The dance is in full swing, servants and family milling around, either dancing, visiting, or eating food. At one point, Amber tries to do all three. Adah dragged Aleksi away right as we arrived, and they've been dancing ever since—occasionally joined by Mrs. Kozlov.
I, myself, danced with some of the grounds workers, gentle old men with weather-worn smiles. Now, I linger near the edge of the crowd, chatting with whoever drifts my way.
So far, I've talked to most of the maids, the other footman, Mr. Stephens and Mrs. Hobbs, as well as a few other servants. Lady Anna and Lady Welch also both came by to talk briefly before sweeping away.
The music picks up into a faster tune—the kind where feet stomp and skirts twirl. Someone is laughing near the food tables—Amber probably, by the sound. The air smells like roasted meat and the sharp tang of spiced cider, and the candlelight dances across the hall along with the couples. My foot taps gently to the music, and a small smile rests on my face.
"Care to dance?"
The valet slinks up next to me, and it is difficult to keep from frowning. I am about to decline when Lord Welch spots us. He greets us with a jovial smile.
"Why aren't you two dancing?"
I know he means no harm, and probably has not noticed his valet's creepy tendencies, but I can't help but panic a bit. Now, rejecting his offer would be awkward. It feels as though too many eyes are on me, making me sweat.
I feel the valet's hand close around mine before I even nod. It's instinct—not agreement—that makes me move. I glance at Lord Welch, still watching, smiling like he has done something kind. There's no escaping without making a scene, and that would reflect on the Lord, not just me. My stomach churns.
I try to keep as much distance as possible between us, but he cages me in with his surprisingly strong grip.
"Such a pretty thing."
Alcohol—I can smell it on his breath. I turn my face away, but that only affords him the opportunity to get closer to my ear.
"We could be… close, you know." His words slur slightly. "You always act too uptight, but I know that's not who you are; I know I can get you to loosen up."
He laughs and I fight the urge to gag. I have to get away from him.
I try to step back, even a little. His grip adjusts immediately, pulling me close again. My smile stays pasted on—barely. His hand goes to the small of my back, and I feel utterly trapped. I scan the room. Too many eyes, not enough help.
It's a spur-of-the-moment decision—and lucky timing—when we accidentally collide with another dancing pair. Even though it isn't even hard, I go down immediately.
There are cries of worry, and people gather around me on the floor. I make a show of grabbing my ankle and say a few apologetic excuses to the valet about how I won't be able to dance anymore. He waves my apologies away with a tight smile, but his eyes stay sharp, as if he doesn't quite believe me.
The crowd parts suddenly, and Aleksi is standing there, an intense look on his face. His eyes search until they find mine, and immediately, they are wild with concern. Kneeling in front of me this time, he does what he did with Amber—checking my ankle. He pauses before touching me, as if scared to break me. His fingers gently brush only my stockings before his touch becomes more firm and his eyebrows draw in concentration.
I wonder vaguely if I really am hurt, because where he touches sends sparks up my leg. A small shiver runs its way up my spine, and I decide it must be the cold.
Grace stands by, her face tight with worry. Lady Anna stands by too, biting her lip, eyebrows drawn together. I hear someone awkwardly laugh, but get shushed almost immediately. Mrs. Hobbs looks down at me in her usual intense way, but instead of focusing on my ankle, her eyes are trained on my face. Her gaze flicks up to the valet, eyes narrowing slightly. How much did she see?
I worry Aleksi will be able to tell I'm faking—or deem me completely healthy. I try to catch his eye, but before I can, he says to the crowd,
"She'll be fine, but dancing is out of the question. Please, go back to it."
It's then he looks at me, and I don't know if he reads the relief in my eyes—and gratefulness—but it's there all the same.
Aleksi hesitates, glancing up at the gathered faces before making up his mind.
"I'm going to pick you up now," he says quietly—not for the crowd, but for me.
It's not exactly a request, but I nod anyway.
The moment he lifts me, I almost squeal in alarm. He is so tall the ground feels miles away. I can hear his heartbeat against my ear, and his chest is pressed to my side. Suddenly, I'm caught between wrapping my hands around his neck to help him carry me and keeping them in my lap.
Would it be strange if I wrapped my arms around him?
I'm saved by making a decision by him gently setting me down in a chair.
I try not to dwell on the loss of warmth—or the feel of his muscles shifting, not just the look of them. Keeping my face down so no one can see my blush, I mutter out a thank you before Lady Anna rushes over and shoos Aleksi away.
"Laura! Are you alright?"
I don't answer right away, though. I raise my eyes to Aleksi's and mouth the words, thank you—and I wonder if he knows how much I'm really thanking him for.
He lingers, almost reluctant to leave, but Adah glides over and sends him off.
Lady Anna and Adah sit with me, insisting to get me anything I need. Adah hands me a plate, piled so high I can't even see the rim.
"Eat," she commands.
I raise an eyebrow but take a bite anyway. It's unfair how good it tastes.
Grace and Amber collect snow in a cloth and bring it to me to put on my foot. Lady Anna almost tears up, worried I won't be able to enjoy the night, and I end up cracking jokes until she is smiling—and talking her down from calling a doctor here.
Despite the ice on my ankle, and circumstances of my "injury," the warmth returns—and not from any fire.