Aiden's eyes widened, and Celia knew he'd realized this was Stenfax's and Gray's sister. "Ah," he said, his tone now more neutral. "Well, good evening." Felicity nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting. "Might I steal your friend for a moment?" he asked. "To dance the next?"
"Of course."
Felicity smiled at Celia before Aiden offered an arm to her. Celia took it and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. The music began and Celia shivered as the strains of the waltz filled the air. She couldn't help but be happy that she could remain in his embrace throughout the song.
They moved into the circling couples and she looked up into his handsome face, which was focused, and she realized he was internally counting once more. She smiled and he caught her gaze, held it and then, suddenly, looked away.
"What thought just came into your head?" she asked with a frown.
He arched a brow as he glanced back at her. "Thought?"
She took a breath. She could easily play off her question, pretend it away so that she wouldn't have to take a risk by pressing him.
Except he was worth the risk. She knew that as easily as she knew her own mind and heart.
"You were smiling and then suddenly you looked upset," she explained softly. "I wondered what in the world could have inspired such a shift."
His lips pressed together. "You are attentive."
Those words should have been a compliment, but they didn't sound like one.
"Do you want a lady who is not?" she asked.
He shook his head. "A lady who wasn't would likely be boring, indeed. Your intellect and your knack at observation are both bewitching, I assure you."
"And yet you don't sound happy," she continued. "Do you want to talk to me about why?"
"You are also singular," he accused with a laugh that didn't exactly sound jovial. Then he lowered his voice slightly. "The thought that went through my head is that I may not be the man you hope me to be. The man you deserve, Celia. I will hate to let you down."
She wrinkled her brow. "So you think you aren't worthy of me?"
She almost laughed at the notion. After all, she and Rosalinde were the granddaughters of a gentleman, but he wasn't titled. And no one save Stenfax, Felicity and Gray knew the truth about their real father. If Clairemont knew the facts of their parentage, perhaps he wouldn't be addressing his own worthiness, but hers.
She frowned at the idea.
"Now you are the one scowling," he said. "Perhaps I've struck on a topic you never considered."
The music was building toward the final notes, and she took a long breath. "Aiden, I assure you, I have never and would never consider you unworthy. Your title and whatever comes with it aside, I like you. I like being with you. I like the way I feel when you're near me. Now maybe those aren't ladylike things to admit, but they are entirely true. Nothing would change that. Not now, not in the future."
The music ended with her words and he stopped moving, staring intently into her eyes even as he held her a moment too long. Then he shook his head.
"None of us can predict the future, Celia. As much as we wish we could, it is not possible." He released her and guided her from the dance floor. "I should go talk to Danford now, as I have matters to discuss with him. Perhaps we can dance again later."
She nodded as he bowed and walked away, but it was a reflexive motion, not one born from what was inside of her. Right now she was a boiling cauldron of confusion. This man was meant to be courting her, which meant he was contemplating a future with her. She felt connected to him and she knew he felt the same with her.
So they should have been happy. And yet again she felt this disconnect between them. As if the closer he came to happiness, the more he built a wall between it and his heart. A wall that blocked her out, even as he drew her closer in public … in private.
Aiden was weaving his way through the crowd now, making a beeline for Gray and Rosalinde, who were about to take the dance floor for the allemande. She turned away from their intense smiles for each other, their connection that was so obvious even across the room.
She wanted that same connection so badly. And yet she sometimes wasn't certain that Aiden intended to allow it. With a sigh, she walked through the ballroom and outside onto the wide stone terrace. She needed air now, needed to get away from the crowd and her confusing emotions.
The night was warm for spring and the terrace was crowded, so she maneuvered her way to the stone staircase that led to the garden below. When she was hidden in the shadows, out of the prying eyes of those above, she stopped. She clung to the railing and stared up into the dark night. The comet Aiden had shown her just a week ago still lit up the darkness, and she smiled up at it.
"Making a wish?"
She turned toward the voice that had interrupted her reverie and smiled as the Earl of Stenfax came down the stairs toward her. Her former fiancé returned the expression as he held out an arm to her.
"Come, we could both use a walk," he said.
She laughed and took his offer, letting him guide her to the garden where they began to walk down a winding path to a gazebo in the distance. "How do you know I could use a walk?" she asked.
In the dimness she didn't see his smile as much as hear it in his voice when he said, "Standing there wishing on comets gave you away."
"I wasn't wishing on the comet-I don't think it works that way," Celia said with another laugh.
It was funny. When she had been engaged to the tall, handsome earl she had not been connected to him at all. They had struggled whenever they were forced to speak and she'd felt awkward and odd in his presence.
Now, with their engagement at an end, with him being the only person outside of Gray and Rosalinde who knew any of the truth about her past, that discomfort was gone. She actually liked Stenfax, even if she had no desire to be his bride.
"I'm not sure wishing on anything works very well," he said, taking them up the short set of stairs to the gazebo. Lanterns had been lit around its perimeter, casting a soft light into the building.
She sat on the bench that had been placed encircling the inside of the structure, and he took a place next to her. "Do you have something you need to wish for, Stenfax?" she asked.
He turned his face toward hers with a half-smile. "Is this your way of asking about Elise? Are you a spy for Gray and Felicity?"
She examined his face closely. Stenfax had been engaged to a young woman named Elise long before Celia had even met him. When Elise threw him over for a better title, it had crushed the man. But recently the lady's husband had died, leaving her, the Duchess of Kirkford, free.
"Your sister and brother worry, you know that," Celia said softly. "They love you."
"Yes." Stenfax sighed. "I suppose Gray, especially, fears I will entangle myself in Elise-that woman's web again. That I'll be hurt as I was before."
"And is that your intention?" Celia pressed, truly interested and concerned herself. The last thing she wanted was for Stenfax to be hurt. He didn't deserve that. He'd never been anything but kind to her and never kinder than when they ended their engagement.
"She hasn't returned to Society as of yet," Stenfax said, staring straight ahead. His jaw flexed. "Her mourning period isn't even over until the fall. But when it is, I have no intention of seeing her. You may report that back if you'd like."
"I wasn't asking for your siblings' interest, but my own," Celia said. "You and I may not have married, but since our engagement ended I have begun to think of you as a friend."
He smiled at her. "A friend. I'd like to be your friend, Celia. Sincerely. And I appreciate your worry, as well as that of Gray and Felicity. But it is all misplaced. The Duchess of Kirkford holds no sway over me. She never will again."
But there was something in his tone that belied his words. Something in his expression, as well. Still, it wasn't Celia's place to push him or advise him.
"Now, as your friend, I suppose it is my turn to ask after you," Stenfax said. "What's this I hear about the Duke of Clairemont courting you?"
"Seems like your siblings are more a spy for you than me for them," Celia teased.
"It is in the grapevine, my dear," Stenfax said, holding up his hands. "Everyone is raring to tell me how you have found yourself a duke."
Celia's lips parted and she turned toward him. "Oh, Stenfax, I didn't even think how the two situations might look alike to others."
He shook his head. "No one who matters thinks you threw me over for a duke. I'm certain they would be crowing to me just to see my reaction if you were being courted by a baronet or a shopkeeper, too."
"Well, if anyone is so bold as to suggest that I threw you over for a higher title, they will get an earful from me in retort," Celia said.
"What do you think of your duke?" Stenfax asked.
She lifted her brows. "Why do you ask?"
"I suppose curiosity as your former fiancé. And some concern as your friend."
"I-I like him, Stenfax, I really do," she admitted softly. "You and I, it should have worked, but neither of us felt that attraction, that connection that we should have as intendeds. But with him … " She trailed off with a blush.