Rose faced the ballroom. This particular spinster’s corner was exceptionally advantageous. The raised tier gave them the height to see most of the dancers. She nodded toward a tall man in a silver waistcoat and cravat who stood near one of the refreshment tables. “Denis Northey, that loathsome blond who is scoping out potential victims while he pretends to like lemonade, is the primary one to watch. My sources tell me he’s actually bragged in one of the gaming hells about the number of vi—” Rose broke off, turned to face Ann, and lowered her voice, whispering in her friend’s ear. “The number of virgins he’s deflowered.”
Ann’s eyes shot wide. “You cannot be serious! And he is a nobleman?”
Rose took a deep breath. “No title. Second or third son, probably headed for the military if he doesn’t marry up. Ruining an heiress would be the fastest way for that to happen. He’s a thorough degenerate.”
Ann’s cheeks tinged pink as she began to get into the topic of the evening. “Who else?”
“You know the whisperedon-ditis that the Ashton brothers will be here.”
Ann pursed her lips. “So I have heard. I have yet to see them, but I have been here only a short time.” Ann paused. “The marquess is the one who used to live next to you? The one you used to talk about?”
Rose waved that thought away, her gaze shifting toward her mother, who stood alone with one of her friends.Where was Cecily?“Yes, but that was a long time ago.”
“Memories of childhood do linger.”
Rose’s eyes snapped back toward Ann. “Thomas Ashton is a scoundrel of the highest order. And rough. He frequents the boxing salons, and he beat a man with a cane earlier this year.”
“I remember. Didn’t the sheets call him a name after that?” Ann peered over Rose’s shoulder, her gaze roaming the dance floor as the last notes of the minuet sounded.
“Duke Wolfsbane. Although he’s not the duke yet.” She frowned. “Surely, he won’t bring that cane to a dance. They are supposed to be here supporting their sister’s debut. Beth is a sweet girl, same age as Cecily, but I would not trust any of her brothers with my sister.”
Ann cleared her throat. “Actually, you may be a little late on that score.” She nodded, directing Rose toward the far side of the ballroom.
Rose spun in the chair, and her eyes narrowed as she watched Thomas Ashton escort Cecily back to Dorothea and bow low to both ladies. A growl formed in Rose’s throat as she stood.
Ann grabbed at her arm. “Rose! He has not done anything. It’s too early to make a scene.”
Rose’s lips curled as she pulled away. “Never too early.”
“Do not do this!”
Ann lunged for her again but missed, and Rose headed toward Lord Newbury with a determined focus and as much speed as her slippers would allow on the marble floor. She dodged around a cluster of ladies and barely missed tripping a footman with a tray of beverages before catching up with him as he reached for a cup of lemonade. She poked him hard in the back, her fingertip prodding him just below his shoulder blade.
Newbury jumped, the lemonade sloshing around in the cup. “What the dev—”
“You!” Rose kept her voice low but it rushed out on a strangled hiss.
He turned to look down on her and his eyebrows arched. “I beg your pardon.”
“You need to stay away from my sister.”
He blinked, his dark eyes narrowing in confusion. One unruly lock of black hair escaped and dropped down on his forehead. “Your sister. Who is...?”
Rose stiffened.He doesn’t recognize me!Her chest tightened a bit at the thought but she did not relent. “Lady Cecily Timmons. She’s young and sweet and kind and everything you are not. I know very well what you have been up to the past decade, and you should be ashamed to show your face in polite company. You will not ruin her.”
“That was not my plan, no.” He straightened his shoulders and set down the lemonade, pausing before turning to her, leaning closer, towering over her. “Wait. If Lady Cecily is your sister, then you must be—”
“Rose? Rose Timmons?”
Rose started at the voice from behind her and turned. Lord Robert Ashton stood there, a grin of mischievous charm on his face, his blue eyes shining. “Robert?”
He held his arms wide. “The same. I’m surprised to see you. I figured by now you would be married off to some duke of the north country with a half dozen children.”
Rose tried to maintain her fury, but found it hard when they actually had not done anything. One dance. And Thomas had delivered Cecily back to her mother as a perfect gentleman would. Then there was that blasted grin on Robert’s face, the look of an impish schoolboy. Age had not dimmed his charm one whit. Rose felt her ire fading. “That’s not my destiny, I’m afraid.”
Robert shook his head. “That’s too bad. You would be a great mother. So what are you doing here, especially with my scandalous brother?”
“Warning men to stay away from her sister, apparently.” Newbury’s voice held a touch of mirth. “And poking them with a stiletto when they get too close.”
