“Would this be one of those parties?” she asked.
He twisted his mouth wryly and cleared his throat instead of answering. She liked the smell of him, deep cedar and fall leaves and tobacco.
“Do you reside here in Chicago?” he asked. “Surely not. I’ve never seen you before.”
“Just visiting,” she said. “But I’d like to see more of the city someday. Which I will now always associate with this kindness.” She curtsied to him as the song came to an end.
“I don’t know your name,” he said, bowing to her.
“Grace,” she said.
“I’m Theodore,” he said.
She loved that he wasn’t conventionally handsome, the way the port-wine stain skimmed along his right jaw line and curled up toward his mouth.
He caught her staring at it just as Oliver approached.
“May I cut in?” Oliver asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said, catching Theodore’s eye. “But I’ve drunk too much wine and I was just on my way to being sick.”
Theodore imperceptibly snorted and for a moment tightened his grip on her.
“I’m kidding,” Grace said, laughing, and she felt his hand relax. “Mr. Parker, this is my cousin, Oliver Carter of St. Louis. Oliver, while you were otherwise engaged, this kind gentleman saved me from a ghastly fate, and I’m forever indebted to him.”
“Then so am I,” Oliver said, extending his hand. “Mr. Parker.”
“Theodore,” he corrected, taking Oliver’s hand with a solemn expression. His dark eyes had a depth to them, his jaw like cut glass.
She felt a lightning bolt in her belly as he looked at her. There was a weightiness about him that suggested he didn’t smile much, but that when he did, it was a prize worth the effort it took to win.
“Thank you for the dance,” he said, bowing to her. “It was a lovely diversion, and now I’m afraid I’ve been promised elsewhere.”
She felt the disappointment settle in her body as he left them and made his way over to a group of ladies, including Frannie Allred, who had been staring in their direction. She immediately glanced away.
“And are we making any inroads with the talented Miss Forbes?” Grace asked Oliver, falling into step with her cousin easily. They’d been dancing together for twelve years, since she was ten and he was nearing thirteen. Being with him was like coming home.
He groaned. “Somehow I turn from my handsome charming self into an uncontrollable blathering oaf whenever I’m near her.”
“She must have a penchant for blathering oafs, then,” Grace said, glancing over his shoulder, “as she’s coming this way now.”
He flushed a little and she found it endearing. With his name, wealth, and good looks, he’d always erred dangerously close to becoming a rake, and she’d never known him to be this nervous around a lady before.
“And what of you, cousin?” he asked. “No one has pecked you to death yet?”
“Miss Allred certainly tried.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I’ve never understood why Lillie deigns to be friends with her.”
“Lillie is an angel who is friends with everyone,” Grace said.
“Even us,” Oliver said, dipping her.
“Even us,” Grace said, laughing. He twirled her, and her dress spun at her ankles, and she decided that she was glad that she had come. Perhaps someday she would meet a man who saw her for who she was, without the trappings of the family name her mother had thrown away, her father’s honorable hard work that somehow made him pitiable, her cousins’ elevated reputation, the tragic choices her brother had made. Perhaps someone would simply see her—passionate and loyal and sharp-tongued, with a strong nose she’d never particularly liked and aristocratic cheekbones she’d inherited from her late grandmother.
She was secretly glad to feel beautiful in her own skin tonight. For the dress Lillie had made for her, and the flowers she had pinned in her honey-plaited hair. Almost nothing she wore that evening belonged to her, but she felt a pleasant confidence finally returning that was all her own.
Which is why she was surprised by the way her stomach dipped just a little when she observed the intimate way in which Theodore was speaking to Frannie Allred. Glancing over at her, then sharply looking away.
