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  “I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “What were you going to say?”

  “Simply that I should go back upstairs,” Pauline said ruefully. “My family will wonder where I am.”

  “Of course. Of course,” he nodded briskly.

  Neither of them moved and Pauline felt her face smiling.

  “My lord, what were you going to say?”

  “Oh, nothing...I...” he looked at his boots, seeming suddenly awkward. “I just meant to say that, if you are going to be here in a week, you might attend the Officer's Ball, or...” he trailed off.

  Pauline smiled. “I would be glad to attend the Officer's Ball, my lord.” She suspected the parchment was an invitation to her family, but didn't want to say so. To be invited in person by this man was far better.

  “Well, then,” he said, swallowing tightly. “I should be off. Greetings, Lady Pauline.”

  “Fare well, Lord Harrington.”

  When he went out, Pauline leaned back, feeling a little strange. She looked up at the ceiling. Her heart was fluttering and her face was warm. Her stomach felt as if it was home to a thousand fluttering wings. She smiled.

  “...if I will be at the Officer's Ball?” she repeated, smilingly. “Indeed, I shall, Lord Harrington.”

  She giggled softly. The feeling that had settled on her since she saw him warmed her heart, making everything, even the familiar, marble-tiled hallway, seem new and wondrous.

  It will be pleasant to see him again.

  It was only after she crossed the hall and found herself upstairs again that she remembered Cornelius Stanmore existed.

  Chapter 2

  Pauline heard the voices drifting up from the drive with some surprise. She paused where she sat at the pianoforte, hands reaching for a new book of Beethoven concertos, and strained her ears to listen.

  “And we shall stop here for a fortnight. Just the thing in the summer...”

  “Oh, yes, mother!”

  Pauline stood up in a hurry. “Cousin Cornelia! I quite forgot. Oh, heavens!”

  She headed speedily to the door, pausing in her flight to check her appearance in the mirror before hurrying past. The mirror showed her a tall woman with prettily ringleted hair, wearing a lavender colored muslin gown.

  At least I thought to dress in my smartest day-dress.

  She smoothed down a stray hair as she hurried down the stairs, settled her skirts and walked calmly to the front door and down the stairs. Their visitors were standing at the bottom before their newly-arrived carriage. Mother was with them.

  “Cousin! Aunt Allectia! How lovely!” Pauline smiled.

  “Pauline! Perfect,” Mother said, relieved. “Just in time to help me show Aunt Allectia to her room...” she bustled past, heading inside ahead of the visitors.

  “Cousin!” Cornelia exclaimed, seeing Pauline and running to embrace her. Pauline squeezed her young cousin in return, smiling as the small, fragrant curly head bobbed up to her chin. Diminutive and auburn-haired, cousin Cornelia was a delight.

  “Hello, Cornelia,” Pauline smiled, gripping her cousin's hand in hers as they walked up the stairs together behind Mother and Allectia.

  “We had such a lovely trip! The sun shone the whole way and our new carriage is even faster than the old one...” Cornelia effused as they walked up the stairs together.

  Pauline, walking with her cousin, found herself feeling worldly and quite old, even though their cousin was only five years her junior. Lively and hopeful, Cornelia always seemed much younger. It brought out Pauline's maternal instincts.

  “It's good to have you safely here,” she said, squeezing her cousin's warm hand. “I hope you've come prepared for parties,” she added.

  “Oh, heavens! Not more of them,” Allectia said dolefully. She cast a glance at Pauline where they all stood in the hallway, the butler taking the new arrival's coats and bonnets. “We've attended so many this last week!”

  “Not nearly enough!” Cornelia giggled. Pauline smiled. She was sorry Matilda had left just before the pair arrived – Matilda always enjoyed Cornelia's buoyancy too. Now, she turned to Matilda, stroking auburn hair out of her eyes, heart-shaped face bright and expectant.

  “We do expect some balls,” Pauline said cautiously. In truth, she had not forgotten the Officer's Ball since two days before when Lieutenant Harrington mentioned it. She was not likely to forget.

  “Oh, splendid!” Cornelia effused. “Then I'm glad I brought my new gown. It's pink, Cousin Pauline, and very pretty. Oh, you must see it!”

  Pauline smiled. “I'm sure I would like to.”

  “Now, come on, ladies,” Mother's voice cut across their chatting. “I've had tea laid out in the main parlor upstairs. And we've put you in the green room, Allectia. Cornelia, if you would take the yellow?”

  “Oh, yes!” Cornelia said, bounding up the stairs beside Pauline. They all walked sedately up the steps, the sound muted by the thick stair carper and silken wallpaper as they passed along the hallway.

  Ten minutes later, Pauline sank into a wing-back seat in the parlor and felt herself relax for the first time since she heard the arrival. Whew. Cornelia is a dear, but she's too energetic.

  She watched as Cornelia looked out over the estate, plying Lucas with questions about the grounds, her fingers looped in her pale pink skirts, cherry lip bitten in a look of consternation. As she chatted away, Pauline found herself concerned for Lucas, who looked gray with exhaustion, swaying a little where he stood. Brother, I hope you are recovered from your trip.

  Pauline caught her brother's laconic grin, almost as if he had heard her question. Her junior by a year, she and Lucas had always been close. He had traveled down from London and, clearly, the journey still wore on him. It was a long way from London, even in such clement weather.

  Now, he stood beside Cornelia at the window, hand splayed on the back of the leather wing-back that was her father's, using it for support.

  “...and I'm sure you'll be able to ride over there tomorrow,” he was saying to Cornelia. His finger pointed out a route up the hill, just visible from the window. Even his voice was tired. Pauline tensed, going to join him. Just then, Cornelia moved.

  “Mother!” Cornelia called, heading to where Aunt Allectia sat with Lady Braxton on the chaise, “can I go riding tomorrow? I'm sure I shan't tire myself out too much before the ball...”

  “Oh, Cornelia,” their aunt replied tiredly. “Do you never get tired?”

  “Oh! No, Mother...”

  While their cousin was distracted, Pauline joined her brother at the window. They both drank their tea quietly and looked out over the grounds, enjoying the momentary peace.

  “You are going to attend the ball tomorrow?” Lucas asked, setting his cup down in its saucer.

  “I think so, Lucas,” Pauline said carefully. “We were invited.” She blew on the fragrant tea to cool it, admiring the delicate Sevres porcelain. Inside, her heart was thumping. Somehow, some part of her expected her mother to refuse to attend at the last minute, obliging her to stay at home as well.

  “Well, then,” Lucas agreed. “I ought to attend, but I have business in Wainsford. If you will convey my apologies to our friend the major?”

  “Of course, Lucas,” Pauline demurred. She suspected he was still too tires: his skin was grayish and he looked haggard. It wasn't just the journey, she knew: Father was still frail and Lucas had taken on almost all the managing of the finances. It was a heavy burden for his young shoulders, leaving him less time for socializing than he ought to have.

  “I'm sure it will be a good evening.”

  “I think it should be, Lucas,” Pauline said softly. If a certain officer was there, it would be sure to be. Pauline looked away, trying to hide her evident excitement from Lucas. Any mention of the good officer and Mother might find out.

  Mother still wants me for Cornelius.

  “I shall miss Major Cartwright,” Lucas observed, cutting into her thoughts about Cornelius and Lieutenant Harrington.
“Sister? You look distressed.”

  “No,” Pauline said distractedly. “It's nothing, Lucas.”

  “Oh, good,” Lucas sighed. “I don't want my dear sister distressed,” he said fondly. Pauline smiled into his handsome face. With the same auburn hair as their cousin, matched with chestnut-dark eyes, Lucas was the sort of young man who would turn ladies' heads.

  It is unsisterly to compare, but Lieutenant Harrington is even more fine-looking than he is.

  She smiled and felt her cheeks warm with a blush.

  “Sister?”

  Pauline saw Lucas looking at her searchingly. “Sorry, brother, dear. Miles away.”

  “Oh. I was just asking after Matilda. I saw her so briefly. Pity, that.”

  “Matilda is well. The babe is due in December, if all goes well.”

  “Wonderful,” Lucas said, warmly. “And then I shall be an uncle. Fancy me, an uncle! Doesn't make sense, does it, Leenie?”

  Pauline smiled at the use of her childhood name. “No, dear. Not at all.”

  They were both looking out over the garden, lost in thoughts of their nephew-to-be, or niece, when Cornelia appeared.

  “Pauline? Could I claim you for a while?”

  “Why yes, dear,” Pauline said distractedly, looking over at Lucas, who raised a brow; his equivalent of a shrug.

  “Oh, wonderful! I just wanted to ask you about dresses. You are always so clever with this sort of thing; and you see the latest fashions here – up in the North, everything is so far behind!” she lamented.

  Pauline smiled. “I'm glad I can help. You have some idea for colors? Cream is quite fashionable, of course; and pale mint green.”

  “Oh! Lovely!” Cornelia exclaimed, hands clasped. “Oh, let's plan for the ball. What shall you wear?”

  Pauline bit her lip. She had planned to wear her dusky pink dress, the one that contrasted perfectly with her black eyes.

  I really do want to look my best, don't I? She lifted a hand to hide her shy smile. Lieutenant Harrington had made quite an impression. As she sat listening to her cousin's bright conversation, she found herself daydreaming about his handsome face, his soft blue eyes, his grin. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she felt excited for the ball.

  Just then, Mrs. Marwell appeared in the doorway.

  “Milady?” she said to Pauline, who turned inquiring eyes to her. “There's a gentleman downstairs. Says he has a message for you.”

  Pauline felt her heart lurch. “Thank you, Marwell.”

  She headed quickly down the stairs behind Mrs. Marwell, feeling at once apprehensive and pleased.

  But it wasn't Lieutenant Harrington. It was Cornelius Stanmore.

  He took his hat off and bowed low to her. Pauline met his gaze with some foreboding.

  “My lady,” he said. “I was just passing through Braxley and I heard word of a ball this evening. I thought it would be splendid if you could attend it with me.”

  Pauline closed her eyes a moment. Frustration vied with sadness inside her and frustration won. “Well, as it happens, Lord Stanmore, we were all invited – Major Cartwright is a longstanding acquaintance,” she said coolly.

  “Oh! Well, then; we can all attend together. Isn't that a capital idea?” he beamed, ruddy cheeks lifting in a smile.

  Pauline wanted to cry. “Yes, Lord Stanmore.”

  “Capital! And another thing...will you come to Tolford House, Saturday next? We were planning a ride through the forest. We must needs check the woods before the hunting season starts, eh?” he paused. “No good having too many bolt-holes for our foxes, what?”

  Pauline nodded mutely.

  “Capital! I'll see you on Saturday. And this evening at the ball. Good day, my lady.”

  “Good day, Lord Stanmore.”

  As she watched him mount his horse, lifting his hat jauntily as he rode away, another thought occurred to her. Cornelius might be there, but so will Lieutenant Harrington. Seeing them together might be no bad thing: in contrast with Valerian, it might become clear to her just why she could not bring herself to like Cornelius.

  He's affable, polite, respectable...why does he set my teeth on edge?

  This would be the chance to find out.

  Pauline waved at the man as he rode away, then headed upstairs to join her aunt and cousin. It was only a few hours before they would be preparing for the ball. She was more determined than ever to enjoy herself. Cornelius Stanmore was not going to spoil her evening.

  Chapter 3

  The next evening, Pauline dressed carefully in her favorite gown, a soft blue. She sat back watching her maid dress her hair, eying her work more carefully than usual. Were ringlets really right for this? Or should she have a more elegant up-do?

  After a half an hour of preparations, she descended the stairwell to the hallway, still feeling slightly nervous as she joined her cousin and their mothers and sped off in the carriage into the darkness of evening.

  Pauline drifted up the steps of Aspen House, the venue of the military ball. She felt the cool wind teasing her muslin skirts and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. All she could think of was the fact that Lieutenant Harrington would be there.

  Calm, Pauline. He's just a lieutenant. Nothing to get excited about. Be calm...

  “Ah! Lady Pauline!” the cheerful voice of Major Cartwright broke in on her thoughts. “You are looking pretty, if I might say so?”

  Pauline smiled politely, letting him kiss her hand. “Thank you, Major.”

  “Not at all. Not at all...you'll be turning heads here, so you will!”

  Pauline thanked him and drifted quietly past, heading into the hall. Inside, she looked up at the ceiling, soaring above and decorated with a few crystal chandeliers. The room was brightly-lit and somewhere a quartet played a gentle tune.

  “Oh, Pauline! Is not this nice?” Cornelia effused from beside her. Pauline smiled at her cousin. Dressed in a white gown with lace around the neck, a white plume in her hair, she was the epitome of pretty youthfulness.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “Very nice.”

  “And look at all the officers. Oh! Pauline! I'm so shy...”

  Pauline patted her hand. “Don't be shy, dear. Imagine – they're just as shy of you as you of them. More so, likely: You see officers and gentlemen every day. But they don't see fine ladies very often.”

  Cornelia looked up at her, dark eyes round and wide. “Oh, Pauline! What a thought! Now I'll think of that and be as bold as blazes, so I shall.”

  Pauline stifled her own laughter behind a satin-gloved hand. “Oh, Cornelia. You are shocking.”

  Cornelia giggled. “Well, off I go! If not to dance with all those officers, why did I come? I love dancing!” she executed a little twirl. “Do come with me?”

  Pauline nodded, amused. “Of course.”

  She followed her cousin, who walked nervously in the direction of a wall of red-uniformed militia. She took a chance to look around the hall, noting that all the local gentry were attending as well. She saw Lady Featherston and Lord Henley and nodded politely on the way past. As yet, there was no sign of Cornelius.

  “Cousin?” Cornelia whispered, bringing Pauline's attention back to the moment.

  “Mm?”

  “Look,” Cornelia said urgently. “No. Don't. He's coming over. Oh my, he's so handsome...”

  “Who is? Oh...”

  Pauline blinked, not sure whether or not she could trust her eyes. The man crossing the floor to join them, dressed in the stunning red uniform of the Royal Cavalry, was Lieutenant Harrington.

  “My lady,” he said, smiling earnestly at Pauline. “It is an honor to see you here. May I introduce my friend, Francis? He is also a lieutenant. Francis, meet Lady Pauline and...” he faltered, the smile on his handsome face growing tense.

  Pauline bit her lip to stifle a giggle. He looked so embarrassed! “Lieutenant Harrington, may I introduce my cousin, Lady Cornelia?”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course! Charmed,” he added, bowing po
litely to Cornelia before turning to his tall, blonde friend. “Francis, Lady Pauline and Lady Cornelia. My ladies, please meet Francis Westmore.”

  “Delighted, Lieutenant,” Pauline murmured. Cornelia did the same. She had stopped looking at Lieutenant Harrington altogether and was instead focused on Francis with a slightly dreamy look, lips parted. Pauline looked away, amused. She found herself looking into the eyes of Lieutenant Harrington.

  “My lady,” he said. “I am so pleased you could be with us this evening. A modest event, but I think we shall have some fun?” he said, sounding hopeful.

  “Indeed, Lieutenant.”

  Pauline looked at her white-gloved hands, trying to remain composed. Inside, her heart was thudding so that she felt sure it would disturb her tight corset. He was breathtakingly handsome, in a way that made her feel bashful. She looked up into his eyes, lost for words. He looked back. His own sapphire eyes were soft.

  “My lady, I...forgive me,” he said, laughing self-consciously. “I was just...you look remarkable.”

  Pauline felt her throat close up with feeling. “Oh?” she croaked. “Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed hotly and she looked away, suddenly shy.

  He grinned. “Not at all, my lady. I...forgive me – I'm not always this obtuse.” He laughed. “Something has altered me tonight.”

  Pauline laughed. “Lieutenant, I am afraid I'm not myself either.” Her heart was thudding, her cheeks flushed and smiling. She was not herself at all, but a radiant, glowing presence, heart bubbling with joy.

  “Well,then,” he said, voice light. “Should we join in with the spirit of the day, and dance?”

  Pauline giggled. He looked so eager and expansive, one arm thrown out to indicate the floor.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Together, they walked slowly to the square where couples were already taking their positions. Feeling as if she strayed into a dream, Pauline took up a place opposite the handsome officer and felt his hands take hers. His firm touch thrilled through her, making her heart thump.