Chapter Text
Colin twists, angling his vision over his shoulder, to watch her leave their conversation. She disappears into the crowd.
He’s a little surprised. And it’s more than that if he's being honest. He can’t help feeling slightly unsettled by her turning down his invitation to dance. Were they not still friends?
Or were her words just now, after his apology - words that finally made him feel a little better, words that seemed to understand when others had not, words that supported the act of leaning into love assuredly no matter when it comes - just being polite?
Did she actually just feel like all the others do? What were Anthony's words again? Oh, right. "You betray your immaturity!!"
Or, as he himself put it more bluntly just now to her. “I was a fool."
He sighs.
After all, it WAS an abrupt departure.
Come to think of it, he’s remembering now that the last time he asked her to dance at Vauxhall had started awkwardly too. And, no, not because Miss Cowper oozed her cruelty so directly when she obviously tipped her glass right on Pen’s dress. Not that part.
The earlier part: the part when her response to his cheery greeting was met with a "Oh, Colin, [and her swift adjustment of herself, he remembers, before she added] I did not know that you would be here!"
“Sorry to disappoint!” he remembers he replied. He feels a little proud now that he was so quick to return a quip that could be interpreted either way, just in case. He didn’t think she WAS disappointed that he was there, but he had to be honest - sometimes it was a little hard to tell with her.
This evening was no exception.
He fully turns now to face the ballroom floor, starting to watch what to him look like all happy loved-up couples. Gentlemen are gently turning their partners, who smile back up at them eliciting either more smiles - or smolder - in return.
Suddenly, next to him, Mr. Portnoy is taking a chance on Miss Binnington. “Shall we dance?” he overhears. “Of course,” comes her response.
He can’t help but drop his gaze to the floor then. Would she too have refused, had it been himself asking instead?
Colin takes a sweeping look around the room, the flower arrangements in blooming abundance, the fresh portrait of his sister and the Duke, everyone dressed to their formal best in shades of black and white and blue. Not a speck of yellow in sight.
What a beautiful stage for romance Daphne has created for tonight, he thinks.
But that just makes his heart sore.
Maybe he isn’t quite ready for all of this just yet.
He slips over to the refreshment table knowing that dessert will cheer him for his next conversations this evening. And he's eager to tell more people about his tour, he thinks. He scans the selections laid across the display - chocolate cake, lemon biscuits, a series of intriguing puddings drizzled with custard. And just over there his school acquaintances Daniel and George are handing drinks to some of the more congenial, in his opinion - maybe even effervescent - young ladies with whom he grew up here in the ton. A good group to join.
He sighs again. Not even one of those facts, he's realizing, actually made him feel any better.
He grabs a biscuit and strides away, past the animated chatter and toward the staircase, which he takes up two at time.
His brow furrows as he exits into the heavy night air. A lone drop of rain tags his shoulder as he calls for his carriage.
I still have a lot of preparations for my morning departure, he says to himself, but he says it out loud. In case anyone might care to hear.