Page 97 of Waking Roslyn

He studied me, nodded, dropped his eyes, and swallowed before lifting his face to look at me again. “I’m sorry for the hurt I caused.”

“Thank you for the apology,” I said, knowing it would never make up for the damage he had caused.

“I meant it, and I hope you at least believe that I do not hate you now.”

“Perhaps,” I said, forcing my tone to remain neutral. I preferred that he stay unbalanced around me, and if vagueness could accomplish that, then so be it.

He held my gaze, but when I said nothing further, he relaxed. “And who knows.” He smiled and stepped close, dropping his voice so only I could hear. “Perhaps we will learn to do more than just tolerate each other in the future.”

My eyes widened, but he immediately walked away before I could form a coherent thought, much less a coherent response. I was frozen and stunned. Had Everett just…flirted with me? Was he so changed that he found something in me to like, even after a childhood filled with animosity? Unthinkable.

It wasn’t until someone jostled past me that I shook off my shock. I left the refreshments behind, the goblet still in my hand as I sought a less crowded corner of the ballroom. I could sense John’s presence as he trailed behind me, ever at hand.

I found a space tucked beside the raised dais of the king’s and queen’s thrones. It was far from the dancing, and now that the little prince had been taken to bed and the king and queen were mingling, the area was largely unoccupied. Large urns with overflowing foliage sat on either side of it. I stood beside one such urn, taking a sip of my wine as I looked out on the crowd and tried not to appear as off-kilter as I felt. My instinct was to shrink, but I needed to be serene. Confident, calm and always in control.

John took up position a couple paces behind me, his back to the wall. I turned to the side so that I could see both the dancing and him in my periphery.

After several moments, he spoke up. “That was a curious conversation.”

I resisted the urge to turn and look at him directly. “Curious how?” I knew why I had found it curious, but what was John’s opinion of it, and how much had he heard?

“You used to like the way that weasel smelled?”

I couldn’t resist the small smile that tugged on my lips. “You know I enjoy all kinds of scents.”

“Yes, indeed. It just hadn’t occurred to me that some of those scents would be attached to an eligible gentleman.”

“He was only a boy at the time, and he made my young life miserable,” I reminded him.

“You do not look miserable now.”

I turned to face him, not caring how it looked, only needing to know what he meant by that.

He moved his hand in the tiniest of placating gestures. “And I’m grateful for that. I have no wish to see you tormented. I just…” He shifted his weight.

My brow rose. “Are you…jealous?”

He huffed a breath and then shrugged, moving close enough that he was almost standing next to me, but not quite. He looked out at the crowd and swallowed. “Yes. Yes, I am,” he admitted.

I’d never seen him look so humbled, except perhaps when Gretchen had called him a show-off.

I allowed my own gaze to return to the dancers and lifted my goblet to my lips. “Good,” I murmured before taking a sip.

He bent his head and lowered his voice. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

I shook my head but suppressed a smile. “Of course not. I’m not that devious.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

I kept my eyes on the dancers. “Because jealousy indicates more than just a passing interest.”

He moved infinitesimally closer so that his arm brushed the sleeve of my gown. “I would have thought there were a great many things I’ve done that indicated more than just a passing interest.”

I looked over my shoulder at him as I thought of our time in the shed. The first dance we’d shared. The birthday kiss. The secret passageway. Everything. I wanted more of it.

His nostrils flared, then he pulled his eyes away from mine. “I’d love to show you what I mean, but since we are in a crowded ballroom with many curious onlookers, I will keep my distance.” He stepped back, nearly to the wall, and I felt the loss keenly.

This was why I had fallen in love with Bridgefield. This was why I did not like having to play by society’s rules. I could turn myself into a very pretty picture here, but I couldn’t be myself.