Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [125]
He laughed.
“So I shall not know whether I have impressed you or not?”
“I most profoundly hope not.”
And so they continued, on the very outermost surface speaking of nothing that mattered, on the second surface, just a trifle below, flirting mildly as people do at parties when they find each other agreeable. And underneath they cared more and more deeply as all the unspoken things were understood between glances, through inflections of the voice and expressions of the face changing from laughter to self-awareness, wry knowledge of their own frailty, tenderness for the other, excitement because it was new and piquant, and fear because the hurt could cut so deeply.
When they were joined by Odelia Morden, her face pale, her glass clutched in clammy hands, Charlotte felt a stab of pity which took her by surprise. She had not liked Odelia, thinking her both cold and complacent. Now she watched her face and saw in it the sudden awareness of defeat, not necessarily of fact—Fitz was betrothed to her and to break the engagement would be an act of folly in the face of his ambitions—but she recognized in him now a laughter and a magic she had never seen for herself, and the pain of it cut very sharp. For the moment she was too stunned to fight.
Once her eyes met Fanny’s and the color drained from Fanny’s face as she understood. They looked at each other and the rest of the busy, chattering crowd faded from their awareness. Even Fitz himself seemed shadowy, his reality pushed to the edge of vision. They both understood precisely what the issue was. For the first time in his life Fitz was held by the same sort of enchantment that he had exercised over so many others, the charm that wakens all sorts of dreams, the feeling of warmth and the possibility of never being alone, of being understood in all that was best in oneself. It was too sweet ever to let go of entirely, no matter what the reality became.
Odelia saw something she had not realized before, and at the moment she understood it, she also knew it was beyond her reach.
Fanny realized she was in love with another woman’s betrothed as she could probably not love anyone else. And he was socially above her, and his ambition made their union impossible. If he were to jilt Odelia he would not be forgiven.
And Fitz knew it also, but he did not accept it. Only the guilt hurt as he perceived at least in part what he was doing to Odelia, although he had not sought to feel as he did, nor was there anything he could do to govern it.
They were still all four standing motionless. Charlotte began talking to cover the confusion and the pain, not because she imagined for an instant that anyone was listening to her or cared in the slightest what she said. Then Regina Carswell stepped back and almost bumped into them, turning to apologize.
Over her shoulder Fanny’s startled gaze met that of Addison Carswell.
“I’m so sorry,” Regina said hastily, regaining her balance. “Oh—Miss Hilliard, is it not? How pleasant to see you again.”
Fanny gulped, all the color and excitement blanching out of her face.
“G-good evening, Mrs. Carswell.” She swallowed and coughed as the air caught in her throat. “Good evening, Mr. Carswell.”
“Good—good evening, Miss—er—Hilliard,” Carswell said awkwardly. “I—I’m delighted to make your acquaintance—again.”
Regina looked puzzled. Their discomposure was hardly accounted for by the triviality of the occasion. She sought for some reason for it, without understanding in the slightest.
“I do apologize, Miss Hilliard, if I trod upon your gown. It was most clumsy of me. I seem to have lost my balance.”
“Not at all,” Fanny said quickly. “You did not tread on me, I assure you. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Perhaps you are a little warm?” Charlotte suggested, looking at the tiny waist and wondering how much of it was owed to stays and a good maid with one foot on the bedpost. “The garden is quite charming, and we shall not be going in to dine for some minutes yet.”
“Oh how kind of you.” Fanny grasped at the escape, her eyes brimming