Chapter 147: The Space Between Them

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: The Space Between Them

For several seconds neither spoke.

The problem was not a lack of things to say.

Quite the opposite.

Five months had produced entirely too many.

The result appeared to be a complete inability to choose one.

An unfortunate development.

Particularly because both of them seemed to be suffering from it.

Marian laughed first.

Mostly because the alternative was continuing to stare at him.

A strategy she suspected would eventually become embarrassing.

Possibly for both of them.

Cassian’s smile widened.

The sight did absolutely nothing to improve her condition.

"You arrived earlier than expected."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

A terrible choice.

Because the moment they left her mouth, Marian realized exactly how that sounded.

As though she had been counting the days.

The realization was deeply alarming.

Cassian, unfortunately, looked pleased.

"Have I?"

The answer was entirely unhelpful.

Marian narrowed her eyes.

Cassian appeared unrepentant.

The situation was becoming familiar remarkably quickly.

"I believe your last letter suggested another week."

"I believed there would be another week."

Marian blinked.

Then narrowed her eyes further.

"That sounds suspiciously different."

"It is."

The admission arrived without hesitation.

Marian immediately laughed.

Cassian looked absurdly pleased with himself.

The realization was deeply unfair.

"What happened?"

"I finished my work."

The answer sounded reasonable.

Unfortunately, the smile accompanying it did not.

"You rushed."

"Perhaps."

"You absolutely rushed."

"Perhaps."

The man was impossible.

The realization brought a warmth to her chest she had missed far more than she cared to admit.

Around them, the reception continued.

At least in theory.

In practice, a remarkable number of guests appeared distracted.

Several conversations had slowed noticeably.

A few had stopped altogether.

One viscount nearly walked into a decorative column.

The situation was becoming difficult to ignore.

Not that Marian noticed.

Or cared.

The distinction felt important.

"You came directly here."

It was not a question.

Cassian’s expression remained entirely innocent.

A performance neither of them believed.

"Perhaps."

Marian laughed again.

The sound escaped before she could stop it.

Something softened in Cassian’s expression immediately.

The change was small.

Almost invisible.

Yet she saw it.

And for a brief moment the noise of the ballroom faded.

Five months.

Five months of distance.

And somehow they had returned to this.

As though the conversation interrupted months ago had simply resumed.

The realization was unexpectedly comforting.

Across the ballroom, Adrian watched.

Not intentionally.

At least that was what he told himself.

The lie had become increasingly difficult to maintain.

Ashford was speaking.

Marian was laughing.

Nothing about the interaction should have bothered him.

Yet somehow it did.

Not because they were doing anything improper.

Because they weren’t.

That was the problem.

There was no impropriety.

No excuse.

No misunderstanding.

Nothing except two people who clearly enjoyed each other’s company.

The realization irritated him more than it should have.

Marian laughed again.

Ashford immediately looked toward her.

The reaction was instinctive.

Unthinking.

As though the rest of the room simply did not matter.

Adrian looked away first.

The decision improved nothing.

Meanwhile, the reception had reached an entirely different conclusion.

The rumors, it seemed, had officially died.

Not because anyone announced it.

Because nobody needed to.

The evidence stood in the middle of the ballroom.

Smiling at each other.

A dowager countess quietly won three separate wagers.

No one appeared particularly surprised.

Back near the center of the room, Marian had completely forgotten several important things.

One:

They were standing in public.

Two:

People were almost certainly watching.

Three:

Cassian was still looking at her.

The third problem remained the most serious.

"How has the season been?"

The question was simple.

Ordinary.

Yet Marian found herself smiling anyway.

"Busy."

Cassian’s expression suggested he expected a longer answer.

Marian found that unreasonably charming.

"That is a very diplomatic response."

"I learned from the best."

The answer escaped before she could stop it.

Cassian actually laughed.

A genuine laugh.

Low.

Warm.

The sound immediately became Marian’s favorite thing in the ballroom.

The realization was probably dangerous.

She ignored it.

"You attended quite a few events."

The comment surprised her.

Then she remembered.

The letters.

The reports.

The mutual acquaintances.

Of course he knew.

"Not all of them."

"No?"

The smile at the corner of his mouth deepened.

"No."

"Why not?"

Marian narrowed her eyes.

"You know why."

Cassian looked entirely too pleased.

The realization was becoming repetitive.

"I wanted updates."

His voice softened slightly.

The words were simple.

Yet Marian understood exactly what he meant.

Updates.

News.

Letters.

Anything connected to her.

The realization sent another wave of warmth through her chest.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

If anything, it felt strangely full.

Several times Marian became aware of her hands.

A deeply unfortunate development.

Because the awareness arrived for only one reason.

Cassian stood directly in front of her.

Close.

Yet not close enough.

The realization remained surprisingly persistent.

Five months ago she might not have noticed.

Now she noticed entirely too much.

The distance between them.

The space separating them.

The fact that reaching for him would be remarkably easy.

The thought was dangerous.

Marian ignored it.

The thought remained.

Across from her, Cassian appeared equally aware.

The discovery should have been comforting.

Instead it made her heart beat even faster.

"Was the journey difficult?"

Cassian’s expression shifted.

Only slightly.

"More difficult."

The answer surprised her.

"More?"

"I was coming back."

The words were quiet.

Simple.

Yet somehow they landed with surprising force.

Marian’s breath caught.

Cassian looked away briefly.

Toward the crowd.

Toward the lights.

Anywhere except directly at her.

"As it turns out," he continued, "knowing the destination does very little for one’s patience."

Marian laughed softly.

The sound held an affection she could not entirely hide.

"I see."

"I don’t believe you do."

The answer came immediately.

His eyes returned to hers.

Warm.

Steady.

Entirely unfair.

The situation was becoming impossible.

The ballroom gradually resumed breathing.

Music drifted through the air.

Guests returned to their discussions.

Servants moved between groups.

The reception found its rhythm again.

Then the musicians changed songs.

The shift was subtle.

Almost unnoticeable.

Yet it transformed the atmosphere immediately.

A dance.

The realization rippled through the room.

Marian noticed it.

So did everyone else.

The dance floor began to clear.

Couples exchanged glances.

Invitations followed.

The familiar ritual repeated itself.

His gaze drifted briefly toward the dance floor.

Then returned to her.

The silence that followed felt unexpectedly dangerous.

Not uncomfortable.

Anticipatory.

The realization sent her pulse racing all over again.

Because suddenly she knew exactly what was about to happen.

Cassian knew too.

The certainty was written plainly across his face.

For one brief moment neither spoke.

Neither needed to.

Then Cassian smiled.

Slowly.

Warmly.

Entirely unfairly.

And held out his hand.

"May I have this dance, Lady Marian?"