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In just that moment, Lady Adaira glanced up and spotted me. Smiling, she dipped into a perfect curtsy - and then winked at me.
She winked at me.
Oh, that was too much! She was…she was…
…impressive? Admirable?
No! No, horrible! Outrageous! A disrespectful, mad little imp!
The difference to you being?
I’m sure I would have found a satisfactory answer to that question if not at that very moment, the musicians had started playing, and Mr Ambrose had swept his sister off onto the dancefloor.
Oh my God.
He could dance.
I mean really dance.
The other guests were just as stunned as I. They drew back in hushed silence as he and Adaira whirled across the parquet, dancing with the grace and elegance of two professional dancers. They were like fire and ice, like water and stone. She moved with a fae-like fluidity, he with a precision that calculated every step, every twitch of every muscle. And I?
For just one moment, I didn’t feel envy or anger or anything like that. I saw the light in her eyes, and the intensity with which Mr Ambrose looked at her. He might not have always been the big brother she wanted or needed. He might have been far away for years upon years. But Rikkard Ambrose always paid his debts. This was his apology. His way of saying sorry without uttering a word. Tonight, he made her shine, for all the world to see.
Dammit! Where had my blasted anger gone? Where was my desire to strangle her?
Things weren’t any better than they had been ten minutes ago. All right, so he wasn’t dancing with a mercenary little witch who wanted to snatch him away from me, but so what? He wasn’t dancing with me, either, and by the looks of it, he had no desire to do so. There was only one thing left for me to do. Only one thing that would soothe my wounded heart and make me feel marginally better.
Slowly, the other couples began to join them on the dancefloor. As the ballroom started to fill with music, the sound of dancing feet and flowing silk, I retreated into a corner. Inconspicuously, I slid my hand into my dress and pulled out my salvation.
‘I knew it,’ I sighed. ‘I knew I was going to need this.’
And I took a big bite from my emergency solid chocolate ration.
*~*~**~*~*
In general, balls were just about the most sophisticated form of torture you could have devised for me. They inflicted a maximum of suffering with a minimum of screaming and broken bones. This ball was a little different. Usually, I was in the company of my aunt, who insisted on towing me onto the dancefloor and thrusting me into the arms of partners she considered suitable. This time, I was without such a lovely, helpful companion. Plus, due to Lady Samantha’s matchmaking preparations, there were plenty of young ladies present who were much more eligible than me, and the fact that most of them were also eligible for the hag-of-the-year award didn’t seem to deter most of the gentlemen present. Many of the young officers especially, all younger sons who had gone into the army because of a lack of inheritance, were looking for an heiress to catch - which I was most definitely not.
So, for once, I was being left alone. I could sit peacefully in my corner and munch my solid chocolate. Nobody even approached to ask me to dance. How great! I was being left in peace for once in my life. Wonderful. Fantastic. Stupendously, remarkably marvellous. I was so lucky tonight.
Nnng! Lilly, who are you trying to fool?
Without my being able to prevent it, my eyes slid to the dancefloor, searching. But in vain. If Mr Ambrose was still there, he was hidden by the whirling figures of dozens of other guests, having the time of their life. Smiles shone everywhere. Here and there, a happy laugh rose over the crowd. Everything seemed to sparkle with that very special golden shine that only a happy gathering at Christmas could produce.
A gathering I wasn’t part of.
Merry Christmas, Lilly. Very merry Christmas.
Sighing in misery, I took another bite of solid chocolate.
The night dragged on. Once in a while, the dance music ceased and the dancers could rest their feet while the musicians struck up a popular carol. Some people were so merry, they actually sang along. Personally, I didn’t particularly feel like singing about joy and good cheer. If there were a carol about misery, murder and mayhem…now that would have been a different thing.
I thought the night had reached its all-time low - and then my solid chocolate ran out. It was like a dagger through my battered heart. For a moment, I considered leaving. But then I caught a glance of Lady Samantha through the press of people. I couldn’t run out on her! Whatever might be said about her son, The Marchioness Ambrose had been nothing but kind to me during my stay at Battlewood. Leaving her Christmas party after my male alter ego had specifically asked for me to be invited and she had agreed against all odds, would be unaccountably rude. And while I had no problems with being rude to most of the world
’s population, she was a definite exception.
Finally, the candles started to burn low, and a liveried servant stepped in front of the musicians to announce the last dance. I sighed. In relief? In pain? I didn’t really know. Either way, it was good that all this would soon be over. Maybe in sleep, I would be able to forget how much my heart was aching.
I was just about to rise and make my way to the door when a hand suddenly came down to rest on my shoulder. A strong, hard, familiar hand.
