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“Then we shall attempt to find you more partners.” As I said it, I smiled at two passing gentlemen.
They stopped and asked us to dance. I accepted the offer from the shorter one, since the taller fellow was more of a match for Miss Hessing’s height. My partner was pleasant enough and I enjoyed the dance.
Until I noticed Jonathon watching me from the edge of the ballroom. I hadn’t seen him arrive.
When he saw me looking, he smiled and made a little hand signal, indicating writing on my dance card. Not wanting to appear rude, I nodded back.
When the music ended, I asked my partner to escort me off the floor in the opposite direction to Jonathon. Miss Hessing and her partner joined us, and the four of us conversed for a few minutes before the men declared they were both engaged to dance with other women.
Miss Hessing watched them leave from beneath lowered lashes. “It was kind of him to take pity on me.”
“He didn’t dance with you out of pity. Didn’t you notice his smile as he led you off? He seemed quite pleased.”
She sighed. “He only danced with me because you took the other one.”
“Nonsense. Look. He just turned and smiled at you.”
Her cheeks flushed and she dipped her head to hide her face. “Oh!”
I surreptitiously looked around for Jonathon, wanting to avoid him if he approached. I saw Flossy heading our way, her steps purposeful, her eyes bright with the gossip she wanted to impart.
“Have you noticed?” she said when she reached us.
“Noticed what?” I asked.
“Amelia Livingstone isn’t here.”
“What of it?”
She leaned in and lowered her voice, forcing us to lean in too to hear her over the music. “Meredith Druitt-Poore says the invitations were sent out weeks ago, before the scandal. Miss Livingstone had accepted. But she’s not here.”
“Can you blame her? She would be the subject of gossip all evening. Everyone would stare.” Although I hadn’t liked Miss Livingstone when I met her, I still felt sorry for her. She was a young woman who should be enjoying herself, but she was enduring a self-imposed exile. She must be miserable.
Flossy glanced around then leaned in again. “Apparently she didn’t even send a note to Mrs. Druitt-Poore to say she felt unwell and couldn’t attend tonight. It’s the height of rudeness.”
Miss Hessing agreed. “A brief note should have been sent to the hostess.”
“I must admit that her absence is in our favor. She isn’t hogging all the gentlemen, leaving them free to dance with us.” Flossy grasped my hand. “Don’t look now, Cleo, but Lady Bunbury is over there, glaring at you.”
I didn’t look, but Miss Hessing did. “She has quite a fierce scowl on her face,” she said. “Did you say something to upset her, Miss Fox?”
“I, er…”
“She dislikes us,” Flossy said matter-of-factly. “Cleo discovered the Bunburys are poor, and Lady Bunbury is mortified. She’s terrified it will get out.”
I glared at Flossy, but she barreled on.
“She doesn’t realize how discreet Cleo can be.”
“Unlike some,” I muttered.
Flossy clicked her tongue. “Miss Hessing is a friend, Cleo. She won’t tell a soul, will you, Miss Hessing?”
Miss Hessing made a locking motion at the corner of her mouth and pretended to throw away the key.
Flossy patted my arm. “See? No need to worry. Oh look, here come Floyd and Jonathon. Are you up to seeing him, Cleo?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Miss Hessing asked.
