The first doors she encountered led outside onto a small terrace. Closing the door quietly behind her, she leaned out over the white marble balustrade and drew in a deep lungful of crisp night air. She shivered lightly. She considered going back inside to retrieve a shawl but feared she'd be seen by Lady Russell and drawn back into the party. It was chilly enough to give her gooseflesh, but she didn't care. If she had to sacrifice some comfort for a moment of privacy, so be it.
She was accustomed to seeking her moments of solitude in the night, after everyone had gone to their beds, often walking alone in her private garden on moonlit evenings. Tonight a full moon shone brightly, illuminating the gravel walks of the parterre gardens. She gazed up at the stars blinking in the vast blackness of the night. She hadn't had a particularly enjoyable time at the party, but the experience had surely been enlightening.
***
Seated down the table on the opposite side of Lady Mariah, Nick had the advantage of being able to watch the interplay between her and Lord Rochford. She had seemed distracted, picking at her food and taking frequent sips of wine. He'd noticed with irritation how solicitous Rochford was about seeing her glass refilled. Was he purposely plying her with wine? Surely the earl didn't seek to soften her for a seduction. Would Rochford stoop so low to ensure he ensnared the heiress? Nick didn't know the man well enough to say, but his protective instincts were on high alert. She had little experience of men, of that he was certain. It would be child's play for a man like Rochford to tarnish her reputation and force her hand into marriage.
Nick had promised himself he would stay close by and ensure that she got safely to her bed tonight, but then he'd been abruptly pulled away from supper, and by the time he'd returned to the dining room, the guests had dispersed.
Most of the women had sought the drawing room while a number of men lingered at table over bottles of port. He noted that Rochford was not among them. He immediately sought out Lady Russell, hoping Mariah would be with her, but found Marcus's mother paired with the duchess at the card table.
"Needham! Have you come to alleviate my anxiety at last?" Lady Russell asked with what could easily be interpreted as a careless smile, but it was all too clear to one who knew her well that she was beside herself with worry. "Is there word from Marcus?"
"Yes," Nick replied. "The duke is in receipt of a dispatch."
Lady Russell heaved a great sigh of relief. "Thanks to heaven above. What does Marcus say?"
"He informed the duke that he had urgent business that necessitated a detour to Westminster. He assured His Grace that he would depart once more for Woburn Abbey the moment he has taken care of the matter. "
Her brows furrowed as she proceeded to shuffle the cards. "What business would take Marcus to Westminster?"
"He did not expound, my lady, but Marcus does not yet despair of arriving late this evening."
"It is already late this evening," she replied. "What is that foolish boy about to risk traveling the roads late at night?"
"I suspect I have an idea what he is about, but it is not for me to say. You will have to hear it from Marcus." He gazed about the room. "I don't see Lady Mariah. Do you know where she is?"
"I have not seen her since we left the dining room." Lady Russell glanced up as she began to deal the hand. "Lord Rochford seems to have taken an interest in her. Mayhap they are taking some air together?" She accompanied the remark with a meaningful glance toward the terrace.
Her suggestion confirmed his worst fears—that Rochford might try to seduce Mariah. "I will go and look for her," he said. "Surely she will wish to know the news of her cousin."
"I am certain she would," Lady Russell replied. "Please promise you will bring word to me when Marcus arrives."
"I promise." He departed with a slight bow. Nick then headed straight for the terrace, hoping this abominable night wasn't going to end with him being taken away in shackles for assaulting a peer of the realm.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Love is not in our choice but in our fate."- John Dryden
NICK FOUND HER on one of the private terraces overlooking the gardens. Alone. Thank God. Dressed in her ivory gown and drenched in soft moonlight, she resembled nothing so much as an ethereal being leaning wistfully over the balustrade.
"Lady Mariah?" he called out softly.
She turned to face him with a look of surprise. "Mr. Needham?"
"I thought to find you with Rochford."
"Then you were mistaken."
"Mistaken?" He frowned. "I don't believe I mistook his interest in you."
She released a bitter laugh. "His interest is in my estate, perhaps. In my dowry, most certainly. But in me? I assure you not, Mr. Needham."
"Then he is a fool."
"No. We are simply from different worlds. That one is his," she inclined her head to the door, "and this one is mine."
"Are you not enjoying yourself?"
"To be honest, I feel completely out of my element without Lydia. All too much like a sheep in a cow pasture."
"You don't look like a sheep," he said. "A sprite perhaps, but never a sheep."
"A sprite?" She laughed. "You told me you weren't given to false flattery, Mr. Needham."