Chapter 6
Ellen glanced over her shoulder to where Lord Simon stood with his friend. At first, she had been relieved to escape him after they had come through to the drawing room after dinner. However, now she was irked by his seeming lack of interest in her.
She turned back around slowly. Her sisters chatted gaily, and she tried to listen to their conversation.
“I heard he has five thousand a year,” Beatrice, her sixteen-year-old sister whispered. She nodded in Lord Simon’s direction. “Father has indeed secured a most advantageous match for you, Ellen. I hope I am as lucky when my time to wed comes.”
“If you think it lucky to be wed to a man you hardly know,” Ellen replied, wringing her hands. Beatrice raised a brow, her face softening. “He was very taciturn during dinner.”
“You can get to know him again. I am sure all will be well in time, Ellen,” Beatrice offered. “I do not see him as taciturn. Perhaps cautious is a better word. And you can hardly blame him if he is being cautious around you. From what Golda has told me of your last meeting, you were not very kind to him.”
Her little sister’s chastisement pricked. She waved her off, quickly changing the subject. “Do not fret, little sister. I am sure you have better things than to be bothered with my problems. I believe Mr Dalton asked for your first dance set, did he not?” She offered a peace-making smile.
“Yes, he did—” Beatrice began, but Ellen cut her off. She turned Beatrice around and whispered encouragingly in her ear.
“Well, here he comes to claim his prize.” Beatrice gave a small laugh and smoothed down her dress. She pasted a brilliant smile on her face as he led her out of the drawing room to the ballroom across the hall.
“You think too much, Ellen.” Golda looked about, and Ellen followed her eyes. Their father walked over to them, placing a hand on Ellen’s lower back.
“My dear, I am going to suggest you and Simon lead the first dance set. I shall be back directly,” he whispered.
Ellen tried to reach for his arm, but he was already gone. “Papa, that is not necessary—”
“Tush, Ellen. It is time you put your differences aside and make the best of this arrangement,” Golda said. Ellen let out a huff.
“It is not fair that everyone else has a say in my life, except for me,” she mumbled.
“Stop acting like a spoiled child,” Golda retorted. There was no time to defend herself, for her father had returned with Lord Simon. She turned around and gave him a sarcastic smile.
He returned it without an ounce of mockery. “Lady Ellen. Would you do me the honour of this dance?” he asked. He held out his hand, and his deep voice sent shivers up and down her spine. She hesitated for a split second.
Her father nodded and motioned for Golda to walk with him, leaving Simon and her with a semblance of privacy. She looked at his hand. “Do not feel that you are obligated to ask me to dance, Lord Simon. Just because it is expected does not mean you must.”
“Thank you for your concern, Lady Ellen. But I would not have asked you if I did not want to,” he replied with a charming smile. “Please.”
She looked at his hand again and finally placed hers inside it. His fingers were warm as they enveloped her hand, and she felt a tingle travel up her arm. He led her out into the hall and across the way into the ballroom. The musicians were seated, readying their instruments for the first set.
He led her to the middle of the floor, and she was mortified to realise that the first dance was a waltz. The musicians finished tuning and struck the first chord.
“May I?” Lord Simon asked, even as he placed his hand on the small of her back. Warmth spread through her middle, and she hung her head, embarrassed of her reaction to him. Her heart skipped a beat, and he pulled her closer and started to sway back and forth to the music.
Shame filled her anew as she remembered that he had overheard her conversation with Golda. What was she to say to him now that he knew what she thought of him?
He looked down at her of a sudden and smiled. “Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Ellen?” he asked. She looked to the side as they turned around the room amidst the other couples.
“I am—” she began but halted mid-sentence. There was no use in lying. She bit her lower lip. “I cannot say that I am, Lord Simon. I believe I owe you quite an apology for what I said earlier. Please forgive me,” she said.
He seemed surprised by this. “Well, I suppose I do not blame you for having reservations. I had a few of my own before I arrived this evening,” he said. He let out a sigh, the smile disappearing from his face. “I want to apologise for my actions at dinner, Lady Ellen.”
Surprised, she stuttered for a moment, not knowing how to respond. After a brief pause, he went on, “I should not have baited you as I did. Despite what you believe, I was not eavesdropping.”
She cleared her throat. Golda was right, perhaps. She should try to put her old prejudices to rest and make the best of the arrangement.
“It is quite awkward after the way we left things ten years ago. I suppose I was nervous of what you might think of me,” she admitted softly. His grip around her waist tightened, and she felt her cheeks grow warm with a renewed blush. “I should not have said I hated you.”
His features softened. “I might have deserved it. But did you ever think that the reason I picked on you when we were children was because I had feelings for you?”
Ellen could not help the soft gasp that escaped her lips. She would not have guessed that in a million years. All this time, she had thought Simon had annoyed and plagued her because he enjoyed watching her suffer. “No, I did not,” she admitted. Her heart beat so fast that she thought it might burst out of her chest. He was so handsome, and his bright green eyes held such genuine feeling. How could she not believe him?