped his voice lower. "I cannot imagine what they have done to Miss Fairleigh and to her aunt, Lady Newark."

Another few mutterings began to move about the room, like wind rustling through dry leaves. Nathaniel said nothing, allowing it to fade before he looked around the room again, seeing — to his relief — that one or two faces were no longer looking directly at him. Perhaps his attempts to make them reconsider were beginning to work.

"I can assure you all that your stories are nothing more than that — pure fiction." He lifted his chin. "My own brother was mistaken in all that he said."

A dull exclamation caught Nathaniel's attention, and he turned his head, seeing a gentleman shrug, leaning towards another fellow who said something in his ear. No doubt that gentleman was James himself — but Nathaniel did not have the time to speak to him directly. Not yet, at least.

"As you are all aware, Lady Warrington was my great-aunt," he stated, raising his voice so that every person in the room was looking towards him again. "I know the reason she gave Miss Fairleigh such a great inheritance. I know thetruth."

This time, there were no murmurings which followed his remark. There were no gasps of astonishment, no whispers between one and another. Instead, there was a fixed silence, telling him that he now commanded the room, that every eye was fixed on him, every ear eager to hear what he had to say. Nathaniel smiled briefly, letting the silence stretch. He could not see Miss Fairleigh herself at this moment, could not work out which of the many faces was hers, but he knew that she would be listening, that she too might feel the very same anticipation as others.

"All who whispered rumors about Miss Fairleigh, all of you who spoke gossip, all who told stories of your own concoctions, you were all completely and utterly wrong not only in what you said but also in your desire to spread such gossip to others," he said, moving around slowly, hearing a few snatches of breath. "Lady Warrington knew what society could do to a reputation. She herself had endured scandal and shame within her own family — but she was saved from the severity of it by her marriage to Lord Warrington." He tilted his head. "Just as she has tried, even in her passing, to save Miss Fairleigh from the very same difficulty."

A lady near him lowered her head, her shoulders rounding. Nathaniel looked at her for a moment, silently praying that there would be many others in thetonnow feeling the same way.

"My great-aunt acted with deliberate intention," he said, his voice carrying across the room. "She understood something we so often refuse to acknowledge — that the consequences of our poor decisions do not fall upon us alone. They fall upon those connected to us, and very often upon those who hold less power and a quieter voice than we command."

A few gentlemen near him shuffled their feet, looking down at the floor.

He lifted both hands. "Is that not how it has been for Miss Fairleigh? She has done nothing worthy of censure, and yet, society has turned on her. I believe that my great-aunt did her utmost to protect Miss Fairleigh from the very thing that has now taken place, albeit in a different manner." Hoping all he had said would be clear and easily understandable, he paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "When she was alive, Lady Warrington saw Miss Fairleigh in the very same circumstances as she had once been in. I shall not detail them here, however, but needless to say, Lady Warrington wanted to protect Miss Fairleigh in the same way as she had been protected. She wanted to ensure that Miss Fairleigh was given a future filled with light and happiness and opportunity, kept safe from the scandal that others might bring. That is the reason for the financial gift she set aside for Miss Fairleigh. It was a shield, meant to protect her — and society, rather than recognizing it, have used that shield to injure Miss Fairleigh all the more."

His heart hammered in his chest as a few more heads began to bow low, his harsh words biting down on those present.

"We consider ourselves virtuous and honorable, do we not? But honor is not proven in our own view of ourselves. It is proven in how we protect those within our sphere."

A small movement at the side of the room drew his attention. A young lady had moved forward and, with one hand, was reaching around to the back of her head as if to remove her mask.