“Ah,” he said, his tone soft but unyielding, as if savoring a victory. “Then there is still a chance.”
The comment was nearly a declaration, but before I could respond, another dancer split us apart again, and we whirled to other partners, stepping through the dance’s intricate formations. The quadrille seemed to toy with us, repeatedly joining us then separating us before I could gather a reply.
“You will waltz with me before the night ends,” Lord Chudley commanded when he next returned me to Edward and Mr. Sinclair.
“We did not indulge in such scandalous activities in my day,” Aunt moaned while fanning herself, as if to prevent a swoon.
“It is nothing inappropriate, Aunt. Just good, vigorous exercise.”
My answer must have been too loud. Heads turned, and a ripple of laughter followed. To my dismay, Lord Chudley’s sister, Lady Anne, stood among a group of younger women nearby, her expression twisted into a subtle sneer. She hadn’t even bothered to walk over and greet me.
The giggles, muffled behind their fans, burned like pricks of ice against my skin. They exchanged glances before their eyes swept over me again, scrutinizing every detail. My gown, my manner—everything felt inadequate under their sharp gazes.
I moved closer to Aunt, willing myself to appear composed, though heat crept up my neck. What a country bumpkin they must think me.
At some point during the quadrille, Edward must have returned from the smoking room. I caught sight of him near the refreshment table, his expression softened by amusement. To my surprise, Edward danced the cotillion that followed, showing a lightness on his feet. I, too, danced with other partners—all acquaintances of my brother and grandfather—while Mr. Sinclair waited on the sidelines. To my astonishment, he didn’t invite any other women to dance.
As another cotillion ended and I curtsied to my current partner, Lord Chudley appeared at my side, a wide smile lighting his face.
“Please, do me the honor,” he said, his grip firm as he clasped my hand. “I shall count the entire evening a loss if I do not dance with you again.”
I hesitated, glancing down at my card. The next dance was a waltz, and the name penciled beside it was most certainly not Lord Chudley’s. A pang of guilt pricked me as I met his eager expression.
“My card...” I began, feeling torn.
“Surely I can persuade you to make an exception,” he said, his tone laced with mischief.
A perverse rebellion echoed within me, along with a tingle of pleasure at being singled out by one of the most handsome, charming men of my acquaintance.
He took my silence as a yes, and with a small wink, led me among the other couples.
Only then did my actions sink in. Two dances. Unheard of. Especially if word had already spread that I intended to marry Mr. Sinclair.
“I do not think others will approve—” I began, stepping back in hesitation.
He tugged me forward with a sly grin. “Surely you, of all people, do not care what others think, Miss Grenville? After all, I have it on good authority that you attended a bluestocking salon.”
My mouth fell open in the most unladylike manner.
“I jest. Lady Ashford is delightful and a friend of my family,” he added with a second wink. “But I like to think you are a free spirit. And how else may I tell you of Mr. Herschel’s observatory? Would it please you to know that I’ve made arrangements for you to visit and see the constellations from his own instrument?”
“Oh my,” I breathed, a flicker of excitement overcoming my previous reluctance. Yet as I moved in time with the figures of the dance, my gaze brushed across the room—and landed on Mr. Sinclair.
“I hope I haven’t overwhelmed you, Miss Grenville,” Lord Chudley said, his voice drawing me back. “You seem distracted.”
I blinked and forced a smile. “Not at all, my lord. The stars... It’s a most generous offer.”
For reasons I couldn’t yet name, I found myself glancing again to see Mr. Sinclair’s reaction to my dance.
The music once again carried me away, and my gown, with its delicate white netting and silver embroidery along the sleeves, made me feel truly like a star orbiting alongside other constellations.
“Yes, I told Mr. Herschel I had encountered quite the scholar. He and his sister both would enjoy meeting you,” Lord Chudley said. “You are pleased—I can tell.”
“I am very pleased,” I admitted with a smile.
Dimples carved his cheeks. “Good, for I intend to make an impression on you, Miss Grenville.”
Before I could answer, the dance ended, and he led me to Aunt, who appeared truly pale and on the verge of swooning.
