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“You’re welcome,” she said sarcastically.
That finally caught his attention. “Oh, sorry.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
His laugh was rough and held a note of disbelief. “I think I have.”
“I don’t—”
Victoria suddenly emerged from the crowd, dodging around a portly gentleman to reach them. “There you are.” Obviously sensing something amiss, she followed the direction of Logan’s gaze. “Oh, blast.”
“What is going on here?” Donella asked.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” Logan said.
He strode off, forging a path through the crowd to the young woman, who’d been clearly waiting for him to do just that. As he took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips, her expression seemed almost triumphant to Donella.
She, meanwhile, felt her insides curl up and began looking for a nice, dark corner to hide in.
“Whoisthat?” she asked Victoria.
“Mrs. Jeannie MacArthur, a widow from Edinburgh,” Victoria grimly replied.
“She’s . . . she’s certainly very dashing.”
The woman’s guinea-gold hair shimmered under the lights. She had enchanting, lively features and a perfect rosebud mouth. Although some might uncharitably call her short, she carried herself with elegance and grace.
She also had, if one were inclined to comment on such a thing, an ample bosom, well displayed by the fashionable but daring cut of her bodice. That Logan was also noticing Mrs. MacArthur’s bosom was quite evident.
“Apparently, she’s just come out of mourning and is now visiting with family in Glasgow,” Victoria said. “She’s also trouble—which I hoped to avoid by reaching you before Logan noticed her.”
“Too late,” Donella dryly replied.
Victoria flashed a sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry, dearest. This is an unwelcome complication.”
Donella affected a casual shrug. “Mr. Kendrick is free to associate with whomever he likes.”
“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Victoria hooked a hand through Donella’s arm. “Come on, we have to find Nicholas and the twins.”
Donella cast a glance over her shoulder as her friend towed her away. Logan was now leading Mrs. MacArthur onto the floor for the next set of dances. And by the way he was gazing at her, it was clear he’d forgotten everyone but the woman on his arm.
So much for making a declaration of courtship.
As they wended their way through the crowd, Donella did her best to ignore the curious glances that followed them. One moment, Logan had been openly flirting with her in the middle of a ballroom and the next he’d abandoned her for another woman. It was humiliating, but at the moment she simply felt numb.
With her usual brisk competence, Victoria soon had them down the staircase and into the entrance hall. Lord Arnprior was waiting there, holding their wraps and looking even more grim-faced than his wife.
“Did you find the twins?” Victoria asked.
“I sent them to fetch the carriage.”
Arnprior helped them on with their cloaks and then ushered them through the doors into the cold December night. The twins were standing beside the family’s town coach, pulled first in line.
“Here, Miss Donella,” Graeme said with a sympathetic grimace. “Let me help you.”
Mentally sighing, she took his hand and climbed into the coach. It would appear the Kendricks had also been making assumptions about her and Logan—assumptions obviously far off the mark.
Victoria came in next, followed by her husband.
