I had wanted to repel him, but this... La, how this chafed.
Lowering my voice, I leaned toward Edward. “What is your crime of the evening?” I asked. “Surely Aunt’s ire isn’t reserved for me alone.”
He rolled his eyes, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t ask. But we shall depart immediately and avoid any lectures.”
“You were at the faro table, weren’t you?” I pressed, ignoring the growing whispers from the couples around us. Feathered fans fluttered as stares darted toward my family.
Never tell them your true name.Grandfather’s old warning reverberated through my thoughts, a heavy reminder of the precarious place we held here.
For once, I completely understood his warnings and his desire to keep me secluded from the rest of the world. I had stepped into a battlefield where the smallest mistake could render a woman with no future or prospects.
As I watched Miss Everly shrink into the shadows, cut off from the world of privilege she’d once belonged to, an uneasy chill ran through me.
I glanced at Aunt, still obliviously fretting, and then at Edward, tension flickering across his face as he guided us to the main entrance. Mr. Sinclair caught my gaze, his expression guarded yet attentive. Had he seen the cut direct as well? Had he heard any of the gossip regarding my family?
He held out his arm for me to take. “I’ve ordered the carriage.”
I nodded and accepted his kindness, my throat tight as we headed for the exit. Formerly intoxicating, the gilded ballroom suddenly felt like a stage set to scrutinize every step, every smile, every breath. An elaborate trap set to catch any mistake and amplify it for all to see.
I must never again forget my purpose. Especially when dancing.
9:Kitty
I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies,
but not the madness of men.
SIR ISAAC NEWTON
“I have never been more embarrassed in all my life.”
Grandfather’s toneless declaration, much colder and more foreboding than his usual biting scoldings, brought tears to my eyes as I stood in the drawing room just past noon the next day, the sunlight slanting through the windows in bright, unforgiving shafts. He slapped a caricature sheet onto the table, the picture of me dancing in the arms of Lord Chudley somehow grotesque and exaggerated. My nose had never been so large!
But it was the heavy shading, meant to mock the color of my skin, that brought an odd quiver to my chest.
“Who drew this?” I demanded hotly.
“Does it matter? It has circulated throughout all of London! But if you must know—” He snatched the paper again and thrust it into my face. “Mr. Scathmore of theLondon Scrounger!”
“Imagine a man hiding behind such a ridiculous name.” I lifted my chin. “Besides, Lord Chudley asked me twice. I did not want to offend my host.”
Grandfather fumed as he paced in front of me, crumpling the hideous cartoon before tossing it into the fireplace.
“You know such actions call your character into question. Your engagement was all but announced. In fact, I had planned to offer a dinner in the weeks to come where we would share the news with friends and guests. The banns would have been printed if Mr. Sinclair hadn’t asked me to wait.”
He had asked such a thing? The revelation stunned me—more than I cared to admit.
“Mr. Sinclair may not ask for my hand after all,” I couldn’t resist adding.
Now it was Grandfather’s turn to flush red. And so he did until the veins tracing paths in his nose seemed even more stark.
“He will ask at the proper time, when you arenotgallivanting to bluestocking salons and making a fool of yourself. If I know Lord Sinclair, his grandson will do the deed or face the wrath of both families. Lord Sinclair and I had an arrangement, and I didn’t risk my life—” He pressed his lips closed. The weight of old memories evidently threatened to spill forth, and he’d almost let them escape. “For nothing,” he finished, more controlled.
Goose pimples scattered across my arms at the bold admission and my stomach curdled. I did not need another reminder that I was naught but a business arrangement. Mr. Sinclair had told me as much.
I folded my arms across my chest, trying to read the lines etched deeply into the colonel’s face.
“What exactly did you risk your life for, Grandfather?”
