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She tried to step away from the man, unfamiliar and unsettled by the warmth growing in her cheeks when a gentle hand clasped the back of her arm.

“I will not forgive you. ”

“I beg your pardon?” she all but cried, whirling around to face him.

Her sudden movement cost her the little stability she had, and she stumbled a bit. A moment ago, she had been shocked to find a stranger of a man touching her; now, she was grateful for the support. She didn’t know she would have remained standing without his secure grip hoisting up her elbow.

“I will not forgive you until you sit a moment with me. You are unwell. I only wish to see you all right before you go.”

Felicity softened at his words. Still, she stole a glance towards the rest of those occupying the veranda.

“No one is paying us any attention. They did not notice our hasty introductions.”

He was right; there was not a single person watching them. The novelty of that fact made her want to relish it for as long as she could.

“I do not know your name, Sir. I could not sit with someone whose name I do not know.”

They both knew it was a pitiful excuse, but Felicity could not come up with any other reason to deny the man. Her mother wouldn’t be expecting her back for several more minutes, and there were plenty of people around to act as chaperones. This was simply a man who wanted to ensure her well-being after an unfortunate collision.

“Benjamin Chapman at your service,” he said before giving her a deep bow.

“Felicity Kent.”

“Enchanted to meet you. Now, will you please sit down before you faint?”

Felicity nodded slowly. Noticing her unsteadiness, Benjamin stepped closer, feeding her arm through his before guiding them both to an empty bench. The wrought iron was cold through the layers of petticoats as she sat. She closed her eyes as he lowered himself onto the seat beside her. For a moment, they sat without speaking, letting the distant noise of the ball settle around them.

“Better?”

He was tense, but the compassion on his face told her it was out of his concern for her.

“Yes, thank you.”

“It is a lot to adjust to. The ton,” he offered in explanation at her confused expression.

“There are more people in that room than I am sure I have ever seen in my life before,” she exclaimed with a small laugh.

“Is this your first season then?”

“It is, and I must admit, I am beginning to miss our house in the country.”

“What a thing for a debutante to say.” He shot her a wide grin. “I must also admit that I, too, find the city exhausting.”

“What brings you here for the season then, if it is not to your liking?”

“I had family matters to attend to.”

She took a moment to think. His name sounded familiar, but she was unable to place it.

“Do you enjoy your home in the city?”

His question seemed to come from nowhere in a blatant attempt to fill the silence.

“What an odd question,” she blurted out. “What I mean to say is, I have yet to be asked by anyone else about my living accommodations. I do enjoy where we are staying.”

“You do not have to be so polite with me. I was only asking as you said you missed your home in the country. I find it is easier to be somewhere I do not want to be as long as the accommodations are acceptable.”

“I have never thought about it that way, but you are right. I find our house here to be a lovely residence. It is nice to have a comfortable home to return to at the end of a long night like this.”


Tags: Emma Linfield Historical