To Love in Silence (Currents of Love Book 3) Page 3

  “A pleasure Mr. Langdon,” she gave a small bob and extended her hand. Warmth crept into her the moment he accepted, seeping through the layers of their gloves where their palms met and stealing her breath away. The feeling receded entirely too soon when he let go of her hand again.

  “I'm so sorry my husband isn't here to greet you as well,” her aunt broke in, oblivious to her distraction. “I'm afraid he had to attend to some business fairly late, but he'll be here later in the evening and I'm sure would love to say hello to you.

  “Of course, I understand,” Mallory acknowledged gracefully.

  “In that case I look forward to his arrival and to enjoying your excellent hospitality until then.”

  Her aunt nodded and angled away to indicate the conversation at an end. “Will you excuse me? It appears my dear friends Lord and Lady de Ponte have arrived, and I am obliged to shower attention on them as we have not seen each other in quite some time.” She moved off without waiting for a response, leaving Eloise to her own devices.

  Not that Eloise minded in the least. With her aunt gone, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders, and she felt her smile widen. She looked to Sarah, who quickly stepped up beside her.

  “This is a wonderful evening,” she commented. “I'm very glad to have been invited.”

  “Yes,” Eloise smiled, “I haven't attended many balls, but I do always enjoy the beautiful decor and watching everyone in their splendid costumes. I am now doubly thrilled to have someone similar in age to chat with.”

  “Oh, yes, me too!” Sarah beamed, reaching over to give Eloise’s hand a small squeeze.

  “And there you have it!” Sir Thomas added in with a grin, I knew the moment your uncle mentioned you, you and Miss Sarah would make excellent companions.”

  Sarah nodded, but Mr. Langdon sent a somewhat disapproving look to his friend, which surprised Eloise and made her wonder what she’d done to earn his dislike. A small pang of disappointment sent heat to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

  The light strains of music struck up from a corner in which a quartet had been placed, which seemed to catch Sir Thomas's attention. He faced Sarah with a smile and extended his hand. “It would appear the orchestra has started, and I believe I've reserved the first dance with you, Miss. Sarah, have I not?”

  Beside her, Sarah blushed and nodded placing her hand in his and allowing herself to be led to the dance floor. The circumstance left Eloise somewhat awkwardly paired with Mr. Langdon. A moment of nervousness passed before Eloise angled toward Eric.

  “Are you enjoying the evening?” The question was out before she realized what she was doing, and she immediately felt her face flush when his eyes widened, and he ducked his gaze. For a moment she thought he might answer her before she remembered he hadn't heard the question.

  Just as she was hoping the earth might open and swallow her, desperately trying to think of a way to tactfully excuse herself, she was startled by the appearance of a small notebook in her field of vision. Blinking she stared at it, then up at Mr. Langdon. He looked nervous but wore a small smile. Taking the offered notebook and pencil, she quickly realized what she was meant to do and jotted her question onto a clean sheet of paper. It took him only a moment to read it before he verbally responded.

  “Yes, although as you may imagine I don't attend very many gatherings.”

  A rich tenor suffused his voice, smooth and calming and sliding over her like a caress. Taking up the notebook again, she responded “A great pity, Mr. Langdon. The event is much improved for your presence.”

  That sparked a small laugh, the sound thrilling through Eloise from head to toe.

  “As I'm sure your Aunt has intimated,” he began, somewhat bitterly, “I am not always the first person people think to include on their guest list.”

  She ducked her head, and he seemed to rethink his statement, for his next words returned to a lighter, pleasant tone. “Honestly, it is much easier for me as well, as I find the necessity of keeping up with multiple people in conversation a bit tiresome.”

  She nodded, then found herself once again standing in awkward silence beside this man who compelled her attention and left her unwilling to move elsewhere. The music waned with their conversation, and her eyes darted around the dance floor in the hopes his companions might return and help continue the conversation. She noted Sarah conversing with a small group of ladies in one corner of the ballroom but did not see Sir Thomas. He must have gone for refreshments or absconded somewhere, likely also catching the eye of acquaintances.

  Eloise shifted her weight and chewed at her lip, sure Mr. Langdon would leave her in the next instant and desperate to find a way to prevent the eventuality. The sound of Eric clearing his throat broke into her moment of despair. When she looked up at him, his eyes held an uncertainty, darting in every direction while he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and stretched his neck to the side.

  “Miss. Marchand,” he questioned, “Do you dance?”

  ELOISE NODDED, UNCERTAIN. Had any other man asked the question, she would have assumed he were asking her onto the floor, but Eric couldn’t possibly...

  He held out a hand, palm up in invitation. She stared at his hand, hesitating only a moment before accepting. Heart thrumming, she hovered somewhere between excitement, curiosity, and concern, wondering how a man who could not hear would be able to lead her through a dance.

  A tell-tale tremor ran through his hand and she glanced at him, noting a slight heightening of color in his cheeks as he led her out onto the floor. He moved with fluid grace, though his back was rigid, and he seemed to take pains in looking straight ahead.

  Confused by his stance, glanced about them, her sense of enthrallment diverted long enough to see the stares and poorly concealed whispers directed at them. When they reached their starting point on the floor a moment of trepidation surfaced. Not because of the judgment following them, but from the realization of what they would be dancing. The band had taken up the opening strains of a waltz.

  Even at her bravest, Eloise had never dared attempt the dance publicly, though privately she enjoyed it a great deal. She considered retracting her acceptance and would have if her partner had been anyone else, but they were fully onto the floor now and she knew any desertion of Mr. Langdon now would be attributed to some disdain for the man himself. Unwilling to create such an embarrassment for him, and more than keen to experience such an intimate dance with this indisputably unique man, Eloise faced him and smiled, letting the rest of the world fade away around them.

  To her great relief, Eric appeared to relax slightly, returning her smile with a small one of his own before taking her into his arms. A moment of hesitation followed, in which Eloise tilted her head back to view his profile, noting the harsh lines of concentration at his jaw and brow. She wondered briefly before realizing his attention was focused on the other couples around them. He was watching them begin their movements, gauging their tempo and timing.

  A moment later, he took his first step with confidence and precision, sending them into the line of dance. Whatever initial insecurities might have accosted her, they vanished within seconds, leaving only pleasant sensation as he pulled her close, strong arms supporting and protecting her through their revolutions. She rested a hand on one broad shoulder, encountering his own muscular frame, not a collection of padding meant to imitate an admirable physique.

  The warmth of their closeness soothed, began to lull her into relaxing. She had every confidence Eric would lead them expertly through the crowd and the temptation to close her eyes and rest her head against him grew fierce. His movements flowed so precisely and with such ease she scarcely thought of her own steps. If anyone had asked her, she would insist either he placed her feet where they ought to be or she floated across the floor, surely that could be the only explanation for the divine lightness she felt dancing with Eric Langdon.

  She allowed the music to wash over her, eyelids drifting almost shut
as she let her body perform the movements without the hindrance of thought. Whatever capacity for thought she could claim was consumed by the man guiding her. Capable and steady, he became her anchor and axis, the thing which lent her stability and balance. She melted into him, coming into contact with a torso every bit as hard and compelling as his shoulder had been.

  A warmth spread through her, though she couldn’t say if it were from the nearness of him or the exertion of their movements, or some combination of the two, but she reveled in it. Just as she wished the music might never end, a giggle from the sidelines caught her attention. A vicious undertone in the sound drew her attention. She turned her gaze to find the source and spied two young ladies avidly watching she and Eric dance, but their attention seemed to be on something just beyond them, beyond Eric’s shoulder.

  It wasn't until Eric began to step into a turn, she saw what the busybodies were so entertained by. A young couple, led by a man Eloise vaguely recognized as a boisterous guest at the few events she’d attended, came swirling in their direction. They danced brazenly, with no concern for the other couples on the floor, barely avoiding them in their enthusiasm. She knew in an instant she and Eric would not have the same luck. If anything, the couple seemed to be aiming for them.

  By the time she made the realization, it was too late to try and alert Eric, the other couple had come upon them too quickly and were about to veer into their trajectory. Eric remained unaware, given the couple advanced from behind them in the line of dance. A moment before they collided, Eloise clutched at his shoulder, instinctively pulling him close. His eyes widened in surprise but then the couple collided into them and they were thrown off balance.

  The man's leg tripped Eric, sending he and Eloise sprawling onto the dance floor while the miscreant couple stumbled and any other dancers in the vicinity struggled to slow or halt their progress. Eric scrambled to a kneeling position and reached for her, with several other pairs of hands assisting them both to stand. She looked up to see Sir Thomas and Miss Sarah beside them, faces clouded over with both concern and anger. The damage had been done.

  The music and dancing had come to a complete standstill as a flurry of wild commentary began. To her embarrassment and disgust, most of the remarks did not revolve around the inconsiderate nature of the couple who had collided with them, but insinuated that Eric was somehow at fault for having been on the dance floor in the first place.

  She and Eric, flanked by Sir Thomas and Sarah, removed themselves from the dance floor, but before she had a chance to speak to Eric, her aunt joined them, pale and shaking with what Eloise recognized as anger. Before the night ended, her aunt would provide an earful about her brazenness and having embarrassed her.

  “Sir Thomas, thank you for your assistance with my niece.” The Countess paused to offer the appreciation before turning a glare on Eloise. “I can't imagine what you were thinking.”

  “Aunt, that other couple was not—”

  “We’ll discuss it later.” Her aunt snapped. “I'm sure, had you made a more appropriate choice in partner, any calamity could have been avoided.” Mallory and Sarah both stiffened at the comment, but her aunt didn't seem to notice. Eric, for his part refused to look at any of them, his eyes settled straight ahead, countenance stiff and unyielding. Eloise’s heart reached out to him, knowing he understood full well the gossiping commentary going on around him, even if he didn't hear it.

  “Sir Thomas,” Sarah began, ignoring the countess, “I should like to go home, it grows late, and I am weary.”

  Mallory nodded his agreement. “I'll go call for your coach.”

  Sarah placed a soft hand on her brother’s sleeve, and he glanced at her. She went through a set of hand motions and Eric gave a curt nod.

  “Eloise,” Sarah began with a small, apologetic smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Eloise opened her mouth to respond, but her aunt huffed and began tugging her away. She pulled out of the woman's grasp and headed off Sarah and Eric as they turned to leave, grasping Sarah’s hands. “It was a great pleasure to have met you, Sarah, and I hope we might meet again soon.”

  She tried to convey her earnest sentiment in her words and hoped Sarah's continued smile indicated that she had. Then she looked up at Eric, who still avoided connecting his gaze with anyone else’s. Distraught, she looked again at his sister. “Would you please tell your brother it was a pleasure to meet him as well and I am much obliged for his attention?”

  Sarah hesitated, glancing up at Eric, but began to translate the message in their curious language of hand signals.

  Eric, softening slightly, tilted his head just far enough to acknowledge Eloise and nodded before they continued toward the door. Eloise watched them go, heart breaking. Here she’d finally met two people capable of taking her mind away from the misery of her life and home only to lose them so quickly.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ERIC RESHUFFLED THE paperwork on his desk, having lost count of how many times he had done so that morning. His thoughts kept wandering back to the night of the ball and the dance he shared with Miss. Marchand. Staving off memories of the mortifying end to that dance, his mind seemed intent on replaying the blissful moments preceding it in a constant recurring loop.

  He couldn't understand why the simple action affected him so, it wasn’t as though he’d never danced with a beautiful woman before, but he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since. Other dances had always been something more stilted and on a far smaller scale. He’d learned to dance with his siblings, occasionally partnered a local girl or two at small family gatherings, but he realized early on making an offer at a larger event generally led to embarrassment. The lady might accept out of a sense of duty, but no matter how flawlessly he executed the steps a distrust always remained, providing him a partner difficult to lead or interact with as she constantly resisted his movements in the interest of self-preservation.

  That hadn’t happened with Eloise. She’d practically molded herself into his arms, letting her eyelids droop and trusting him to guide her across the floor. Once he comprehended that, something extraordinary happened. An exuberance filled him almost to overflowing and he felt... confident. More so than he had in years. Her blind trust, temporary as it had been, allowed him to let go of all the reservations he normally carried with him, his doubts and insecurities related to moving through a crowd where he knew he was almost universally unwelcome, and dance. For the first time fully and whole heartedly as a dance ought to be enjoyed. Not with the sedate fondness of quality time spent with siblings, but as a truly romantic interlude.

  Eric froze in his meaningless puttering. He must be going mad. A romantic interlude? He shook his head. How these thoughts managed to take hold and perpetuate themselves he couldn’t say, but they required banishment.

  He flopped into his chair. Easier said than done, unfortunately. As his luck would have it, Miss. Marchand and Sarah were apparently getting on quite well. Sarah had already been to visit Eloise at her aunt and uncle’s estate, and today Eloise was due to visit Heathermoore.

  The fact should mean absolutely nothing to Eric. As the main manager of the estate, it wasn't as though he had endless time to while away. There were many and far more important matters deserving his attention. He paced to the window and stared out, glad at least the study looked onto the gardens in back of the estate rather than the drive out front or he knew he would never have left the window and would be foolishly watching for the arrival of Eloise’s carriage.

  A minute rumbling in the floorboards set his heart to racing and he turned toward the door, a too eager. But no angelic vision met his foolish and hopeful gaze. Sir Thomas entered the study, a grin far too foolish for his years plastered on his face. The man was becoming insufferable.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever been so pleased to see me, Eric,” He intoned by way of a greeting, his hands following along with his words.

  “I’m still not,” Eric grumbled. “I thought y
ou were Sarah.”

  “Ah, well, that’s not surprising. I hear you've become quite flustered since the night of the ball,” he mused.

  “And who would you have heard that from?” Eric responded knowing full well Thomas could read him like an open book.

  “No one in particular,” the man shrugged. “A bird here, a bird there. You know, it's not too late for you to take up the assignment.

  “There is no assignment, Thomas,” Eric growled. “You know how I feel about this. If you're up to something and using my sister—”

  Mallory held up his hands in surrender “of course not, I just mean that if you would prefer to be the one to spend time with Miss. Marchand—”

  “And why in the world would you think she would want to spend time with me?” Eric instantly regretted his hasty words, a sure giveaway of his tumultuous feelings.

  “Come now, my friend, you don't give yourself enough credit. You're not a sequestered schoolboy, and heaven knows it's been an age since you had an opportunity for nice liaison.”

  “The liaisons you're talking about are anything but nice,” Eric grumbled, “and those assignments were with bored widows and society wives, not with innocent young women.”

  “True enough,” Thomas conceded. “But you can't deny that every now and again a woman's attention is something one craves.”

  Eric turned from his friend, refusing to get mired in this conversation. While he'd never caught wind of any complaints about his attentions, and in the beginning had even attempted to convince himself that the women involved might have some sentiment other than pity or sheer boredom involved, he had come to understand that wasn't the case. And a woman's attentions or lovemaking became singularly unenjoyable the more readily one understood that his partner was his partner due to pity and not even a respectable level of lust.

  “Did you at least find anything useful during your snooping at the de Durand estate?” Eric changed the topic, setting a mask of disinterest on his features before turning back to Thomas. He remembered seeing Mallory disappear into the shadowed hallways after his dance with Sarah.