She raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow at this brazen disregard of the rules, yet she didn’t protest. “Very well.”
She allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. They joined hands and began to spin in perfect step to “Valse Romantique.”
“Tell me something about yourself,” he asked.
“There’s nothing you don’t already know—or haven’t you heard of my million-dollar dowry?”
Lord, but she was forthright. Rather than feel insulted, Giles afforded her that same courtesy. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
A lesser woman might’ve faltered at such a frank admission, but not her. Miss Thurston Reid rounded a corner of the ballroom in perfect grace.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said, “but are you educated?”
She nodded. “Miss Brown’s School for Young Ladies. If I grow bored of being a belle, perhaps a semester or two at Vassar College might liven things up for me.”
“You want to attend university?”
She shrugged. “I want everything.”
Spoiled creature. “No doubt you expect to get it—everything, that is. I wager you’ve something like a shopping list with boxes to tick for your many accomplishments.”
“Certainly! Shall I boast of them to you? Between diamonds from Tiffany and frocks from Emile Pingat, I desire a degree in economics and a career in diplomacy.”
“Were you an English deb, you’d hope for nothing more than a house in London and a husband’s indulgence.”
“I want that, too.”
She smiled and Giles sighed. “In a simpler world, there’d be no need for this…grasping.”
“Oh, yes. We’d all fall neatly into place.”
“Falling into place is the English way. You’ll learn that if ever you come over.”
She laughed openly, as though he’d told a great joke. “I am obliged to you for the warning. I’ll be certain to lower my expectations to suit your societyifI decide to come over.”
“Respectfully, Miss Thurston Reid, I am not the one queuing for an invitation to Mrs. Astor’s ballroom, fighting to catch the eye of some titled bachelor.” Never mind the fact that hewasthat desperate, titled bachelor.
“Then let’s return to the matter at hand,” she said. “Shall we continue our interview?”
“By all means.” He looked her over while they continued to dance. “You’ve a fine figure. Are you in good health?”
“As healthy as a horse, and I’ve got all my teeth, too.” She flashed her dentition.
“Good God, are you trying to frighten me off?”
“I’m only trying to make you laugh, my lord. You’re a somber waltzing partner.”
Giles refused to rise to that barb. He allowed the conversation to fall silent, leaving her to struggle and grope awkwardly for something to say.
In the end, she surprised him. “I find this insulting—queuing, chasing, and grasping, as you put it. Four hundred girls vying for one man, just because you’re titled and British. Just because your family was ancient by the time mine crawled off the boat. I’m rich, educated, and put-together, yet in New York, I’m just another face in the crowd. I feel certain, were I in England, things would be different…”
“Certainly.” She wouldn’t know anyone, wouldn’t be invited anywhere. Oh, she’d catch a husband, for she was pretty and chatty, and some men liked that sort of thing in a woman, but her prize would be a duller specimen than he.
Not every jewel needed polish to shine, but as his wife…
She never let him finish the thought. “Now let me interview you, my lord.”
“Very well.” Giles was content to play along.
