“Do you know, I do not think I can. The instinct comes unbidden. I long to pair up people and see them happy. Don’t you?”
“I mind my own business,” Ash said, but absently. Helena’s soft bosom against his arm was distracting.
“How dull for you. People are interesting, are they not? Infinite variety—everyone has a story. In this room are so many tales, so many little dramas. I want to learn them all and set the players on the path to contentedness. I know I never can, but I enjoy speculating.”
“You are …” Ash trailed off, fumbling for words, he who could eloquently out-argue the most smooth-tongued of his fellow peers. “A unique woman, Mrs. Courtland.”
She turned startled brown eyes to him. “I will take that as a compliment, Your Grace.”
Ash wasn’t certain what he’d meant, except the truth. In all the players and stories she talked about filling this ballroom, Ash wagered none were as interesting as Helena herself.
The thought startled him so much he stopped in the middle of the dance, missing his steps.
Helena banged into him, a crush of soft woman. She shot him a surprised look then laughed and pulled him along. “Move with the music. There we are. No one noticed, I think.”
Ash found his balance again, shaken, aware of Helena studying him. “You look unwell,” she said as they came together. She said something else, but it was lost in the music as she parted from him.
She continued to chatter, but to Ash, the sound was a blur in the background. The dance mercifully came to an end, and Ash led Helena from the floor.
He planned to settle her in a chair and bring her refreshment, as a gentleman should, but Helena was invited immediately to dance once more. With her high color and the silver-blue gown floating like gossamer, it was no wonder gentlemen were lining up for her. Ash ought to be relieved, but he watched her go with reluctance and irritation.
He made himself escape the ballroom but headed for the terrace this time instead of seeking the card room. He needed air.
Ash walked out to frigid chill. Nights were growing colder, days shorter.
Scarcely feeling the weather, he rested his gloved hands on the stone balustrade and gazed at the garden, which twinkled with paper lanterns. No one walked there—the guests were sensibly in the warm house.
“Deep thoughts, Ash?” Guy Lovell emerged from the shadows, the lit end of his cheroot an orange smudge.
“Appalling ones.” Ash drew a breath to tell him of his astounding thoughts about Helena and the kiss they’d shared, then let it out again. There were things a man didn’t reveal, even to his closest friend. “Mrs. Courtland has brought eligible women for me to look over.”
“I saw that.” Guy chuckled. “Too many ladies fishing for husbands tonight. Hence, my retreat. Devoted bachelor, me.”
Ash folded his arms, tucking his balled hands under them. “She’s recruited my aunt and has moved in with my nearest neighbor. I can’t shake the woman and her schemes.”
“Give in,” Guy said with a shrug. “Marry one of them. Then Mrs. Courtland will go tamely home.”
“Somehow, I think she won’t,” Ash said. “Even if I’d do such a damn fool thing as you suggest. The children love her, for one thing.” He let out an exasperated breath. “Damnation, why does that woman get under my skin?”
“Like a burr one can’t shake?”
“I suppose.” Ash scowled at the garden, silent fountains marble-pale in the darkness. “If Mrs. Courtland is so keen on marriage, why hasn’t she married again herself?”
“Why should she?” Guy asked in a reasonable tone. “Her husband turned out to be a complete idiot, but his wise man of business made certain she was set for life.” He took a pull of the cheroot, the smooth smoke wafting over Ashford. “I know—
“No,” Ash said abruptly.
“Hmm?” Guy’s brows went up. “I was joking. But why not?”
“Because …” Ash rearranged his words and cleared his throat. “No need for her to drive you mad in the bargain.”
Guy took another pull of the cheroot and studied him as smoke trickled from his mouth. “Ah,” he said, then smiled. “I’ll put that idea to rest.”
“See that you do.”
Ash didn’t miss Guy’s grin as the man dropped his cheroot into a bowl left on the terrace for the purpose. “I believe I’ll stroll back in,” Guy said. “Time to lose my money at cards. Pity I’m such a bad player.”
Guy often lost when he first sat down to a game, it was true, but he skillfully won everything back by the end of the night. He enjoyed the challenge.
Left alone once more with his thoughts, Ash gazed at the dark garden long enough to grow restless. He abandoned thoughts of returning to the ballroom and strode down the steps to the gravel path below.
