She could.
He tried on a smile for her. It had been so long, but he made the valiant effort. Wrinkled his eyes and relaxed his lips into a soft curl.
“Look at that, it does exist.” Her gloved fingers lifted, as if she thought to touch his mouth, to test his attempt with her fingers.
Ultimately, she thought better of it.
“You are pale,” he pressed. “Are you certain you’re not ill?”
“No, I just… I have spells sometimes.” She frowned down at her fingers in her lap, curling them tightly. “When I’m overwhelmed or upset.”
At that, he became instantly alert. He never should have come out here. Shouldn’t have left her side for a moment, thinking her safe in a sea of her peers, dancing in a crowded room.
“Who upset you?” he demanded.
She lifted a creamy shoulder. “No one. Everyone. I-I just… I don’t have anything to say to these people. And, if I’m honest, I don’t want to hear what they have to talk about either. I don’t care about gossip or politics, fashion or scandal. And they don’t care about botany or books. They all hate each other and yearn to impress each other in this perverse and endless circle of deceit, envy, and need.”
Looking up, she closed her eyes and let the breeze toy with the wisping ringlets at her temples and neck. “I’m being overly harsh, I know. I have to learn to belong here. Or everything I have is gone… And yet, even if I do select this life, everything I have goes to whomever I chose to marry.” She opened her eyes and stared up into the vast canopy above them as if she could find answers there. “I am inconsequential either way… Sometimes I really do wish I were born a man. Though I would have made a terrible one.”
Gabriel ached to pull her close. Her circumstance did induce a well of sympathy he’d not previously had. How could someone be so privileged and helpless all at once? Was there a way out of this?
“You could untether from your fortune,” he suggested. “Turn to any one of your family members and be done with all of this.” He waved his arm toward the ballroom, where the orchestra was tuning for another waltz.
She chewed on her lip. “I know this is going to sound strange, but now that my father’s company is in my hands, I feel so utterly responsible for it. When I select someone to marry, I am selecting a future not only for me, but for the business. For the country.
“My father’s industry employs so many people. The vessels bring food, mechanical imports, implements of everything from medicine to textiles. It’s such a worthy endeavor, shipping. Such an important part of the economy and society. I’m loath to abandon that to just anyone. And…”
She pushed away from the bench, pacing the length of the pergola with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “When it comes to my family… I’d thought to grow old with Mercy, but now…” She turned to grasp the railing and stare up at the half moon. “Do you want to know my greatest fear? Being the spinster sister in the corner watching everyone in love. I want to belong somewhere. To someone.”
“Someone like Melton?” Gabriel ventured, remembering how she’d looked in the man’s arms.
She astonished him by laughing. “Least of all Melton. He was vapid and smelled like he’d bathed in aftershave. I can still taste it.” She made a face.
His wry sound of amusement seemed to distress her, and her pacing quickened, her gestures becoming animated.
“I know I’m being selective. But I want what is in the novels. I want to be struck by lightning and shaken by thunder. I want to put my heart in a man’s hands and know he’ll keep it safe. I couldn’t abide a useless lord who would while away my fortune as I sat and watched and withered into a bitter old woman. Is it too much to ask to not only share love with a man, but admiration and respect, as well? To find someone who makes this world better for being in it? Sometimes I feel like I’m this endless abyss of unfulfilled desire and I— I can never ask for what I need. I can never find it. I don’t have the courage.”
She flopped against one of the columns, resting her head against it with aggrieved antipathy. “And so here I am. Hiding in the garden like I always do.”
A hollow ache lodged within as he watched her bare her heart to the night.
He knew the longing she felt, acutely.
Except, he’d already found the lightning, it struck him breathless each time he saw her.
He wished to be the answering thunder.
But he was nothing like the man she’d described. Feeling raw and exhausted and more than a little bleak, he drifted to the pergola steps, putting space between them.
“I… take it you’re done dancing for the evening, then?” he said hopefully. “Should I call for the carriage?”
She nodded, casting a longing glance back toward the ballroom. “If I had my druthers, I’d dance until my legs gave out. I love it so much, losing myself to the rhythm, focusing only on the music and what my feet are doing… It’s the only time my thoughts are truly quiet. Usually, I’m Nora and Mercy’s bespectacled little sister. No one of consequence. But tonight, I could feel everyone watching and I… I forget how to dance.” She pushed a breath through her lips, puffing them out. “There are days I hate who I am.” Her little fists clenched, and she shook with an emotion other than fear. He watched the war on her features with a helpless compassion.
Without thinking, he stood and went to her, offering his hand. “No one is watching now.”
She blinked up at him in confusion. “You said you didn’t dance.”
“I know the basics, I suppose.” He lifted a shoulder. “You
