Josh started towards the front door but stopped before he reached the steps. There was a little pathway by the side of the house, no doubt leading to the back garden, and he could see the gate was very slightly ajar. Quickly he changed course and headed down the path, pushing open the gate and making his way into the garden. The music was louder here and as he rounded the corner of the house he could see the terrace filled with guests and the open doors to the ballroom. People seemed to be enjoying themselves—there was laughter mixed in with conversation and he could see the rhythmic movement of couples dancing inside.
The garden was large, as befitted a property like Millbrook House, and from what he could see of the interior it was richly decorated. From the letters that crossed the ocean every few months he knew his brother had bought Millbrook House a few years earlier, wanting something of his own in London even though he much preferred the countryside. By the size and grandeur of the house it would seem Leo was doing very well for himself.
‘Good for you, Leo,’ he murmured. Never once had he begrudged his brother his good fortune, never once had he wanted to change places. Leo might have been raised by the relatives with the money and status, but Josh’s upbringing had been filled with love and adventure and he knew you couldn’t put a price on that.
He’d almost seen enough. Tomorrow he would return and enjoy his reunion with his brother, but tonight he would go back to his rented rooms and leave Leo to his ball and his guests.
As he turned he tripped over something sticking up from the grass in the darkness, stumbling slightly and feeling a jolt of pain shoot through his ankle. He managed to catch himself, cursing quietly as he regained his balance. He limped over to a nearby bench, bending down to massage his ankle. Thankfully it hadn’t even been a proper twist, a couple of minutes’ rest and it would be more or less back to normal, perhaps with just a little twinge here and there.
He sat back, stretching his legs out in front of him and looking up at the starry sky.
‘Oh.’ Beth heard the exclamation escape her lips before she could stop it. She’d spotted a bench to the left of the garden, hidden from view of the terrace, and made her way over only to find it already occupied.
‘Good evening.’
She peered through the darkness, her eyes still not completely adjusted after leaving the bright light of the ballroom. It was Mr Ashburton. She just about managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course he would be here, the very man she had decided to actively avoid for a few minutes and he was sitting in her refuge.
‘Good evening,’ she said, standing awkwardly, not knowing whether to join him on the bench or turn and head back towards the house.
She looked at him. She couldn’t profess to know him well but there was something different about him tonight. Normally he held himself so stiff, so upright, but here he was lounging on the bench in the most relaxed manner. He even looked up and smiled at her.
‘Won’t you join me?’
She glanced uncertainly over her shoulder. Her mother might have encouraged her to spend time with Mr Ashburton, but even she would balk at the idea of being alone with him in the darkness of the garden. Anyone might have a similar idea to her, wanting to escape the crush of the ball for a few minutes, and come upon them.
Still...there was something about the way he was smiling at her that was making her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Before she could talk herself out of it she circled around him and perched on the other end of the bench.
‘It’s a wonderful ball,’ she said, falling back on mundane conversation to carry her through until her nerves settled at least a little.
‘Is it? I’m glad.’
‘You haven’t seen for yourself?’
He shook his head and Beth wondered if it would be rude to ask why he would throw a ball and then hide out here in the garden. Perhaps he’d just received some bad news or he was developing a headache. Perhaps...she shook her head to stop her imagination running away with her and focussed again on the man next to her.
‘I can hear though. The music, the laughter, it certainly sounds like a success.’
Beth tilted her head to one side and listened to the sounds of the ball for a moment, catching Mr Ashburton watching her with those sharp eyes of his.
‘It does, doesn’t it?’ she agreed.
‘Surely if it is such a success you should be in there dancing, Miss...’
Beth blinked. He couldn’t have forgotten who she was. They’d been introduced, admittedly a year ago now, but surely he remembered the woman he had promised to marry.
She swallowed the indignant outburst and smiled at him stiffly. ‘Lady Elizabeth.’
‘Lady Elizabeth.’ There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition in his expression.
For a moment she closed her eyes. What if her mother had got it all wrong? Lady Hummingford was convinced Mr Ashburton had all but agreed to marry Beth before their father had died five years earlier. Lord Hummingford had spoken of some debt owed, a service he had provided Mr Ashburton, and the promised outcome had been that Beth would marry the wealthy and successful young man if she wanted. In her parents’ minds it hadn’t been an engagement, but it hadn’t been far off. The whole point of this season, all the money they’d spent renting rooms they couldn’t afford and buying dresses on rapidly reducing credit, was to remind Mr Ashburton of his promise and persuade him there was no benefit in waiting any longer.
‘I needed a little air, a little space to think.’
‘And where better to do
