And then, miraculously, she felt strong arms catch her just before impact. She looked up into the concerned face of Lord Lucien, who had apparently materialized out of thin air to save her from a watery and fruity doom.
“Are you all right?” he asked, helping her regain her footing.
Farah nodded, too breathless to speak. She was acutely aware of every eye in the ballroom upon them, and she could practically hear the gossips sharpening their tongues.
“Oh my,” a familiar voice rang out. “Is everything all right, dear?”
Farah turned, her heart sinking, to find Mrs. Ahearn approaching, the Duke of Blackstone on her arm. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading all evening. There wasnowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She was about to be exposed as a fraud in front of the entireton.
Mrs. Ahearn’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Why, Lady Ashley! How wonderful to see you again! I was just telling your brother, Lord Wolfarth, before, how much I enjoyed our time together in Ireland.”
The silence that fell over the immediate vicinity was deafening. Farah could practically hear the gears turning in her brother’s head as he processed this information. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Ireland? Lady Ashley?” he drawled, his gaze burning into Farah. “This is my sister, Lady Farah.”
“But that can’t be right. Oh…” Mrs. Ahearn’s words trailing off as she finally understood.
“How fascinating. I wasn’t aware you’d been to Ireland recently, sister dear.”
Farah opened her mouth, though what she planned to say, she did not know. Before she could utter a sound, however, Lord Lucien stepped forward, a beaming smile on his face.
“I believe there’s been some confusion,” he said smoothly. “You see, Mrs. Ahearn, this isn’t Lady Ashley at all, but rather her dear friend, Lady Farah. A simple mistake to make, I’m sure, as they look quite similar.”
Mrs. Ahearn’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But…but I could have sworn…”
“And I’m afraid Lady Farah couldn’t possibly have been in Ireland recently,” Lucien continued, “as she’s been on her sickbed for over two weeks. But she’s recovered beautifully to host this event for me—for us. In fact—” He paused for dramatic effect, taking Farah’s hand in his. “She’s only just accepted my proposal of marriage and we’d hoped to announce it tonight after I’d spoken to His Grace.”
The ballroom erupted in a flurry of gasps and excited whispers. Farah stood frozen, her mind reeling as she tried to process what had just happened. She was vaguely aware of her brother’s thunderous expression, and of Mrs. Ahearn’s bewildered congratulations, and the curious stares from all around.
But mostly, she was aware of Lucien’s hand holding hers, warm and steady, as he smiled down at her with a warning to keep quiet.
Well, at least no one lost their trousers,Farah thought.
As if on cue, there was a commotion near the entrance, and Lord Franklin came stumbling in, his face red with drink and his breeches noticeably askew. “I thought it was Lord Ware you’re marrying. The chit can’t seem to decide who she wants. It certainly wasn’t me.”
Farah closed her eyes and silently prayed for the floor to open and swallow her whole.
It was going to be a very long night.
The Duke of Blackstone, his face a thundercloud of barely contained fury, grabbed Farah’s elbow and began steering her towards a secluded corner of the ballroom. “A word, sister dear,” he growled through clenched teeth.
Lucien, still holding Farah’s other hand, cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should discuss this privately, Your Grace. After all, we wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”
Blackstone’s glare could have melted steel, but he nodded curtly. “My study. Now.”
As they made their way through the crowded ballroom, Farah caught sight of Rockwell’s worried face. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, though she felt anything but reassured. This was going to be an absolute disaster.
Once inside the study, the duke rounded on them, his face purple with rage. “Would someone care to explain what in the blazes is going on?” he thundered.
Farah opened her mouth to speak, but Lucien beat her to it. “It’s quite simple, Your Grace. I’ve asked for Lady Farah’s hand in marriage, and she has accepted.”
The duke’s eye twitched. “Is that so? And when, pray tell, did this miraculous courtship occur? Don’t take me for a fool. How is it you were in Ireland with Lord Ware?”
“Ah, yes, about that,” Farah began, finding her voice at last. “It was all an innocent mistake. A funny story actually… I got locked in Rockwell’s trunk and thrown on his ship without his knowledge.”
If possible, her brother’s face grew even redder. “You did what?”
Farah felt her heart racing. This was it. The moment of truth. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “I was with Rockwell and we found Lucien together.”
