High Society novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Waltz Lessons

"He will tell the Earl by breakfast," I said.

We were in the coach, going back through the wet dark toward Mayfair, with Tilly asleep on the opposite seat with her mouth open.

"Then the Earl will have a pleasant morning," said Hugh.

"I sent my head groom to Mill Court with two men before we left the house."

"They will sit under that arch until the Season is over."

"Nobody will serve a notice on it while they are there."

"You did not ask me."

"No."

"Good," I said, and was surprised to find I meant it.

We were quiet for a time.

The wheels hissed in the puddles, and a lamp went by outside and lit his scar, and then the dark came back.

"They lied for me," I said.

I was laughing, and then, without any warning, I was not laughing at all.

I put my hand over my face.

"They didn't have to do that," I said.

"They'd have lost their roofs if he'd believed it."

"I know."

His voice was gentle.

"You have a remarkable street, Effie."

"It's not a street."

"It's a court."

"It's mine."

He said nothing.

His hand moved across the seat and rested on the leather beside mine, not touching it.

I looked at it for the rest of the ride.

The Dowager was waiting up in the hall with a candle.

"Thursday," she said, before I could take off my shawl.

"The Countess opens the Season with her ball, and the Duke's sister will be presented."

"The Earl will be there."

"The whole of London will be there."

"I can't waltz," I said.

"I know you can't."

"Hugh will teach you."

"Grandmother."

"It is a quarter past one in the morning, the ballroom is empty, and there is a very good fiddler asleep in the servants' hall."

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