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Glasses of wine were being passed about, the crystal glimmering in the golden light. Laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls, and she smiled despite herself. She was glad that her family was a happy one and that all the people in the room were happy too. She hated the dreadful, stodgy, boring affairs where people sat and barely said an interesting word or barely laughed, thinking it far beneath them to enjoy their lives. She might not participate in conversation, but she could still appreciate the goodwill in the room.

Her family enjoyed life the best it could and, somehow, she wanted to do the same.

She wound her way through the packed room, hoping to find a small glass of wine and a spot that she could tuck herself in until she collected the bravery to begin following the instructions in the guide.

Quite surprisingly, she found herself looking out for Lord Darby, wondering if he was about. She had not seen him yet. If he was here, she’d have known.

He was the sort of man that always stood out.

Then she heard his voice coming through the foyer.

She turned, unable to stop herself.

He strode into the room with her brother Edmund, both of them beaming like young gods, laughing at some jest that she could not know. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him.

Darby stopped and he smiled too, a slow turning of his lips as if he was genuinely pleased to see her, and she was stunned that he should feel thus.

He’d never really noticed her before, so it felt quite strange that he was noticing her now. She swallowed, turned, and quickly headed to the corner. She was not prepared yet. She needed to rehearse. She needed to give herself some time to think.

What would she say to him? How would she behave? And how exactly would she wave her fan to cause him to think of her in terms other than her brother’s sister?

As if he felt that she was avoiding him, she realized that he was following her across the room. Her breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat began to run wildly, and she wondered what the devil was about to happen.

For she had never, ever had such intimate conversation with a young man before, and yet, it had felt so entirelyright.

Her cheeks bloomed with heat at the anticipation of him arriving from across the room.

This was too much because it was fulfilling all her youthful dreams. She surely couldn’t dare to believe it was about to happen. That he was seeking her out across a crowded room.

And yet he was, and she found herself beaming with the pleasure of it.

Chapter 4

Darby did not know what made him cross the room so quickly to be by Lady Ophelia’s side, but he found himself compelled to go.

He had been laughing with her brother Edmund.

He and his friend had been discussing the performance at the playhouse the night before, having seenA Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was one of his favorite plays. He loved the antics of the lovers, the faeries, the court, and how things worked out in the end, even when they should not.

He wished life was like that. That it always worked out, even when all indicated it should not. He wondered if it would turn out for himself, but given what he knew of life, he doubted it.

Still, he could not stop himself from chasing that warm feeling he had experienced with Lady Ophelia this afternoon in Hatchards.

So he followed his instincts and crossed the room, easily winding his way through the crush of people.

It made him laugh at the idea that a family’s intimate dinner would include so many. But it was also a good indication of how kind and popular his friend’s family was that so many were invited to such an affair, and that they were all such close friends.

For the room was full of love and laughter, firelight, and wine. One of the sisters played the pianoforte in the corner, filling the air with one of the bright of an Scottish reel.

He’d never been at ease with his own family or in his own home. No, he found the home here to be so much more pleasant. So welcoming. There wasn’t a trace of the frigidity he’d been raised with.

As soon as he found himself standing before Lady Ophelia, he felt right, perfect. It was so strange. He beamed down at her, unable to stop himself.

“Are you and my brother planning some sort of trick? You look all too pleased with yourselves,” she observed.

She whipped out a fan and began waving it quickly in front of her face.

He cocked an eyebrow. “We were not planning anything, merely discussing Shakespeare.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical