Just Like Heaven

“Miss Royle, Lady Sarah.” He bowed to each in turn.

“What a surprise to see you here,” Honoria said.

“A surprise?'

“I had not thought—” She cut herself off, and her cheeks turned curiously pink. “It’s nothing,” she said, quite obviously lying. But he could not press her on it in so public a venue, so instead he said the staggeringly insightful and interesting, “It’s quite a crush this evening, wouldn’t you say?'

“Oh, yes,” the three ladies murmured, with varying degrees of volume. One of them might have even said, “Indeed.” There was a little lull, and then Honoria blurted, “Have you heard anything more from Daniel?'

“I have not,” he replied. “I hope this means that he has already begun his return journey.” “So then you don’t know when he will be back,” she said.

“No,” he replied. Curious. He would have thought that was clear from his previous statement.

“I see,” she said, and then she put on one of those I’m-smiling- because-I-have-nothing-to-say smiles. Which was even more curious.

“I’m sure you cannot wait for him to return,” she said, once several seconds had passed without anyone contributing to the conversation.

It was obvious there was a subtext to her statements, but he had no clue what it was. Certainly not his subtext, which was that he was waiting for her brother to return so that he might ask for his permission to marry her.

“I’m looking forward to seeing him, yes,” he murmured.

“As are we all,” Miss Royle said.

“Oh, yes,” chimed in Honoria’s heretofore silent cousin.

There was another long pause, then Marcus turned to Honoria and said, “I hope you will save me a dance.'

“Of course,” she said, and he thought she looked pleased, but he was finding it uncommonly difficult to read her this evening.

The other two ladies stood there, utterly still, eyes large and unblinking. It brought to mind a pair of ostriches, actually, and then Marcus realized what was expected of him. “I hope you will all three save dances for me,” he said politely.

Dance cards were immediately brought forth. A minuet was assigned to Miss Royle, a country dance for Lady Sarah, and for Honoria he claimed a waltz. Let gossipmongers do with it what they would. It wasn’t as if he’d never waltzed with her before.

Once the dances had been sorted out, they stood there again, a silent little quartet (all quartets should be so silent, Marcus thought), until Honoria’s cousin cleared her throat and said, “Actually, I think the dancing is beginning right now.” Which meant that it was time for the minuet.

Miss Royle looked over at him and beamed. Belatedly he remembered that her mother had a mind to pair the two of them up.

Honoria looked over at him as if to say—Be very afraid.

And all he could think was—Damn it, I never got one of those eclairs.

“He likes you,” Sarah said, the moment Marcus and Cecily headed off for their minuet.

“What?” Honoria asked. She had to blink. Her eyes had become unfocused from staring at Marcus’s back as he’d walked away.

“He likes you,” Sarah said.

“What are you talking about, of course he does. We have been friends forever.” Well, that was not quite true. They had known each other forever. They had become friends—true friends—quite recently.

“No, he likes you,” Sarah said, with great exaggeration.

“What?” Honoria said again, because clearly she’d been reduced to idiocy. “Oh. No. No, of course not.'

But still, her heart leapt.

Sarah shook her head slowly, as if coming to a realization even as she spoke. “Cecily told me she suspected it, back when the two of you went to check on him at Fensmore after he was caught out in the rain, but I thought she was imagining things.'

“You should pay attention to your first inclinations,” Honoria said briskly.

Sarah scoffed at that. “Didn’t you see the way he was staring at you?'

Honoria, practically begging to be contradicted, said, “He wasn’t staring at me.'

“Oh, yes he was,” Sarah countered. “Oh, and by the way, in case you were worried, I am not interested in him myself.'

Honoria could only blink.

“Back at the Royles’,” Sarah reminded her, “when I was pondering the possibility that he might fall rather quickly in love with me?'

“Oh, right,” Honoria recalled, trying not to notice how her stomach turned to acid at the thought of Marcus falling in love with someone else. She cleared her throat. “I’d forgotten.'

Sarah shrugged. “It was a desperate hope.” She looked out over the crowd, murmuring, “I wonder if there are any gentlemen here who might be willing to marry me before Wednesday.” “Sarah!'

“I’m joking. Good heavens, you should know that.” And then she said, “He’s looking at you again.'

“What?” Honoria actually jumped in surprise. “No, he can’t be.

He’s dancing with Cecily.” “He’s dancing with Cecily and looking at you,” Sarah replied, sounding rather satisfied with her assessment.

Honoria would have liked to have thought that that meant he cared, but after having read Daniel’s letter, she knew better. “It’s not because he cares for me,” she said, shaking her head.

“Really?” Sarah looked as if she might cross her arms. “Then what, pray tell, is it?'

Honoria swallowed, then looked furtively about. “Can you keep a secret?'

“Of course.'

“Daniel asked him to ‘watch over me’ while he is gone.'

Sarah was unimpressed. “Why is that a secret?” “It’s not, I suppose. Well, yes, it is. Because no one told me about it.'

“Then how do you know?'

Honoria felt her cheeks grow warm. “I might have read something I wasn’t meant to,” she muttered.

Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” she said, leaning in. “That is so unlike you.'

“It was a moment of weakness.'

“One you now regret?” Honoria thought about that for a moment. “No,” she admitted.

“Honoria Smythe-Smith,” Sarah said, positively grinning, “I am so proud of