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“He’s confused,” Honoria said. “He will realize he’s chosen wrong.”

“But he has chosen,” Cassie said.

“Well, he can’t be happy about it. He can’t have asked that girl to marry him, knowing he loves you.”

Cassie gave her aunt a sympathetic glance. Honoria loved her happy endings. “He doesn’t know he loves me.”

“But how can he get out of the thing now?” Honoria cried.

Cassie returned the squeeze of her aunt’s hand. “He can’t.” Only Amabel could release him now. “Aunt, we can’t help him. Instead let’s think of London. Will you go to Hatchard’s or Lackington’s first?”

At the end of the earl’s remarks, everyone did as they were expected to do, raising their glasses, and cheering on cue. Several young ladies slumped, visibly disappointed in Raven’s choice, as if they had wearied of the ball before it began.

*

Raven stepped out of the circle of Amabel’s family and friends. It was time to open the ball, and he had not yet seen Cassie. When the room suddenly hushed again, he became aware of his guests turning to the entrance. He turned to follow the crowd’s interest.

There stood Cassie, a Cassie he had never seen, but still Cassie. She wore an utterly fashionable pale blue gown of some fabric that seemed spun of air. It nipped her waist and bared her shoulders. Dark curls cascaded down her neck from a simple arrangement on her head. Silver threads of pearls in the dark strands caught the light. She passed into the room, warmly and easily acknowledging greetings from her neighbors, and like that, everyone forgot Amabel, forgot the engagement. His neighbors had come for her. The crowd opened a path for Cassie to the orchestra where she and Raven would lead the first dance. For a moment, she hesitated. Raven knew she had not wanted to make so public an appearance. Then she began to walk, her head held high, with that unmistakable dipping step of hers that could be so awkward. In this moment her walk caught the lilting rhythm of the music.

Amabel tugged his arm. “That’s not Lady Cassandra, is it?” she asked.

“It is,” said Raven, grimly. Once again, he felt duped. For him, Cassie had worn old straw bonnets, and faded, out-of-fashion gowns. She’d never done anything to her hair except to twist it in a knot at her nape. He had never seen the hollows at the base of her throat, or the sweet smooth flesh of her arms. You could have warned me, he thought.

And he knew that he had been blind. She had been before him all the time, but he had been thinking that Amabel was what he wanted, that winning her would undo the world’s judgment of him. But the world’s judgment didn’t matter. It could wound a person deeply, but it could not change who you were or alter the essence of one’s character. Cassie knew that. Her walk with all eyes upon her showed that she knew that.

*

Cassie reached the place where she must begin the dance with Raven. Her neighbors’ welcome had made the long walk possible. Without them, she never would have made it with so many eyes upon her. She was conscious of Amabel and her party in the crowd. They knew the full story of Cassie’s folly and humiliation. They had spread the hurtful phrase. But she could not be shattered again. The room was full of friends. Grandmama and Honoria were there. Cassie turned to face the crowd, standing as tall and as straight as she could.

Raven strode forward to stand at her side. He looked magnificent in the black-and-white of his evening wear that could not entirely disguise his muscularity. It was shocking how, seeing him, instantly undid all the efforts of a month of forgetting. She would have to begin again once this night was over. And she must get to London. She must replace the images in her head with other impressions. He was frowning at her.

“I’ve offended you again,” she said.

“Not, at all.” He took her hand. “So, you decided you could dance with me.”

Other couples began to take the floor.

“Grandmama was most persuasive. I will try not to let the side down.”

Lady Amabel and her partner, a young man Cassie did not know, took their places as the lines formed.

“Amabel forgave you, I take it,” she said.

“She did.” He was tight-lipped and unsmiling.

“Then everything has gone according to your plan. The room looks beautiful, and it is wonderful to see it full of people. A house like Verwood is meant to be connected to its neighbors. Thank you.”

The musicians ceased their tuning. Cassie faced Raven. He looked somber and grim. He should be radiating joy. She smiled at him. Then the orchestra struck up, a rather stately tune of an earlier time. They bowed to each other, and prompted by the music, took light steps to meet in the middle.

“It’s a dance,” she reminded him in passing. “You are stuck with me for mere minutes.”

On the opposite side, she turned to face him again. She should heed her own words. It was only a dance, but the dancing would undo all the work she had done to forget him. She might be unhappy, but she could not see why he should be so. All his efforts had brought Amabel to the lovely evening that he had made for her.

When the dance brought them together again as they moved down the line, he said, “We ended our brief friendship badly. I am sorry for that.”

“Then you have forgiven me for not telling you about Hugh?” It was some comfort that he regretted their terrible quarrel in the rain. For that she was grateful. They would not part as enemies. A turn took her away from him for a moment, and they came together again and joined hands to advance down the line.

“Have you forgiven me?” he asked.