Page 135 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘I’m not sure I agree with you.’ His eyes were flickering and darting about the room as if to check the moment had indeed gone unnoticed.

‘Why does that not surprise me?’ She smiled up at him, and after a beat he returned it, agitation easing, at last.

‘Come, they are making up the next set,’ he said, offering her his arm. ‘And even you will not convince me to dance thrice in a row.’

She acquiesced without argument. ‘Shall we go somewhere? Away from all this?’

They had to speak again, just as honestly as they had last night – only this time, perhaps there might be a very different outcome. For so much had changed, had it not? Last night, he had told her there was no chance of his ever being able to love her, but he had reached for her, just now, hadn’t he? Had looked at her, just now, as if his sentiments had undergone the very same change hers had. And even if he seemed more alarmed than pleased by it, surely, they had both felt it, this time?

Ashford nodded wordless agreement, but his smile had faded again. Some of Lydia’s certainty lapsed with it, but she steeled herself. She could not spend another moment in confusion. She had to be brave, had to ask him, had to know, even if the answer was not the one she wished.

They made their way across the dance floor, in silence, passing the gentleman in the emerald domino again. He took a step into their path, smiling.

Lydia felt Ashford angle as though to move past and had to bite back a smile – when had his haughtiness become endearing?

‘Good evening, sir, I am afraid we are already bound for—’

‘What’s this?’ the gentleman said jocularly. ‘No time for me, Ashford?’

Ashford stopped abruptly in his tracks.

‘Father?!’ Ashford said, blank with shock. Lydia took in a sharp breath. In all the excitement she had quite forgotten the imminent arrival of the duke.

His Grace gave a delighted chuckle, unravelling the strings of his mask to reveal a beaming face that much resembled Ashford’s.

‘But – but – when did you arrive?’ Ashford said. ‘I did not hear you announced? Phoebe did not say … ’

‘It’s a masquerade, my boy,’ the duke reminded him. ‘If one was announced, then what, pray, would be the point?’ He reached out to clasp Ashford’s shoulder. ‘Are you not pleased to see me?’

With visible effort, Ashford recovered some – but far from all – of his composure. ‘Yes, of course, I am.’

The duke turned his beam onto Lydia. ‘Now, I need not ask who you are. Miss Hanworth, I presume?’

‘Your Grace. I am – I am so pleased to meet you.’ Lydia dipped into a hasty curtsey – was it deep enough? Too deep? Why had she not prepared for this?

She stole a glance at Ashford. Was that the correct thing to say? Oh, how she wished they had had a chance to speak before this moment.

‘No, no, it is I who am delighted!’ the duke said. ‘To meet the woman who has turned Ashford’s head at last.’

‘Oh how – how wonderful.’ Again, she looked to Ashford for guidance, but he did not speak and his face was quite blank.

‘I heartily approve this match,’ the duke said, clapping Ashford again upon the shoulder. ‘You have chosen very well.’

Lydia’s eyes widened. She had not known exactly what she had been expecting, in Ashford’s father, but such open amicability was not quite it.

‘I am … so pleased you think so,’ Ashford said, though no pleasure was evident in his expression. ‘Is Lady Phoebe aware of your arrival?’

‘I have been looking for her,’ the duke said, shaking his head. ‘It took me an age to spot even you – for a while, it was as if you had all disappeared entirely. Ah, she must be the one in red – Phoebe!’

He waved Lady Phoebe down from across the room, and she hastened over, face wreathed in smiles.

‘Uncle!’ she said. ‘How dare you sneak in so! You are incorrigible.’

He laughed, not at all offended, and Lydia could not help but smile with him. His warmth was rather irresistible – to all but Ashford, apparently, for the open joy he had displayed on the dance floor had quite vanished from his face, which was now as even and opaque as a frozen lake. Lydia’s brow wrinkled.

The duke did not appear to have noticed, patting his niece’s arm. ‘What a party, my love! You have outdone yourself.’

‘I am so thrilled you are here – there are so many people I wish you to meet.’