“I am not certain whether or not this is our dance, Lady Callander,” he said, “but might you step out with me regardless?” He held out one hand to her and with a smile, Lady Callander placed her own in his.
“I would like that very much,” she told him, leaving Lady Madeline watching them both — and Lord Chesterfield also — from the edge of the ballroom.
“He has glanced at us both,” Lady Callander murmured, as she curtsied, “but is reading the note repeatedly. Oh!” She stepped forward into the beginnings of the dance, her hand pressed to his as they moved around in a circle.
“He is dancing,” Sebastian muttered, seeing the gentleman as they circled the other way. “Perhaps he is not about to —”
“Let us simply enjoy the dance,” Lady Callander replied, looking up into his face as they stepped forward and then back again. “And thereafter, see what Lord Chesterfield does.”
Sebastian nodded, smiling calmly at her as they continued the dance, finding himself relaxing into it as he shared it with Lady Callander. He had not often danced with her and found himself almost desperate to take her into his arms. Finally, as the last part of the dance came to fruition, he was able to place one hand about her waist, the other holding her hand tightly, swinging her about as the music swirled around them, making him smile with delight.
“Oh!” Lady Callander’s eyes flared and he instinctively looked down, thinking he had stood on her foot or some such thing, only for her to squeeze his hand, his head lifting at once. “Yes?”
“He has left the dance floor early,” Lady Callander breathed, as they stepped back into their first positions, one hand outstretched towards his, their palms pressed together as they turned first to the right and then to the left. “The lady he was dancing with looked greatly concerned.”
Sebastian felt a great swell of satisfaction rising up within him. “Then it is as we hoped,” he told her, as she looked up at him. “Lord Chesterfield has been caught by the note from Madame Bereford and will soon be making his way there.”
Lady Callander drew in a long breath, just as he took her in his arms again. “Then we must soon take our leave,” she said, softly, as he nodded. “I feel both excitement and anxiety, I confess.”
“As do I,” he admitted, truthfully. “But he will not be able to hide the truth from us now. We will know it all, Lady Callander, and then the fog of confusion and darkness that has kept us bound for these last few days will release us and disperse entirely.” He smiled at her, stepping back and bowing low as the music came to an end. “Shall we depart?” Rising from his bow, he offered her his arm which she took at once.
“Yes,” she murmured, as he saw Lady Madeline standing by the side of the room, her eyes wide as she shifted from foot to foot, her gown swishing this way and that. “It appears that Lady Madeline has noticed Lord Chesterfield’s departure also!”
He chuckled, feeling his anticipation about what would soon occur beginning to rise up within him. “Indeed,” he agreed, with a smile. “As I am sure have the others from the League.” He reached across and settled his hand over hers as it rested on his arm. “Come tomorrow, it will be as though we have stepped into a brand new day and I, for one, am greatly looking forward to such a thing.”
“As am I,” Lady Callander replied, softly, just as they reached Lady Madeline. “As am I, Lord Millerton.”
The streets and alleyways of London were very different in the darkness of the night, Sebastian had to admit. They had taken his carriage a short distance, but then had alighted and hailed a hackney, for he had been quite certain that taking a hackney to Madame Bereford’s establishment would be wiser than taking his beautiful carriage.
Now, they sat in silence as the hackney rolled along the dark streets, seeing the figures running this way and that, a faint glow of a fire coming from one end of the street. This was the darker part of London, the place where all manner of things took place. Hateful, vulgar things that Sebastian would naturally have kept well away from. He could tell by the wide-eyed look of Lady Madeline that she had never before been in such a place, for her breathing was quick and her gaze darted from here to there as her fingers twisted together in her lap. Lady Callander, on the other hand, was not even looking out of the window. Instead, she sat quietly across from him, her hands in her lap but without any tightness or strain present. Her eyes lowered, her breathing steady. The dim light from the fire and dull lanterns outside allowed the shadows to flicker across her features, and even as he watched her, Sebastian felt his heart fill with an even deeper affection than before.
An affection that spoke of love. Love that would not be pushed away, nor kept hidden. Love that would demand that he take Lady Callander as his wife, so that he could always have her by his side, so that he could provide her with the home and perhaps the family that she might wish for. Their first meeting had been so very awkward, but once he had pushed through that, once he had found himself back in her company, conversing and smiling as she did so, he had discovered that ease of manner that had been there before. She had always been so kind and compassionate, and yet had such a strength of will that he found himself admiring her.
“I think we have arrived.”
Plucked from his thoughts, Sebastian looked out of the window, finding a lantern with a small candle flickering within it standing next to a small sign that read ‘Madame’s House’. He grimaced. He had seen it when he had come here with Lord Hearst and had felt his stomach twist at the sight. It was not a house, not a home. It was a sordid business and one that he would look forward to bringing to a close if he could.
“Quietly now.”
He climbed out first, looking all about him for a moment, before reaching up to take the hand of Lady Madeline and thereafter, Lady Callander. Lady Callander did not let go of his hand but rather held onto it as they moved towards the door, which was flanked by two rather large looking gentlemen.
Sebastian cleared his throat, his brow furrowing. He could not make them out in the darkness but knew that they had not been present before when he had first come here.
“Good evening,” he said, as quietly as he could. “I come in search of Madame Bereford.”
A small chuckle left the throat of one of the men and Sebastian frowned.
“We had to dispose of the two guards, Lord Millerton,” said the first man, making Sebastian’s brows lift in surprise, his laughter ragged as it escaped from him as he recognized the voice of Lord Hearst.
“You did not recognize us, then?” Lord Hearst continued, stepping forward to slap Sebastian on the back. “That is good. Lord Chesterfield did not notice us either.”
Immediately, the smile faded from Sebastian’s face as he looked at his friend steadily, trying to make out his features in the dim light. “Then he has gone inside?”
“He has,” Lord Windsor replied, stepping away from his post as the second guard. “He did not so much as look at us. In fact, he appeared very anxious indeed.”
Sebastian nodded, turning to see a few others moving out of the shadows towards them. His heart lifted. This was what it meant to be a part of the League. To have the other gentlemen ready to help, to step forward, to be present when it was required of them. “Then it is time,” he said, firmly. “Lord Hearst, Lord Windsor and Lord Lexington. If you would come in with me, then I would ask the others to remain at every door and window, ready to ensure that Lord Chesterfield nor Madame Bereford can make their escape.”
There was a murmur of acknowledgement, only for Lady Callander to clear her throat loudly. When he looked at her, she lifted her hands.