Lady Caroline beamed. “Excellent.”
Esther turned to him and smiled. “With Dr. Wang as my escort.”
The silence that followed was thick and telling.
Lady Caroline’s lips parted, just slightly, before she schooled her expression. “Oh.” Another forced smile. “Well, I—Of course.”
The other two women’s gazes flickered between Esther and himself, assessing. They shifted on their feet while sporting stiff smiles. Obviously uncomfortable, but not wanting to antagonize a countess.
Lady Caroline recovered quickly. “We must be off, but we shall see you soon, I hope.”
With another brief nod toward Wang—distantly polite but utterly dismissive—they strolled away.
Esther watched them go, expression unreadable. Then, slipping the card into her pocket, she turned to Wang.
“I shall only attend if you escort me,” she said.
Wang exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Esther, that is a terrible idea.”
She raised a brow. “You sound like you doubt my social prowess.”
“I doubt their willingness to accept me,” he said frankly.
She tilted her head, lips curving mischievously. “Then I shall teach them some manners. Lady Caroline is the daughter of an earl, but she married a man of industry. She, of all people, shouldn’t be so haughty.”
“Wealth can cover a lack of aristocratic pedigree. But they will never accept me in the world you belong to.”
Her smile softened. “There’s no world I wish to belong to that doesn’t include you.”
Her fierce loyalty speared his heart. He had expected no less from her. But he feared it was the world that was about to teach her a lesson.
He studied her for a long moment, his jaw tightening just slightly. “Why does this matter to you?”
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his sleeve. “Because you deserve to be included. Because there’s no finer man than you. And because I am craving a dance with you.”
He shook his head, sighing. “Then I suppose I must attend…if only to prove my point.”
Yet beneath his exasperation, a quiet wariness simmered. An unspoken warning that she was about to lead them both into a battlefield where the rules were already stacked against them.
Despite that, he would go.
Because there was no battle he wouldn’t fight for her.
CHAPTER 19
Thedayoftheball arrived with surprising swiftness. Focused on continuing with her therapies as she was, she had barely had enough time to have a suitable ball gown made. In London, she would have known exactly where to go, but it was different in New York. Fortunately, Margaret proved invaluable in helping her locate a suitable dressmaker.
When the dress had arrived that morning, it had taken her breath away. It was a beautiful confection of blue silk, with a glittering bodice beaded with crystals and pearls. She hadn’t worn anything so beautiful in years. Maybe never. But for this occasion, she had wanted—needed—something grand. Impressive. She needed to dazzle these high-nosed Americans into accepting Wang. If she had her better jewelry with her, she would have worn it tonight. Alas, her diamond and sapphire necklace had remained in London, but her pearls would do for tonight. The gown was magnificent armor. And this was a battle she was determined to win.
The widening of Kai’s eyes, the sheer appreciation in its dark depths as she appeared at the top of the stairs, told her the gown was causing the desired effect.
“You look stunning,” he said, climbing the stairs at a clip, not once taking his eyes off her. He stopped a step beneath her, taking her hand to place a kiss on her satin-gloved palm. She felt the warmth of his breath through the fabric, and goosebumps all along her arms.
“Thank you. You look very sharp yourself,” she whispered.
He took her breath away in his evening attire. His well-tailored suit accentuated the lean strength of his frame, the dark silk of his cravat a stark contrast to the crisp white of his collar, while the ice blue waistcoat provided a beautiful complement to her own gown. If they had planned to coordinate their attire, it couldn’t have turned out more perfectly.
He had combed his dark hair back, accentuating his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. She wondered how long it would take for his rebellious lock of hair to escape the control of the pomade. She looked forward to it falling over his brow.
