The whispers seemed to grow louder.
Air. I needed air.
I forced my way through the thick crush of people to the balcony. The cool night air hit my face, and tears stung my eyes. My hands shook as I grabbed the balustrade, and I tilted my head toward the sky.
I wouldnotcry.
The only thing that could make this night worse would be to have red, puffy eyes at dinner. A dinner that I’d planned to enjoy at Ollie’s side but would now have to watch instead.
I tore the lavender sprig from my hair and dropped it to the ground. Tonight was supposed to be the beginning of everything but instead—
“There you are, Miss Kent.”
Damon. His eyes sunk to the sprig of lavender at my feet.
I groaned inwardly. He was perhaps the only person who could make this night worse. Had he sought me out to gloat? To tease me?
Behind him, a cluster of young women craned their necks to see who the future earl was speaking to.
An audience. Delightful.
“Miss Kent,” he said again, and more loudly than necessary. “I have come to claim my set.”
Hisset? “I beg your pardon but—”
“Are you feeling faint?” Damon interrupted my sentence without apology. He stepped close and said quietly, “The only way to silence the whispers that have already begun to circulate is if we give them something more interesting to talk about. Now take my arm and do try not to frown as I lead you to the dance floor.”
I nodded in understanding, and then said, loudly enough so others could overhear, “Iwasfeeling a little flushed, but I am recovered now.”
“I am glad to hear it. I have been waiting all evening to dance with you.” Damon led me inside.
Earlier I may have imagined a dozen pairs of eyes on me, but as Damon—the most eligible young man in attendance—led me to the dance floor, I knew they were on me for certain. I guessed from his open disdain that Damon didn’t dance at balls often. After all, he’d been compelled to dance the first set with Miss Atherton.
Miss Atherton!
She would think I had lied to her about not having any interest in Damon. I would have to explain to her exactly what had happened—embarrassing as it would be. She had been kind to me, and I did not want to hurt her or, worse, make an enemy.
Damon did not stop moving until we stood at the front of the ballroom.
Other couples quickly joined us, each person studying me—the woman who had lured Damon out of the card room for a dance. They took formation around us, not in a line but rather a square.
A quadrille, I realized with horror. And worse,Iwas the lead lady charged with beginning the dance—a dance I did not know.
Oh, why could it not have been a simple country dance? I could not even fake my way through the quadrille. Not with so many eyes on me. Not without embarrassing myself and my hosts. Not without being a discredit to Mama.
While we waited for the other squares to assemble, I searched for some means of escape. But onlooking chaperones blocked the ballroom door, and the balcony was not even visible through all the unpartnered bystanders.
“Looking for Ollie undermines the purpose of our dancing together,” Damon said quietly.
“I wasn’t looking for Ollie.”
He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“I was searching for an escape.”
“Am I really so loathsome?” Damon said.
“Yes. I mean no.” I clenched my jaw, frustrated my words would not come out correctly. “Damon, I cannot do this. I can’t dance the quadrille.”
