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startled.
    ‘I’m glad I don’t belong in your world, then.’
    ‘I’m beginning to feel I don’t
belong in my world.’ She said it only half-jokingly, wanting to test his
reaction, but Richard said nothing. He simply put the button hook down, turned
her towards the mirror and told her how lovely she looked. She knew he meant it.
She loved that he always made a point of complimenting her, but tonight it
wasn’t enough.
    ‘I wish...’
    He looked at her enquiringly, but she could not bring herself
to spoil the moment. ‘Nothing,’ Errin said. Richard kissed her forehead, and she
was almost relieved when he did not press her further on the matter.
    The ball had exceeded all her expectations. Masked and
dominoed, the haut ton mingled with merchants, courtesans and those of
the middling class whose curiosity had overcome their scruples, all freed by
their disguises to behave outrageously with impunity. Errin longed to dance but
knew neither the steps nor the music to the cotillions and quadrilles, and the
MC’s instructions to jeté , coupe balote or pas de basque meant nothing to her. Eventually a waltz was
struck up and Richard swept her onto the floor, holding her so close she had no
option but to follow him, twirling and whirling round the floor just exactly as
she’d seen them do on that celebrity dance show. Errin threw herself into the
festivities with gusto, abandoning her reserve and managing to forget all about
the awful task that lay ahead of her. The end of the evening. The end of
everything.
    Later, back in Kilcreggan House, they sat together in the
firelight, idly picking over the highlights of the evening until Richard noticed
her distracted air. ‘A penny for them.’
    ‘I have to go back to New York tomorrow.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘Don’t you see? The chair, the thing that links us, it’s here
in London. I’ll be thousands of miles away.’
    ‘But I assumed you would be taking it with you on one of these
flying ships you’ve described to me. I just assumed—’
    ‘What, Richard?’ Errin interrupted, her voice harsh with the
threat of tears. ‘What did you assume?’
    ‘I assumed you wanted things to continue between us.’ Richard’s
voice hardened. ‘Obviously I was mistaken.’
    ‘We can’t go on like this.’
    ‘Why not? What is wrong with wanting to continue to enjoy what
we have? We’ve been granted a unique opportunity. Don’t throw it away on a
whim.’
    ‘A whim! You think I’ve not thought this through?’
    ‘Why are you getting so upset?’
    Errin sniffed valiantly. ‘I’m not getting upset. I
just—Richard, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I can’t carry on like this
anymore. It’s not enough.’
    ‘We have something no one else has, and it’s not enough! What
more can you possibly want?’
    She opened her mouth to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come.
He didn’t get it. He didn’t want real intimacy. He didn’t want her to be an
integral part of his life. He just didn’t love her enough.
    ‘Errin? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
    She dashed her hand across her eyes, relieved to find the tears
that were clogging her throat had not risen. ‘It doesn’t matter. There’s no
point trying to explain.’
    Richard had a nagging sense that he was missing something vital
but he could not for the life of him work out what it was. ‘Why not?’
    She stared at him for a long time, wanting to tell him, aching
to pour out her heart to him, and she almost did. But she knew, deep in that
very heart, that to do so would end what they had as effectively as her planned
abandonment of her visits to the wingback chair. He didn’t love her. She didn’t
want him pretending he did simply in order to continue as they were until he had
had enough. ‘If I have to explain, then it’s pointless,’ she said, finally
accepting defeat. Her head had told her she needed to end things for her own
sake. Her heart had held out a desperate hope that Richard would