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I was suddenly glad I hadn’t heard from Harry since the kiss. Clearly he’d decided to pretend it never happened. That was the best thing for me to do too.
If only it hadn’t felt so wonderful, it might be easier to ignore it. But the more I tried not to think about him, and the way he’d responded to the kiss, the more I did think about it.
Miss Livingstone appeared to be doing her best to ignore the gossips. She continued to smile sweetly at those around her, as if she were slightly removed from them. It wasn’t until Lady Bunbury approached that she came to life. She straightened and lifted her chin. She gave Lady Bunbury a small curtsy as she passed, as if she were the queen.
Lady Bunbury failed to notice. She was glaring at her husband, as if willing him to look at her. The gentleman and lady she’d spoken to at the painting had dispersed. The lady was nowhere to be seen, but I caught sight of the man through the door on the landing outside the ballroom. He was a handsome fellow, perhaps early thirties, with an air of confidence about him as he strode towards a tall potted palm. A rather pretty maid stood there, her face lifting when she spotted the gentleman. They spoke and he handed her something before they parted. She limped off along the corridor while he returned to the ballroom where he fell into conversation with a group of young ladies who fluttered their eyelashes at him, hanging on his every word.
“Who is that?” I asked Jonathon, still standing beside me.
“Ambrose McDonald.” He made a sound of disgust in his throat. “Don’t set your heart on him, Cleo. He’s a cad.” He nodded at another gentleman, standing alone. He was Ambrose McDonald’s opposite in every way. Short, overweight, with protruding front teeth and spotty skin. “Poor Cuthbert Calthorne. He can’t win tonight. He continues to get snubbed by every girl he asks to dance. Can’t blame them. He has the biggest feet. Imagine getting trod on by those hooves!”
Cuthbert Calthorne suddenly looked our way as if he sensed we were talking about him. He self-consciously looked away but then turned back to us. Or, rather, he turned to look at me. With a determined tug on his cuffs, he headed my way.
Jonathon swore under his breath.
Mr. Calthorne greeted him amiably and bowed to Miss Hessing and me. “Introduce me to your delightful friends, Hartly.”
Jonathon obliged then added, “Miss Fox has just agreed to dance with me.”
Mr. Calthorne’s smile slipped.
“I didn’t,” I pointed out.
Jonathon asked to see my dance card. I obliged with a frown. He perused it then wrote down his name with the attached pencil. “If my name is there, you have to dance with me. Calthorne, you’ll need to find another partner.”
There was an available partner right beside me, but Mr. Calthorne merely bowed and made his excuses. He walked off.
Miss Hessing went very still. The snub was cruel indeed, and I knew she would feel it keenly. I wanted to tell her to ignore Mr. Calthorne, that he was not worthy of her, but I knew she would consider them empty words, even though I meant every one. Mr. Calthornewasbeneath her.
“There you are!” Floyd joined us, breaking up the tension with his easy manner. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
At first I thought he was talking to Jonathon, but he bowed to Miss Hessing. “If you’re not otherwise engaged, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
She stared at him, her eyes huge and clear. “M—me?”
“If you don’t mind me stepping on your toes, that is. I’m a terrible dancer.”
“Oh. I’d be happy to dance with you, Mr. Bainbridge.”
He grinned. “Excellent.” He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. Your pretty shoes will be scuffed by the end.”
She blinked up at him as if he’d just rescued her from drowning. In a way, he had.
“He’s a good man,” Jonathon said. “It’s no wonder all the wallflowers love him. He should be careful, though. If he dances too many times with them, the better prospects will grow tired of waiting.” He held out his hand to me. “Shall we?”
I opened my dance card and struck a line through his name. “I’m afraid you’re not on my card, Jonathon. It’s probably just as well. If the other gentlemen see me dancing three times with you, they’ll grow tired of waiting.” I turned and walked off. I didn’t care what affect my comment had on him. I was quite sure his ego could cope with it.
I couldn’t find Flossy, so I stood near the door and observed. My first society ball was proving to be a little disappointing. The young men were either immature or dull, the girls desperate for attention, and their parents grasping. Everyone was out to impress in one way or another. Most of them directed their efforts towards Lady Bunbury. She was very popular with the girls and their mothers, all hoping to win her favor. She was the consummate hostess, however, giving them equal attention.
A lady passing me delighted in telling her companion about the daughter of a peer who’d been caught kissing a fellow behind a tree at a flower show.
“Lady Bunbury won’t choose her now,” the companion said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Speaking of Lady Bunbury, she looked very cross earlier. Do you know why?”
They continued on and I settled back against the wall, growing more and more bored by the minute. I was beginning to wish I’d danced with Jonathon after all when an acquaintance of Floyd’s approached and asked me to dance. I readily accepted.
I didn’t stop dancing until supper was announced. All the guests headed through to the room where it was being served, only to find we had to queue for food. I joined Flossy at the back.
