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Chapter Three
“Aurora, you’ve caughtthe attention of the handsomest man in the room,” her friend, Justine de Veres, whispered as they stood amid the crush of guests in Lady Dexter’s glittering ballroom.
“What man?” she absently asked, having yet to gather her composure after meeting Perin Marsh. She had met him for the first time only yesterday but felt as though she had known him all her life. It was such an odd feeling to have this strong connection to a man who was no more than a stranger to her.
“He is standing by the balcony doors.” Justine pinched her hand. “Look! I wonder who he is? Perhaps Lady Dexter’s nephew come down from the Highlands? He has that rugged look about him. Or perhaps the old bat has taken on a lover.”
“Don’t be crass, Justine. Lady Dexter is a lovely woman and devoted to her husband.”
Her friend shrugged. “When did you get so boring? You must admit, he does have that bedroom look about him. Oh, the naughty boy. He’s looking at you again.”
Aurora finally turned to see what all the fuss was about, not to meet this man but to avoid him should he approach her. “I don’t see him. Did he leave?”
While the men in her family were tall, that trait did not carry down to their female offspring. She was of average height. In truth, on the small side of average, and could not see above the crush of guests standing between her and those balcony doors.
Not that it mattered.
Justine did not have very good taste in men, and they never found the same ones attractive. She fixed her gaze instead on Lady Dexter as her husband led her onto the dance floor to open their magnificent Snow Ball to the polite applause of all in attendance.
Their ballroom had been transformed into a glittering ice palace to mark the start of the Christmas festivities that would now take place all over London as families gathered to celebrate.
Justine nudged her. “Do you see him now?”
“No, for pity’s sake.” She did not want to hear any more about that bedroom fellow. If only Perin Marsh were here, but he could not possibly be in attendance. No invitation was more sought after by society’s elite than the one to Lady Dexter’s Snow Ball.
Since Aurora’s father was Tynan Brayden, Earl of Westcliff, her family was among the first to receive their invitations. Most of her uncles were peers of the realm, and those who were not were highly decorated military heroes and much sought after, so they had been invited as well. Indeed, she was related to many of the guests.
It gave her comfort to know she could look anywhere and find a familiar face, for this was her first ball, and she had never been to any function quite so splendid.
Perhaps this was why she sensed something magical in the air.
“Did you see him, Aurora?” Harriet, another friend, rushed over and began to titter like a mad, little bird. “Is he not gorgeous? Rodrick and his friends say they are going to punch him in the nose if he dares approach you. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”
Justine joined in the laughter. “I do hope we see fists fly.”
“No!” Dear heaven, that would be appalling. How many times did she have to rebuff that oaf before he left her alone? “I’ll punch Rodrick and his arrogant friends if they dare.”
The charm of this ball was quickly fading. It was a terrible shame, for Lady Dexter had obviously worked hard to create the lovely effect of a winter palace. As though on command, snow was falling outside, the night sky covered with soft, white flakes. Some were caught in the breeze and wafted in the air, while others fell to the cold, crisp ground like bits of cotton. The effect was entrancing. “Does it not look as though we are trapped in a snow globe?”
Her friends ignored her, grabbed glasses of champagne off the tray of a passing footman, and continued to whisper about that man.
Harriet gulped down the champagne. “I want him. He is too luscious to pass up.”
Justine finished her glass of champagne and grabbed another. “If Aurora will not have him, then I want him first.”
Did they think their behavior was anything but crass?
She remarked on it.
“Don’t be a goose,” Justine said with a derisive smirk. She leaned over to Harriet, and the two of them began whispering, making more lewd comments about what they wished to do with the stranger, so that she almost felt sorry for the man. But not all that sorry. Who was this supposed Adonis they were both fighting over? Probably some degenerate lord, born of privilege and having nothing better to do than seduce young ladies at society balls.
Nor did her friends appear to have anything on their minds but to allow themselves to be seduced.
Aurora tried not to look shocked, but she was.
Justine suddenly gasped and gripped her arm. “He is coming toward us.”
Both friends once more drunkenly tittered and began to fuss with the bodice of their silk gowns. All the ladies were required to wear white, while the men were in black ties and tails. Lace, ribbons, and pearl adornments were permitted for the ladies, but only if they were white. The object was for the women to look like snowflakes.
