“You are different tonight,” Blake said, eyes narrowed with interest as he pulled me in for the next turn of the cotillion, our right forearms intertwining as we circled each other.
“Whatever do you mean, my lord?” Gracious, even my voice sounded freer and less encumbered by all the rules and expectations of high society. That said, it wasBlake,so I wasn’t too worried about him finding fault with my comportment, but for once, I wanted to enjoy truly letting go during a dance.
A vision of sparkling blue eyes filled my head—would dancing with my tutor be half as thrilling as racing through a village in the dead of night with the threat of being caught at every turn looming over us? It was strange to think that the incident at thegambling den had been only a few days ago. The healing scab on my hand beneath my arm-length glove pulled slightly. Gloves had been a godsend.
Will and the others had also made it back safely, without being apprehended by any proctors or worse. He had left a note tacked to my door, saying that he was never again trusting the twins. I’d laughed and written him a short message, one that I left for my faithful yet anonymous scout to deliver, replying that it hadn’t been their fault and to go easy on them. None of our group had been injured, thank goodness.
Unfortunately, I had been summoned to London by my mother, but the incident at the gaming hell had done something unexpected and unalterable to me. All the rigid control I’d held over myself started to fray…like a thread being ripped from its confining stitches. Suddenly, I wanted to exist in the moment and experience each second as deeply as I could, even if it was during a simple cotillion. I wanted to bepresent.
Wasn’tthatwhat life was about?
Newton talked about motion and his theory of being at rest versus the opposite. Instead of being stagnant, I wanted to fly. I wanted to soar and keep soaring, despite the risk of discovery for not being the decorous young woman everyone knew me to be. My newfound thoughts were dangerous. No one in thetonwanted ladies who did not behave exactly as they were bred to—smiling when required, speaking when invited, performing like the perfect automaton.
“Something’s different about you,” Blake said again as he led me off the ballroom floor toward the refreshments room.“What’s going on in that inventive little mind of yours? What are you up to, Roz?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “Moi?”
“Oui, toi,” he shot back. “And now you’re being cute with the French. Something is up. Your eyes are glittering like you have a secret.” His stare intensified as he pressed a hand to his chest, always the thespian. “Be still my fluttering heart.Areyou keeping secrets from me, Lady Rosalin?”
“Nothing of note, my lord, I promise you,” I said, accepting a glass of lemonade and collecting my breath. I was uncharacteristically parched. Perhaps it was because I was actually dancing instead of mapping out the steps like a master cartographer. In truth, the change had been exhilarating.
“I don’t believe you,” Blake said.
I almost laughed aloud at his peeved expression. “You’re imagining things.”
“Have you met someone?” he demanded, making me nearly choke on my next sip. “A clandestine lover? You can tell Papa Blake.”
“Goodness, you love gossip.” I wrinkled my nose. “And please, never refer to yourself like that again.”
I watched as a young woman approached, infatuation in her eyes, her dance card in hand. I could sense Blake’s reluctance to leave our conversation unresolved, but he frowned at me with a resolute look that said he fully intended to get out whatever secrets I was harboring, one way or another. Smirking, I arched a brow in challenge and was rewarded by a disbelieving snort, his eyes brightening with intrigue. “I knew it, you crafty minx!”
“You know nothing, Lord Blake.”
Something effervescent bubbled in my chest as he let himself be led to the ballroom floor by his eager partner. I wanted more than anything to confide in someone…give voice to the beautiful chaos bursting inside of me. I was discovering who the real Lady Rosalin was, and it was glorious! It finally felt like I was peeling back all the layers of myself…and uncovering all the special, imperative pieces that made me who I was. I enjoyed being seen and being valued by people like Will and the twins.
Andhim.
My inner voice was quick to chide me.He’s not seeing you. He’s seeing Ansel.
The reminder was harsh. But I refused to let my joy be crushed. Regardless of my false outer disguise, it was stillmeon the inside, and that had to mean something.
You’re deceiving them all.
I clenched my teeth at the sound of my self-righteous conscience. “Not where it matters,” I growled under my breath in a forceful tone, belatedly realizing that anyone who saw me might remark at my state of mind if I kept muttering to myself. “Get it together, for God’s sake!”
“Roz?”
My spine stiffened against the marble column that blocked my view of the entrance to the ballroom.Thatvoice was one I knew. Panic exploded within me as my two separate worlds converged.
A smiling face peeked around the column, delighted surprise and then dismay running across his familiar features as hetook in my profile, the feathers in my hair, and the length of my gown. My stomach dipped unsteadily at the sight of Will but then righted itself when I realized my identity was safe. I was Lady Rosalin.
Will’s ruddy face paled to an ashen color as he bowed several times, resembling a chicken pecking at feed. “Oh, my lady. I do beg your pardon. I mistook you for someone else.”
I swallowed my immediate mirth at his adorably flummoxed reaction, guessing that he meant my cousin, and kept my face composed. Will would not take it well if a young lady laughed at his expense, and publicly at that. “And who might that be, good sir?”
While it was proper for young gentlemen to be introduced to ladies and not introduce themselves, there was no one around to judge either of us for one small impropriety. I glanced up quickly, searching for my mother in the crowd, but she was in conversation with the Duchess of Harbridge. If Blake had been here, he could have handled the situation more appropriately, but I could see him twirling his partner, his eyes shooting me daggers of doom every time he spun in my direction.
Will cleared his throat. “Er, my lady, may I beg your gracious pardon,” he repeated in a croak, sweat breaking out over his brow and his eyes wide. “My friend Lord Ansel Chen. Your voice…er…is rather similar.” He blinked wildly. “Not that your voice is that of a gentleman…I mean…your voice…is lovely…he…Roz…” He closed his eyes and sighed as if the world were ending with the forlorn breath that left his body. “Please just forget I said anything at all.”
