Carlotta Fernandez y Ortiz was a very lovely woman. And very willing.
But tonight… “I should not wish to detain you from more deserving company.” Gideon shifted his feet, trying to be discreet as he searched the walls behind her.
Doña Carlotta dropped her hand. “How considerate,” she said, lips curving. “Although I can’t imagine any company more deserving than yours.”
Gideon managed an apologetic wince. “And I am honored…”
Glancing over her shoulder, her gaze followed his for the briefest moment, then returned, bright with amusement.
“Not honored enough, you scoundrel,” she continued, her tone thoughtful rather than jealous. “Who is it that’s captured your attention this evening?”
“No one, Carlotta. Just… duty calling.”
It was the truth, after all.
Gideon’s attention by now had drifted fully beyond her, to the place along the wall where Beatrice had been standing.
Now empty.
When he straightened, the widow gave a soft, knowing laugh.
“Then by all means, I shall not… detain you.”
Gideon inclined his head, just enough to be polite.
But it was already too late.
Beatrice Beckman was gone.
A prickle moved over the back of his neck, not alarm precisely, but recognition.
He knew that look. Had known it since she was twelve years old, mud to her knees and chin lifted in defiance after following the boys somewhere she had expressly been told not to go.
If she had left the ballroom, she had likely found the one place she ought not be and inserted herself into it with alarming efficiency.
He would have wagered his new curricle on it.
Gideon exhaled slowly.
He gave her the space of a minute. Two.
Enough time, he told himself, for a lady to make use of the retiring room and return without incident.
She did not.
Gideon shifted his weight, and then, not panicking, but as a favor to good old Dash, Gideon checked the supper room, then the cloakroom, and then turned toward the terrace doors.
Just in time to see them pushed open—by Beatrice. At her side, Lady Persephone Rensleight, who appeared… pale, shaken.
Something had happened.
The two parted ways after a brief exchange of words, with Lady Persephone returning to her mother’s side while Beatrice made her way toward Lady Barrington and Miss Montague. As though nothing had occurred at all.
And where were their brothers in all of this?
Blackwell had abandoned the dance floor at the first opportunity.
And Dash?—
