“Is that the Sulton girl?”
“I heard her brother fled the country …”
“Gambling debts, they say …”
“No, no, he’s ill. Recovering in Bath …”
“She’s Lady Merrow’s companion now …”
“Living on charity …”
Louise kept her chin high, but her hands trembled slightly. Lady Merrow linked their arms firmly.
“Ignore them,” she murmured. “Gossips have the memory of a goldfish. By next week, they’ll have moved on to someone else’s misfortune.”
“She’s right.” Aaron’s voice came low near her ear. “And I won’t allow anyone to taint your name. You have my word.”
The protective fury in his tone made something warm bloom in Louise’s chest. She wanted to thank him, thank them both, but they were already being announced, and the entire ballroom turned to stare.
The theme had been executed magnificently. Crystal chandeliers had been adorned with glass icicles that caught and scattered light like frozen stars. White silk draped the walls, and silver trees created intimate alcoves for conversation. It was like stepping into a winter fairy tale.
“Calborough! Finally decided to grace us with your presence!”
A man approached them with the easy confidence of old friendship. Tall and fair, where Aaron was dark, with laughing blue eyes that took in their party with obvious appreciation.
“Wilstone.” Aaron’s greeting held genuine warmth. “I didn’t expect to see you at an end-of-season ball.”
“Couldn’t miss the event of the winter season” The Marquess of Wilstone bowed to Lady Merrow with theatrical flair. “Lady Merrow, you grow lovelier each time I see you. Have you discovered the secret to eternal youth?”
“Flattery and good wine,” she replied, clearly charmed. “Lord Wilstone, may I present Lady Louise Burrows, my companion.”
Ernest turned his attention to Louise, and his smile widened with masculine appreciation. “Lady Louise. Aaron, you didn’t mention you were harboring such beauty in your household.”
He took Louise’s hand, bowing over it with practiced grace. “I claim the first dance. Or the second. Or all of them, if you’ll permit.”
Louise felt heat rise in her cheeks at his obvious flirtation. “You’re very kind, Lord Wilstone.”
“Ernest, please, my lady. Any companion of Lady Merrow’s must be exceptional.” His thumb brushed her gloved knuckles before releasing her hand. “And beauty such as yours deserves to be properly appreciated.”
Aaron made a sound that might have been a cough or might have been something else entirely. When Louise glanced at him, his jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Cecilia!” A voice called across the ballroom. “There you are!”
Lady Harbury approached in silver tissue that made her look like moonlight personified, Lady Densham and the Dowager Duchess of Raynsford flanking her like an army.
“If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen,” Lady Merrow said, already moving toward her friends. “Lady Louise, come. Let me show you off properly.”
Louise found herself swept away before she could respond to Ernest’s flirtation or interpret Aaron’s reaction. The group of dowagers surrounded her with surprising warmth.
“Oh, my dear, that gown!” the Dowager Duchess of Raynsford clasped her hands together. “You look absolutely luminous!”
“Like a snow nymph,” Lady Harbury agreed. “Every man in the room is staring.”
“Let them stare,” Lady Densham said crisply. “Looking costs nothing.”
“Speaking of looking,” the Dowager Duchess of Raynsford turned and waved imperiously. “Duncan! Catherine! Come here immediately!”
A couple approached, and Louise recognized the Duke of Raynsford from the society pages. Tall and imposing, with golden brown eyes that missed nothing. His wife was lovely in emerald silk, with an open, friendly face that immediately put Louise at ease.
