What a Spinster Wants Read online

Edith nearly laughed, as all the rest looked at Amelia in shock.

  “I knew I liked you, Amelia Perry,” Charlotte stated with a broad smile. “Edith has to answer the question now, as you are far more likable than myself. She will not disappoint you.”

  Izzy cleared her throat, looking around. “Perhaps we should adjourn to a more private room? This is not exactly a conversation for a corridor.”

  As one, the group moved to the nearest available private space, the library.

  Within its walls, Edith could only think of Graham. Of his kisses, of his scent, of his embrace…

  And now she had to speak of him to her friends. By way of explanation, if nothing else.

  But what to share? Graham had given her no indication of his intentions or of his feelings. He had said nothing of the sort, but she could easily sense an admiration and a degree of desire, but should it be called love on his part?

  She did not dare to hope.

  But she had to tell them something, so she told them all, apart from her feelings, and was very cautious regarding Molly. Despite her attachment, the girl was not her child, and it was not her story to tell.

  The general outcry was as she had expected.

  “You have tamed the earl,” Charlotte crowed, clapping her hands.

  Georgie rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, for heaven’s sake, do try to show some decorum.”

  “I knew it,” Amelia breathed, collapsing against the nearest chair. “I knew there was something between you. I knew he could not look at you so for nothing.”

  “I dare not assume…” Edith protested as she shook her head. “That is, he hasna said…”

  Grace reached out and put a hand on hers. “Of course, he’s said. You’re only thinking of words, Edith.”

  She stared at Grace in shock, words failing her. Had he shown her? Had she missed it?

  “Aubrey told me something last night,” Grace went on, still smiling. “He said he is coming to know Radcliffe rather well throughout this party, as well as in caring for you in London. I think, based on what he said, that you can be assured of feelings on Radcliffe’s part, that those feelings are stronger than what he can express, and that you need only be patient.” Her smile spread, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “He will make it perfectly plain.”

  Edith felt her heart pound with a fervency that stole her breath, spreading warmth throughout her body with every beat. Emotions swirled and built within her, near to choking her as the truth made itself known.

  “I love him,” Edith confessed breathlessly, tears clogging her throat and filling her eyes.

  Grace grinned and leaned back. “I know, Edith. I can see it. We all can, and we see the way he looks at you, as well.”

  “Indeed,” Georgie agreed. “And I, for one, think you are in very great danger.”

  “Danger?” Edith cried with a laugh. “How can I be in danger from Graham?”

  Georgie quirked a brow at the use of his given name and smirked. “The best kind of danger, my dear. The very best.”

  Again came the sound of the gong, and Charlotte clapped her hands. “Excellent. Time to dress for the ball, and to see just what sort of display Radcliffe will have for our dear Edith.”

  “Charlotte!” Izzy scolded, eyes wide.

  Edith could only laugh. She wondered the same thing.

  Only an hour later, wreathed in shades of lavender, in fabric too fine for her finances, Edith made her way down the stairs, her fingers grazing the railing in her borrowed and pristine gloves. She had spent too long at the looking glass, fussing over attempted perfection, wanting to be more than she had ever managed to be in her life.

  Hoping he saw beauty where she saw flaws.

  Had her hair curled as well as she’d wished? Were the ribbons and pearl combs going to improve her looks or take away from them? Did the shade of her gown complement her eyes?

  Did any of this matter?

  It was all a distraction, this fussing and preening. Graham had seen her with her hair tossed and down, windblown while on horseback, and he’d kissed her then. He had seen her in a plain day dress, hair in a simple chignon, and he had kissed her with passion.

  He had held her in his arms without seeing what she was wearing and kissed her hair all the while.

  Nèamh pray he might love her half as much as she loved him.

  Heart thudding in her throat, Edith made her way to the ballroom, smiling as she caught sight of others milling about, the music not having begun. What in the world could anybody be waiting for?

  There was as much glory in the ballroom as there had been the first ball of the party, but somehow, more magic. Every lady was dressed in somehow finer gowns than before, and every gentleman looked pristine in stark eveningwear. Candles were everywhere, and the gold detailing of the ceiling and walls positively sparkled.

  It was enough to make one breathless in mere appreciation.

  Edith looked around for something else she wished to appreciate, more specifically someone, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was the host, so he would be in attendance soon, and in the meantime, she could settle her nerves with her friends.

  She smiled at other guests as she moved to Charlotte and Grace, both of whom praised her appearance enough to settle her.

  Amelia looked forlorn as she stood apart from them, her attention on her gloves, though the rose-colored gown did lend her cheeks more color than they had in them naturally. Edith sighed as she watched her friend, noticing that she brightened the moment someone spoke to her, in an attempt to disguise her hurt. Somehow, it seemed wrong to be so full of hope, love, and joy when Amelia was feeling the loss of them.

  Grace and Charlotte suddenly grew silent, their eyes widening.

  Edith frowned at them. “What is it?”

  Charlotte clamped down on her lips, giggling softly, and indicated Edith turn around.

  Edith did so, her breath catching, heart pounding. As she had hoped, Graham stood there, more elegant, refined, and handsome than any other man in heaven or on earth. His eyes raked slowly down the length of her, then back up, and anyone looking at him would know his regard for Edith.

  There was no mistaking it now.

  He bowed, holding out his hand, and murmured, “Will you take the waltz with me, Lady Edith?”

  A few people nearby gasped, no doubt from his suggesting the waltz, and others that he would open the ball with her, of all ladies.

  Edith could have professed her love for him then and there, but for the sudden impulse to tease him.

  She tilted her head in an almost coy fashion. “A waltz, my lord? Do ye no’ find the waltz rather distasteful?”

  Grace snickered next to her, and Amelia grinned beside her.

  Graham, however, continued to look only at Edith, his hand still outstretched. “I do, Lady Edith, under usual circumstances. But it is my personal opinion that the right sort of partner could make the waltz a glorious thing. If I am proven right in this, I shall have no qualms about dancing every waltz at every event with that precise partner.”

  More gasps echoed, and Edith’s cheeks flamed in embarrassed pleasure. It was nearly a proposal, and there was no mistaking it.

  Her knees quivered, but she had promised to tease him, and she aimed to do so. “And you are under the impression that I could be such a partner for you, my lord?” she inquired, unable to keep the smile from her face.

  His mouth curved into a dangerous half-smile. “I am quite assured of your suitability, Lady Edith. I will have no other. Now, will you waltz with me?”

  Heart fluttering, Edith put her hand in his and let him lead her out into the middle of the room.

  “Now, Edith,” he murmured as he took her waist in hand, raising their arms over their heads, “we will waltz.” He paused, tilting his head from side to side. “Again,” he added.

  “Without me pushing you,” she reminded him as she placed her hand on his back, her fingers rubbing the fabric.

  Graham smiled at her and dipp
ed just a bit closer. “Yet you did render me without words once more. A pattern, I think, is being established.” He exhaled softly, shaking his head as the music began. “A full waltz with you, Edith. I can think of nothing so close to perfection.”

  Edith sighed and was swept into the movements of the waltz, Graham’s steps sure and his hold strong. She couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes, couldn’t believe she had lived any moment before this.

  He smiled then, as if he knew something amusing that she did not.

  “Tell us your secrets, then,” Edith encouraged, delighted by such a smile.

  “I was thinking,” he mused in a low voice, “that I just might find myself becoming a dancer after this.”

  Edith laughed at the image that presented. “Graham, why have you only ever danced with two other women before me? You do it so well.”

  He seemed to shrug as they turned in a great swell with the music. “I never found any other reason to. If I was to make a fool of myself, it had better have been worth my while.”

  “And this is?” she asked with an impertinent tilt to her head.

  The look he gave her was a kiss in and of itself. “I don’t know that anything has ever been more worth my while than this.”

  Edith bit down on her lip to hold back a whimper of the most pleasant distress, longing to fly away from this room and these people, to just be with him and no one else.

  Graham’s eyes drifted down to the exact place where her lip puckered beneath her teeth. When they returned to her eyes, the intensity pulled her closer to him, the hand at her waist sliding further around, anchoring her there as much as any dance could allow.

  She’d have gone closer if she could have.

  And then, far too quickly, the waltz was finished, and the respectability of their proximity could not last.

  “Graham…” Edith whispered as their hands lowered, fingers lacing.

  He brought her hand to his lips, lingering in a manner that made Edith shiver. “Save me the supper set, sweetheart. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

  “You can have them all, mo chridhe,” Edith breathed, knowing he wouldn’t understand the endearment, but needing to say it.

  As if he knew, he kissed her hand again, before returning her to Grace and Charlotte, neither of whom had words for her, though both took her hands.

  The ball proceeded another hour or so without much fuss, Edith dancing with Henshaw, Aubrey, Tony, Francis, and Sebastian. Graham danced with her friends as well, but nothing made Edith happier than watching him dance with Amelia. She smiled more brightly than Edith had seen her do in months, and Graham was doing it for her.

  If Edith hadn’t loved him before, she certainly did now.

  Suddenly, there was a ruckus at the front of the ballroom, disrupting the music and the dance. Edith grabbed Georgie’s arm, fearing the worst for herself, and for Graham.

  Then, through the crowd, came a man dressed too casually for a ball, breathing as if he were desperately winded, and his eyes scanned the entire company eagerly.

  As soon as Edith could see his face, she gasped and released Georgie’s arm, turning to her other side, where Amelia had gone very still, her eyes wide.

  “Amelia?” she asked gently, very concerned that she would swoon.

  Graham came to them as well, though he bore a small smile on his face.

  The man’s eyes suddenly caught Amelia, and he froze as completely as if he had been a statue.

  Amelia ignored them both. “Edmund.”

  Mr. Andrews looked her up and down without shame, his generally reserved countenance gone in the face of agony and ecstasy. He swallowed once, and then marched towards her just as her feet carried her forward. They clasped each other tightly, Amelia sobbing against his shoulder, and he clutching her to him as if nothing in heaven or on earth would ever take her from him.

  There was no helping the tears streaming down Edith’s cheeks as she witnessed their reunion, the love between them palpable as well as visible.

  Graham wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her neck softly, holding her close.

  “You did this?” she whispered, running a hand over the arms that held her.

  He rested his head against hers. “I received a fascinating letter only yesterday, inquiring as to whether Amelia Perry might be in attendance, and if one Edmund Andrews might be admitted to see her. I replied in the affirmative, and Ingram related the whole situation to me.”

  “Tell me,” Edith murmured.

  Graham chuckled softly. “As it happens, Andrews has been working for the government. His latest assignment was in Portugal, and he fell into a spot of trouble, which is why he stopped writing to Amelia. Vale and Ingram discovered this while working with Chadwick on your particular matters, and the three of them were able to get him back. As I understand it, he came straight here after giving his report and seeing his duty fulfilled. His biggest concern was that Amelia had thought him indifferent and uncaring, when quite the opposite is true, as you can see.”

  Edith nodded and leaned back against him while they had this moment.

  Graham kissed her again, this time at her ear, very softly. “I’d hold you the same way in this company if they were not already doing so. You are too beautiful, too lovely to resist. It is only the promise of sitting next to you at supper that is keeping me from stealing away with you right this minute.”

  Her eyes fluttered, and she pulled his arms more tightly about her. “I’d go,” she admitted without shame. “I’d fly away wi’ ye, Graham, and ne’er look back.”

  He groaned, his lips still at her ear, scorching the tender flesh. “Don’t tell me that. How can I be respectable now?”

  Edith laughed breathlessly. “Dinna fash. I ken ye’ll think of something.” She cocked her head as she watched Andrews and Amelia whisper together, all eyes still on them. “Graham, surely there is somewhere they can be alone…”

  “Unchaperoned?” he teased, nuzzling her a little. “Perhaps you are right. Pardon me, darling, while I tend to my hosting duties.” He kissed her again before clearing his throat and striding over to the still embracing couple.

  He spoke to them softly, and then turned to the gathering with a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, our newest and most honored guest, Mr. Andrews, has something he would like to say.” He gestured for Andrews to do so.

  Mr. Andrews turned to Amelia with a breathless, wild grin and said, for all to hear, “Amelia Perry, I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and only more ever since. I have waited too long to ask, but will you forgive me and be my wife?”

  Tears still streaming down her cheeks, she took the hand she still held and kissed it fervently. “Yes, Edmund. Yes, yes, yes.”

  Andrews swept her up again, kissing her soundly, and the ballroom as a whole cheered and applauded, several ladies wiping tears from their eyes.

  Graham gave them a moment, then winked at Edith as he turned and escorted them from the room.

  The music struck up again, and the dancing resumed. Edith, for one, thought her heart might burst from her chest, so filled to the brim was it.

  A hand settled on her arm, and she turned to see Miranda smiling at her, eyes moist. “You’ll be next, my lamb. I feel sure of it.”

  Edith exhaled a satisfied sigh. “Ye think so?”

  Miranda nodded once. “And so do you, Edith. Mark my words, the next few days will be quite interesting.” She gave Edith a knowing look and moved to speak with Georgie and Izzy.

  Edith looked at the door to the ballroom where Graham had disappeared, smiling in anticipation.

  They had the rest of the evening together, and, if she got her wish, the rest of their lives, as well.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alterations to any plans one has made can be a disruption that, in one stroke, may throw all into upheaval. It should be avoided at any cost, if possible. If not possible, one should attempt to make the best of it. Again, if at all possible. Which it may
not be.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 4 January 1819

  “Gray said the ball was really nice. He said you looked beautiful, and that you danced a lot, and that supper was the best one Cook has done yet.”

  Edith smiled and watched the girl fiddle with wildflowers in front of her, sun in her hair. “It was lovely. I could barely dance at all after supper, the food was so delicious. I was fair to bursting, but I just couldna keep myself from completely stuffing my gob.”

  Molly giggled and glanced up at her. “Scottish is funny, Edith.”

  “Aye, a wee bit,” Edith admitted with a wink. “But it’s a bonny language, lass.”

  “And you’re a bonny lady, mo charaid,” Molly told her, beaming proudly.

  Edith ruffled the girl’s dark curls before kissing her head. “Tapadh leat, lass. It warms my heart to hear you call me friend in my own tongue.”

  “Teach me more words!” Molly exclaimed, clapping her hands.

  Laughing, Edith nodded. “Verra well. When you want to say ‘cheers’, you say, ‘slàinte’.”

  Molly repeated the word firmly, then tipped back an imaginary glass of something or other.

  “Slàinte,” Edith repeated, doing the same.

  “What else?” Molly demanded as she turned towards Edith, flapping the skirts of her pale blue calico before settling her hands in her lap. “Tell me something I can tell Gray.”

  Edith thought about it for a moment, then said, “Teaghlach. It means family.”

  Molly tried the word, but fumbled around it, making herself giggle. “My family is strange,” the girl admitted. “Aunt Ellie is my great-aunt, but she’s not that old. Gray is not my papa, but he sometimes acts like he is. I don’t have my mama or papa anymore…” She looked down at her fingers, the short, uneven nails tinged green from her toying with flower stems. “I barely remember them now.”

  “That canna be easy for ye,” Edith murmured softly. “I havnae seen my mother or father in years, and sometimes I miss them very much. Is there a portrait of them in the gallery?”

  “Yes. I go there sometimes to remember what Mama looked like.” Molly shrugged her slight shoulders, still looking down. “But it’s not the same. I miss having a mama here with me.”