"Because I've spent a great deal of my life being courted for reasons that had nothing to do with who I actually am," he said finally. "Titles attract a particular kind of attention, Lady Avalene: calculated, transactional, endlessly rehearsed. I've grown rather tired of it. When I watched you at the Hartwell recital, helping a child who could offer you nothing in return, in a moment you believed no one important was watching, I saw something I very rarely encounter anymore."
He turned to look at her then, and something in his expression had shed its careful composure entirely.
"I saw someone who was kind because kindness was simply who she was, not because she calculated it might be useful. I wanted to know more of that person. I still do."
Avalene's chest ached with something too large and unfamiliar to name easily. "I'm not accustomed to being wanted for anything beyond usefulness," she admitted. "My stepmother made certain of that."
"Then I hope you'll allow me the chance to prove there's another way to be wanted," Rhys said. "One with no conditions attached at all."
The moment stretched between them, fragile and full, until the distant sound of the orchestra shifting into a new piece drifted out through the terrace doors and gently broke the spell.
"Dance with me again," he asked, offering his hand.
"I'd like that," Avalene said, and took it.
The rest of the evening passed in a warmth Avalene hadn't allowed herself to imagine in years: dance after dance, conversation that ranged from the trivial to the surprisingly deep, laughter that came easily and often, undimmed by the watchful eyes still tracking their every movement across the ballroom floor. For the first time since her father's ship had gone down and taken with it every certainty she'd once relied upon, Avalene felt something like the outline of a future beginning to take shape: uncertain, still unproven, but present in a way she'd stopped believing anything could be.
It was nearing midnight when Martha's nephew was due to return with the cart, and Avalene reluctantly excused herself to gather her shawl from where she'd left it near the entrance hall. Rhys insisted on walking her out himself, ignoring the curious looks that followed them both.
And it was as they reached the great doors of Ashcombe Hall that her stepmother intercepted them one final time.