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Someone wasn’t impressed. Time to avoid the awkwardness. Jay stood and extended a hand to Ursula. Which she didn’t even notice. Consarn it.
“We should be seen together.” Jay encircled her wrist and pulled. “We’re engaged, after all.”
She nodded, not meeting his eye, focused still on Hugo.
“He’s right. You’ll call on us, and we’ll all discuss the plan I explained in more detail,” she said.
Before Hugo could cause her to linger, Jay tugged at her arm, harder. Why was she so bloody slow all of a sudden? She rose, and he dragged her into the dark, narrow hall.
“What was that about?” Ursula squinted at him, as if she had no idea what happened in the room.
Why did that make him want to shake her so much?
Jay gripped her hand tighter as they moved through partygoers, back down the stairs, towards the dancing. The scheme called for a bigger and better show.
“We have to make a few appearances, or we’ll fail.” His voice contained an unintended edge.
“I’m not sure it’s that dire.” She pouted as he led her onto the floor. “Certainly not enough to risk breaking my neck on those stairs. Besides, you’re the one who disappeared on me earlier. If Hugo hadn’t come along I would’ve ruined the plan as Priscilla Reed and her priggish cousin were needling me.”
“Needling you?” The way that Lydia did? Though if Priscilla Reed was the instigator—he grimaced before bowing and taking both her hands again.
“They hate me and they were spouting rumors to goad me into doing something foolish.” She shook her head as she started to match his steps. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jay twirled her, her skirts brushing his ankles to the music. She wasn’t a bad partner. He’d expected a lot worse. He’d assumed she’d try to lead or purposefully step on his toes, but no, she was flawless and uninhibited, like she was at the spinet.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said.
“You sound surprised.” Ursula rounded behind him.
“I’m not, I’m—it’s just I thought you were more serious, more—”
“Dull?” Her mouth turned rueful. “Just because I enjoy business and numbers doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy anything else. I’ve attended plenty of cotillions and when I developed these, the male set took a mild interest.”
To his complete astonishment, she indicated to her bosom.
“They wouldn’t necessarily speak to me and never wanted to be seen with me off the floor, but dance...” She bit her lip and flashed the falsest of grins.
She was far more self-aware than he gave her credit for, despite the display with her cousins.
“They’d be nicer to you if you flattered them more,” he said.
The music picked up. Her skirt swirled, revealing a hint of dainty ankles. “At this point it doesn’t matter. I’m who I was when I was six in their eyes, now they just have a larger forum to rehash the past. I’ve really become used to it. Why would I want to talk to them in the first place? They don’t read what I read or have anything interesting to say. They have no idea what’s going on in the world. Nothing in common whatsoever.”
Or perhaps not so self-aware. The catch was so clear in her voice, a pang of sympathy rippled through him. On instinct, he pulled her closer than the music demanded.
“Not that you’re an ideal conversationalist either,” Ursula continued. “I mean, when was the last time you read a book?”
And the pang was gone. He swung her as far from his body as possible on the next turn. Less talking, excellent. He’d just pretend she was a mute. She made him dizzier than the music. How could one person tug at his heartstrings and make him want to strangle her in the same measure?
The couples swayed and whirled on the floor, exchanging with the pair to the right. The blonde was familiar, pale and washed-out next to Ursula, but still pretty in a diaphanous way.
Jay narrowed his eyes and searched her face every time she passed. He knew her, somehow. He had to place her, or it would drive him mad. He stared and stared until he caught a glimpse of Ursula scowling at him.
“Who is she?” she asked.
“Damned if I know. We’ve met, but I can’t quite place her.”
“Reason number two hundred and fifty-seven why I shall never permit you to touch me.” Ursula’s whisper was loud enough for the entire ballroom to hear.
