Things were going better than Greg had imagined they would.

Tel had walked over to ask Felicia Finnegan to dance. She smiled at him and said something, he had said something and sat down beside and they’d been talking now for half an hour.

Greg went around the dance floor once with Sonya Pasco and then with one of the Costello twins, and then edged over towards his brother and overheard Tel say, “Of course, there is nothing that can compare with the feel of Mulberry,” as Felicia nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Yes! I told my father that, and what did he bring home to me? China silk! ‘You get what you pay for,’ I told Papa. ‘Buy cheap get cheap.””

Tel shook his head over Felicia having to cope with china silk. “You have to know about these things before you invest in them,” he said. “As I’ve said repeatedly to Scott Bonney, there’s absolutely no substitute for high quality.”

Ah, thought Greg. Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.

Greg looked over the room. One would think the Finnegans would send a chaperone with Felicia. One would think her older sister would accompany her, but he could see no sign of Felda. He’d planned to intercept her if she hovered too close to Tel and Felicia, be a good brother and make sure Tel could have a relatively private conversation with Felicia. He’d ask Felda if she’d read The Well Beloved. That should result in at least ten minutes of good conversation about Hardy. In fact, he had planned a list of books to ask her about, since they’d not really spoken since that awkward meeting in the library. it was written down on a slip of paper in his pocket, and he’d looked over it before walking to The Rose with Tel. They would be friends again. He’d have someone on this damned island he could really talk to.

Now it looked as if that effort would go to waste.

She was probably home with a good book. He imagined Felda curled up in one of the armchairs in that room of shelves, lost in Doyle or Wilde or Kipling. It would be so pleasant to be there, to be able to ask her, one more time, “What do you think of it?”

And to hear what she thought and then read it again and see something new, something he’d missed.

Oh well.

He looked again at Tel and Felicia. They still a little apart, their heads close. Now was the time Tel should put his arm around her. It was obvious even from where Greg stood that Felicia wanted him to move closer, touch her, but really, Greg would have to leave that part of things to Tel. No reason for Greg to stay.

What was Felda thinking, allowing Felicia to just wander off to a party by herself? Sitting at home with a book while her pretty sister wandered into the toils of Tel. Poor, silly flighty Felicia, out there all alone without Felda to take care of her. He thought less of Felda Finnegan for that. He really did.

He wasn’t sorry she’d not shown up.

In fact, he wasn’t sorry any more about that encounter in the library, and the next time he saw her across a room, or walking past him on the street, he wasn’t going to feel any pain at all! This was the best thing that could have happened.

Greg turned, intending to go fetch his coat and hat and almost bumped into Felda Finnegan, who’d just walked into the room.

Oh God she was beautiful.