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Her small effort seemed to make an impact, for Mr. Cantrell immediately cleared his throat and voiced another question. “How long have you known Mr. Ross?”
Hannah executed a few more steps, her thoughts spinning. Even though she had introduced Samuel as her father’s business associate, would their decision to have him join the family at Lady Telford’s ball be suspect if Mr. Cantrell knew how recently Samuel had started working with her father? It might make more sense if he believed that theirs was a well-established connection. “I first met him when I was but eleven years old,” she said.
Mr. Cantrell’s eyebrow rose. “Is that so? The gentleman must have been quite young himself.”
She took a few more steps. “Yes,” she said, “although I believe he is a few years older than I am.”
“Are you acquainted with his family situation?”
“Only that he once mentioned that he has no surviving family members,” Hannah said, taking another turn while desperately willing the music to come to an end. Mr. Cantrell may lack an open mind when it came to Hannah’s role in her father’s business, but he was an astute solicitor. If he questioned her about Samuel much longer, the thin ice upon which she was now standing might crack.
“I see.” Mr. Cantrell appeared to ponder that information.
And that moment of silence proved just long enough. The musicians played their last notes, and the dancers responded with the appropriate bows and curtsies.
All around them, couples were leaving the dance floor. Mr. Cantrell offered Hannah his arm. She took it. Samuel was no longer where she’d left him, but she had no desire to have Mr. Cantrell walk her to their prearranged meeting spot.
“My sister Sophia is standing beside Lord and Lady Bentley,” she said. “Perhaps we could join them.”
“Very well.” Mr. Cantrell veered toward the small group.
Hannah increased her pace, forcing the gentleman to do the same. They were within a few steps of her sister when Sophia noticed them.
Sophia must have recognized the silent plea for assistance in Hannah’s eyes because she said something to the Bentleys, dropped a small curtsy, and then stepped forward with a welcoming smile. “There you are at last, Hannah,” she said, waiting only until Hannah dropped her hand from Mr. Cantrell’s arm before claiming it herself. “Please excuse me for stealing Hannah for a few minutes, Mr. Cantrell. Mrs. Chesterfield has been asking to speak with her ever since we arrived.”
“Of course.” Mr. Cantrell bowed politely. “Always a pleasure, Miss Dennington.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cantrell,” Hannah said, barely managing a brief curtsy before Sophia pulled her away.
“Does Mrs. Chesterfield really wish to speak with me?” Hannah asked, her relief at being freed from Mr. Cantrell’s questioning vying with her dread of answering Mrs. Chesterfield’s.
“Probably,” Sophia said, guiding Hannah around a large urn with a determined step. “There is no doubt in my mind that she’s dying to know more about the handsome young man who accompanied you to the ball.” She shot Hannah a teasing look. “But luckily for you, I have not actually spoken to Mrs. Chesterfield this evening, and I am too fond of my older sister to offer her as a human sacrifice to feed the woman’s insatiable prattling.”
Hannah choked back a laugh. “You made up her request?”
“It was the best I could do at the spur of the moment.” She gave Hannah a querying look. “You did desire to be rescued, did you not?”
“Absolutely.” Hannah squeezed her sister’s hand gratefully. “And I cannot thank you enough for facilitating it.” She paused. “Would you mind terribly if I now abandon you to see to something else?”
“Something else or someone else?” Sophia asked knowingly.
Hannah could give her no details, but Sophia deserved her honesty. “Both.”
Sophia smiled and released her hand. “The last time I saw Mr. Ross, he was headed toward the french doors.”
“Thank you,” Hannah said.
Sophia nodded, her attention on something behind Hannah. “You’d best hurry,” she said. “They’ve already called for the next dance, and Mr. Porterhouse is heading this way with purpose in his steps.”
Hannah did not need a second warning. Slipping behind a cluster of young ladies who were watching the dancers with hope-filled eyes, she started around the room, studiously avoiding making eye contact with any gentleman who might yet be seeking a partner. The musicians started to play, and as the dance began behind her, Hannah reached the potted fern where Samuel was waiting.
“I was not sure that you would manage to cross the room without another gentleman inviting you to dance,” he said.
“It was a challenge,” she responded, “but I was determined.”
He mustered a small smile at her attempted jest. “It is easy to understand why you are so sought after.”
The hint of regret in his voice pricked at her heart. Would he ever see himself as she had come to see him? As being more than equal to the other finely dressed gentlemen in the room?
