Inside, life continued as it always had. Dancers filled the floor, and guests ringed around them, chatting and saying witty or dull things. She felt herself full to bursting with her plans to go to the village, but she couldn’t let anyone know. The secret belonged to her and Sebastian.
“There you are, my dear,” her mother said, nearing. “I couldn’t find you after your dance with Mr. Fredericks.”
“I required a little air,” Grace said.
From the corner of her eye, she caught movement by the French doors. She feigned interest in the ornamental plasterwork surrounding them, enabling her to see Sebastian as he reentered the ballroom.
Giddiness rose up within her on a tide of champagne bubbles.
He didn’t look in her direction—a disappointment, but she understood his rationale—as he walked to the Duke of Rotherby. Sebastian murmured something to his friend, who nodded in response, before he slipped from the ballroom.
The plan was in motion.
She barely heard her mother as she talked of the gossip heard at the ball. Grace made herself nod and look attentive while time inched by. Sebastian needed a head start, since they could not be seen leaving the ball together, yet she felt each minute like the slow progress of moss growing on a stone wall.
After she’d counted a full five minutes, she made certain that her mother noticed her wincing.
“Are you well, child?” Her mother frowned worriedly.
“I must own that my head aches.” She made herself look regretful. “Much as it pains me to leave, my head hurts me more. I believe I’ll go home for a nice lie down.”
“I’ll accompany you.” Her mother stroked a hand across her forehead.
“Oh, no,” Grace said quickly. “I’d hate for you to miss the rest of this delightful ball.”
“Take the carriage,” her mother said. “Viscount Marwood said his carriages were at his guests’ disposal. Go straight to bed and if your head is too sore, tell Katie to mix you a tincture of laudanum.”
“I will.” Grace inwardly winced in guilt at deceiving her mother, but the lure to slip off with Sebastian to have a friendly adventure was far too enticing to refuse. “Please tell Lord and Lady Marwood goodbye for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before she could think better of it, she hurried away, though she was conscious of keeping her step light and expression slightly pained as would befit someone suffering from a headache.
The ball ceased to exist for her as she went down the stairs, its music and laughter fading with each step. When she reached the foyer, where more guests were arriving, she collected her wrap from a footman. A tremor of excitement made her hands shake as she adjusted the silk’s folds around her shoulders.
“Please have my carriage brought out front.” How calm she sounded.
“Yes, my lady.”
Moments later, the family carriage pulled up to the curb outside. She strode to it, hardly able to believe what she was about to do. Yet the lure Sebastian had offered was too good to resist.
“Home, my lady? And shall I wait for your mother?”
“Dennis,” she said to the coachman, “do come down here for a moment.”
Too well-trained to look puzzled, the driver secured the reins before clambering from his seat to stand before her. The footman had already alit from his perch behind the carriage, so both servants regarded her with professional expectancy.
“My mother will find her own way home,” she said in a low voice. “What I’m asking of you now, it can never be revealed to anyone. Especially my parents. I promise you,” she added urgently, “your silence will see you handsomely rewarded. Can I rely on you?”
No going back now.
The footman and coachman said together, “Yes, my lady.”
“Very good. Take me to the north side of Hanover Square. We’ll wait there until I give additional direction. We must leave now.”
Wordlessly, the footman opened the door to the carriage. With her blood rushing in her ears, she climbed in. The door shut with a click.
The vehicle swayed as both servants climbed back onto their seats. There was a slight jolt, a sway forward, and then they were off.
It would be something to share with Sebastian, this trip to the village. Something that might turn the hourglass back to who and what they were before everything changed. She hoped—but a grain of doubt lodged itself in the furthest corner of her heart.