Page 84 of My Fair Lord

Ned bowed his head again. “I know. Try not to hate me for it.”

“I can’t say yet whether I’ll hate you,” Florence answered honestly. “The whole thing feels like a bad dream and I’m unable to untangle my thoughts. You had better come and see me tomorrow. I think you owe me an explanation and we both owe one to my father.”

“So do I,” said Ned. “But before that, let’s dance and show your father and everyone here that Florence Wakechild is capable of enchanting an earl.”

She walked at his side, back straight and head high. It was only as they approached the room that she ground to a halt.

“I can’t go back in there,” she said. “Everyone will be looking at me. I’ve made such a fool of myself. You made a fool of me.”

“I regret that more than anything. I can’t do much to rectify that, but let me try. I promised you before that I would be with you and I will keep that promise now. Just look into my eyes and forget there is anyone else in the room.”

Ned took her hand, closing his fingers around hers. He’d done it countless times before but never had the gesture seemed so heartfelt.

“Mr Blake, take me to dance,” she said.

They crossed the threshold. The chatter of conversation grew muted. Cordelia was standing beside Sapphire and Estelle. She winked at Florence.

Sapphire stepped forward and curtsied to Ned, causing murmurs around the room which died down as she raised her voice.

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Fitton. I had no idea that you were attending my little gathering.”

Ned bowed then took her hand and kissed it. Sapphire’s eyes grew wide.

“The apologies are all mine, Mrs Faulkner. I have only recently come into the title. Confirmation of the fact did not become knowledge until I had embarked on my voyage to visit my good friends the Wakechilds. You know the family, of course?”

He turned and bowed to Clayton and the Griggses. Clayton looked bemused but managed a bow in return.

“I know them very well.” Sapphire beamed at Florence. “In fact, Miss Wakechild and my dear Estelle are the closest friends. Perhaps you would permit me to leave a card at your residence, my lord? I would be honoured to invite you here to view our art collection.”

“I’d be delighted. The fame of your collection spreads wide.”

Ned bowed again, then turned and looked at Florence who had been standing mutely throughout the exchange. She breathed in and out slowly, trying her best to retain her equilibrium.

“Now, Mrs Faulkner, may I beg a favour? This captivating creature is waiting to dance and a gentleman must always oblige.”

“Music!” Sapphire clapped her hands. The orchestra began tuning and couples filled the floor. Ned led Florence to the centre.

“Remember, keep looking at me and all will be well,” he murmured as he took her in his arms.

She did and it was.

They moved in perfect harmony, as if their bodies had been made for each other. Florence felt herself melting into him with every step, a feeling of pure bliss washing over her that transcended all the shock of the evening. They passed Cordelia and Twemlow who watched them closely. When the dance ended, they stayed in each other’s arms, eyes locked together, until the conversations around them died away and her concerns flooded back. Not for the fear of any scandal, but for what she would have to say to her father and family.

“Thank you,” Ned murmured.

He escorted her to the edge of the dance floor where her family were waiting. Taking both of her hands in his, he looked deep into her eyes, dipping his head so that she alone could hear his words.

“I will come to you tomorrow morning and explain what I can.”

“There’s a tea room on the corner of Bryant Park and Sixth Avenue. I’ll be waiting at ten,” she said, trying to sound calm.

Tomorrow would bring a reckoning that she didn’t know how she would endure.

Ned turned away and walked across the room, whereupon he was immediately swallowed up by a throng of women, including some matrons but many closer to Florence’s age. She caught a glimpse of him dancing shortly afterwards with a tall beauty Florence didn’t recognise and the throb of jealousy in her heart almost made her stagger. There must be ten or twenty young women in search of a husband who would positively devour Ned, many wealthy, most accomplished and clever. And none who had not made it abundantly clear to Ned that the last man on earth they would marry was an earl.

* * *

Ned barely slept. He lapsed in and out of consciousness but was already awake when the dawn chorus started its futile attempt to be heard over the sound of early morning delivery carts and horse-drawn trolleys.