Footsteps approached behind her, paused. A soft knock. “Leticia?”
Her aunt stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She said nothing at first. Just looked at her niece for a long moment.
“You cannot undo it,” she said gently.
Leticia turned, stricken. “He doesn’t even know who I am.”
“I know.”
“I’ll tell him the truth. In the morning. We’ll straighten it out.”
Her aunt’s voice softened, but it did not bend. “And do you think society will forget what it heard tonight? What it saw? You said yes, Leticia, in front of half the ton. If you retract that now, it will follow you. It will follow your family. Your parents.”
Leticia looked down. Her fingers trembled against the silk of her gown. “What am I to do?”
Her aunt crossed the room and held her close.
“You are to be brave, as you always have been. But you are no longer a girl who can choose and unchoose at will. You’re a woman now, and your next step must be taken with your eyes open.”
Together, they returned to the ballroom.
The music had resumed. Soft, unobtrusive. A few couples moved across the floor in quiet figures, trying too hard to appear unaffected.
Leticia held her head high. Her steps were sure, her mask secure. But the hush as she entered rippled like a breeze across still water. People turned. Murmured. One woman curtsied too deeply. Another leaned toward her companion, whispering behind a fan.
“Is that her?”
“So young.”
“I thought it was Miss Notley.”
Lady Eastbury’s presence was a shield beside her, calm and composed. Leticia kept her gaze forward, her smile nonexistent. The ballroom blurred at the edges.
Ash stood at the far end. He didn’t move toward her, but his gaze found hers. There was something unreadable in it, concern, perhaps. Or confusion.
She didn’t look away. But she didn’t approach him either.
A familiar voice rose nearby. “There you are! You’ve been thesubject of every whisper.”
Mrs. Bainbridge swept toward them in a flourish of tulle and pale blue silk. “Come now, my dear. The look on half these ladies’ faces is enough to give me indigestion. Let me rescue you before one of them offers you a bridal crown made of peacock feathers.”
Leticia allowed herself to be led, grateful for the distraction. She did not know whether to laugh or cry, only that she was still standing.
But as they passed beneath the arch of the ballroom’s far alcove, there it was again, that flicker of warmth and ache and dread. The way he had looked at Erica. The words he had spoken.You nearly fooled me.
He had looked into her eyes and seen someone else. That was what she would remember long after the music, the gossip, and the glitter had faded.
Let the ton whisper.
Let them cheer.
Let them print their announcements in the morning papers.
Leticia would remember that look for the rest of her life.
Chapter Eight
Leticia stood stilllong after the ballroom erupted, not applauding, not invisible either. Guests glanced her way with curiosity, perhaps even approval.
