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“Will you forgive me if I leave early?” Ames asked, his face screwed up. This was not a scene in which he felt comfortable, regardless of how well he appeared to fit in.
Amelia leaned over, snaking an arm around Giulia’s shoulder. “She has friends.”
The statement was meant to encourage Ames, but it also did its part to comfort Giulia. He bowed to them both before snaking through the crowds and leaving the ballroom.
“You were correct in your assumptions, I assume,” Amelia said, arranging the skirts of her black gown around her knees. The stark contrast of black against her milky skin and copper hair was sharp and elegant.
“Indeed.” Giulia craned her neck, attempting to find the men in the receiving line and failing. She turned her attention to watching the dancers, instead. “Ames is to marry another woman.”
“Does it pain you?”
“No. My father would have liked for us to marry, and neither of us had any objections to the scheme. But while we cared for one another, we were never in love. Ames has found that now, and I do not fault him for it.”
Amelia nodded, understanding.
Giulia smiled wryly. “Though, perhaps he could have directed me to Halstead differently—no, I do not mean that. I am not sure I would have forged a relationship with my uncle had I simply arrived with a desire to know him better. My survival instincts kept me at Halstead, and I am glad the situation forced us together.”
Amelia shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “I suppose I ought to be glad too, for it brought you to us.”
A tall, handsome man with chestnut-brown hair and a Grecian nose stepped before them, causing both women to startle.
“Good evening, Charles,” Amelia said smoothly. “Allow me to introduce my friend, Miss Giulia Pepper.”
The man bowed over her hand. “How do you do, Miss Pepper?”
“Giulia, this is Mr. Charles Fremont. He is good friends with my brother and a cousin to our dear Mabel.”
“Good evening, Mr. Fremont,” Giulia said, dipping her head in response. “Welcome to Halstead.”
“Thank you. I am much obliged.” He turned, gesturing to the decor with a swiveling wrist. “It is a magnificent design, Miss Pepper. Simply stunning.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Amelia,” Mr. Fremont said with caution as he turned toward the beauty in black, “I was hoping you would partner me in the quadrille. I believe it is coming up shortly.”
“Oh, that I could,” Amelia said with false melancholy, “but I am in mourning, as you see, and I think it very improper to dance while one is in mourning.”
Giulia shot Amelia a sideways glance.
“Perhaps next time?” Mr. Fremont asked, undeterred.
“Perhaps,” Amelia replied, noncommittally.
Mr. Fremont nodded and walked away, and Amelia gave way to slight laughter.
“Whatever was that about?” Giulia asked when the man was out of earshot.
“He is horrid. He has been after me since we were children. I think it irks him that I’ve married three men in my young life and none of them were him. He’d like to make himself the fourth Mr. Amelia Fawn.”
“I see,” Giulia said, feeling sorry for the man. “And does he stand a chance?”
“Not on this green earth,” Amelia said before hiding her chuckle behind a fan.
Amelia quickly recovered and went on to educate Giulia on the local gentry, pointing out who they were and then expounding on the gossip each person had connected with their name.
When she arrived at the fair-haired beauty who was being led about the dance floor fluidly by Nick, Giulia felt her spine stiffen.
“That is Fleur Lamont.”
