Page 76 of Appointment in Bath

It wasn’t until after Meg danced with Ivo’s younger brother, Jack, that she was once again permitted to dance with Ivo. Lady Allendale was at the pianoforte this time, playing another march.

“Is this enough merriment for you?” Ivo asked. They clasped hands, turning together for a full circle.

“Yes. Very merry.” She kept a smile affixed to her face as they returned to their places. It seemed to be frozen there. Her cheeks were beginning to ache.

“I know it was a trifle awkward at first, but…” A brief shadow of doubt darkened Ivo’s brow, only to be dismissed. “Well, the point is, you’re here now and the worst is over. It had to happen one way or another.”

Meg didn’t reply.

She understood what he was doing now, though she hadn’t recognized it before. He was forcing the change he so believed in. Forcing her on his family, despite the position it put her in. He believed in progress that much, to the exclusion of everything else. It had blinded him to her feelings. To the very real mortification she must feel at being someplace where no one wanted her. Where no one valued her.

Signor Ruggiero had told her that Ivo had a weakness for the misfits of society. He offered his friendship and protection. Helped them to become their better selves. It wasn’t affection. It wasn’t romance. It was pity.

Ivo had promised Meg that that wasn’t what he was doing with her. But she knew better now. He was managing her right along with his family. Improving her life, though he must break her into a new shape in order to do it.

It was unkind. Unfeeling. And not the action of a gentleman who truly cared for her.

Did he think he was her patron? Her guardian angel? He was meant to be her friend. Indeed, in Meg’s heart of hearts, she’d believed he was meant to be more.

“What time is your coachman collecting you?” he asked when next they joined hands for a turn.

“I didn’t come in a coach,” she said numbly.

“Your servant, then.”

“I didn’t bring a servant.”

Ivo jerked his head to look at her. “I don’t perfectly understand—”

“I walked,” she said. “Just as you walked to Letchford Hall.”

They separated again.

He stared after her as she resumed her place in the line. When they met for another circular turn, he pressed her hands hard. “It’s snowing, Meg.”

“The snow has stopped.”

“It’s still freezing.”

“The exercise did me good. I hardly felt the chill.” Another lie. It was the only way to get through this wretched evening. An evening with no waltzes. No warmth. Nothing but hard, miserable truths she must face at last.

“I’m sending you home in a carriage,” he said.

“You are not.” She briefly locked eyes with him, her temper flaring with an alarming heat. “I will return to the Hall just as I left it—without causing remark.”

Which is exactly what she was going to do.

Never mind her heart. She had her dignity. Sometimes that was all a lady did have when everything else was gone. Meg was resolved to hold onto it like a threadbare cloak in a blizzard. The minute the next dance was over, as soon as she could creditably make her excuses, she was walking out the door of Beasley Park and she was never coming back.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ivo regretted nothing.

Why shouldn’t he have invited Meg to join his family for an evening of dancing and revelry? She was all of eighteen, a perfectly grown-up age, and she needed a bit of enjoyment in her life. Besides, their party had been short of a lady. And Meg wanted to dance with him, didn’t she?

Ivo had believed so. He’d certainly wanted to dance with her. And they had danced, though there had been precious little enjoyment in it for either of them. Indeed, upon Meg’s arrival in the drawing room, all the merriment had swiftly drained out of the evening.

It was his family’s fault, drat them.