He could hardly promise that he would have been able to let her go if he had.

Saving himself had never been so agonizing.

But he had watched her, and it seemed that every time he had looked at her, she had looked at him. He lost count of the number of secret smiles they shared over the course of the night, but he could see each one in his mind’s eye. A wondrous variety of smiles, and he adored each and every one.

Eventually, the ball came to a close, and the neighbors and guests left for their own homes, while the family returned to their bedchambers.

Hugh sat in his room for a bit but found himself far too agitated to even attempt to prepare for sleep. Despite the lateness of the hour, and the fatigue he felt seeping into his bones, he was not ready.

He paced his room for a bit, then decided a change of his surroundings would be better suited for it. He left his room, candlestick in hand, and quietly slipped from the bedrooms down to the main part of the house where he would be sure not to disturb anyone.

The gallery was his first destination, and he slowly ambled along the seemingly endless portraits of past inhabitants and relatives of the Asheleys, and even a few portraits of pets, oddly enough. He hid a yawn behind his hand, then moved back towards the now dark and empty ballroom.

Rather than enter, he leaned against the doorjamb, smiling fondly at the recent memories he had gained only hours before.

“So, you couldn’t sleep, either?”

Hugh turned his head, smile already in place, to face the one person he most wanted to see in this moment.

Elinor.

She was still in her finery, though her hair had lost some of its perfection with time.

He liked it looser. Freer. More natural. More Elinor, in fact.

He would always be in favor of that.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I didn’t try.”

She laughed a little and came to stand before him, setting her candle on the floor near his. “Neither did I. The evening was too full of wonderful things, and I… Well, I didn’t want it to end just yet.”

Hugh smiled at his love. “Believe me, I perfectly comprehend the feeling.”

Elinor smiled gently, rubbing her arms with bare hands. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

He gave her a warm nod. “I would, indeed.”

She said nothing to that, slowly rubbing her arms again as she looked into the ballroom. “Strange. It was so filled with light and music and joy not long ago, and now there is no hint there was anything there at all.”

“Gone without a trace,” he murmured, watching her instead of the room. “Only alive in memory.”

“As with all the best things, it seems,” Elinor replied. “No tangible hints to remember it by.”