‘Are you certain?’ She half turned her head, feeling unaccountably dizzy all of a sudden.
‘Positive.’ He inhaled, as if he was breathing in her scent, freshly washed with a new floral soap that Jane had given her, before moving back to her side, his eyes seeming even darker than usual. ‘Now let’s go to the ball.’
Lord and Lady Octavian Jenners’ Summer Rose Ball was an annual event, and notorious crush, hosted in their MountStreet townhouse. It was attended, as Cassie had repeatedly commented, by everyone who was anyone, and marked the beginning of the final week of the Season, after which members of thetongradually dispersed to their country estates for the rest of the summer, either to celebrate their successes or lick their wounds, as the case depended.
It was not, Florence reflected, as she climbed down from the carriage, the kind of event at which she would ever have been the focus of attention before. On the contrary, she would have walked in behind the Wadlows, then sat patiently with the chaperones on the sidelines, ready to fetch drinks or keep Amabel company whenever she didn’t have a partner. She might occasionally have danced, if an acquaintance had asked her, but she would have been perfectly happy as an observer too. Frankly, the idea of being noticed would have terrified her.
It still did, so much so that she was seriously considering expelling the contents of her stomach onto the pavement.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ Leo sounded worried.
‘Yes.’ She pulled her spine straighter, putting on a look of bravado. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘No reason, except that your hand is shaking and you’re as white as a sheet.’ He moved a step closer, blocking her from the view of those people gathered in front of the house. ‘We can still change our minds, if you wish?’
‘No.’ She gulped. ‘We’ve come this far. We should at least show our faces. Then it’ll be done.’
‘Very well. In that case, let’s get it over with.’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake, stop looking so glum, the pair of you!’ Cassie thrust her face between them. ‘It’s a ball, not a public hanging. We’re going to have a wonderful evening, I’ve already decided.’
‘Well, in that case, how can we argue?’ Leo gave Florence a teasing smile.
She tried to smile back, but it was impossible. The very moment they entered the crowded vestibule she was aware of a low murmur running around the room, closely followed by a sea of heads turning in their direction. She swallowed hard, feeling as if she were being pierced by hundreds of stares, as she handed her cloak to a waiting attendant. Leo, on the other hand, exuded total calm, keeping his own eyes fixed straight ahead, seemingly unperturbed by all the attention. Of course, the combination of his dark good looks and title meant that he was used to it, she thought with a degree of jealousy, but it was a whole new experience for her. And yet this was what she’d agreed to, a fitting punishment for what she’d done, allowing herself to be gaped at and judged by the very people whose ranks she’d tricked her way into. Her only consolation was that, after this, facing them would never be so terrible again. Hopefully.
By the time their names were announced at the entrance to the ballroom, her legs were trembling so violently, she wished that a hole would open up in the floor so she could jump through it. Everywhere she looked, people were staring and murmuring, some behind their fans, some openly. Thankfully, she was briefly distracted by the splendour of the ballroom itself, a huge, high-ceilinged space shimmering with the light from hundreds of candles. A twelve-piece orchestra was also arranged in one corner, behind a three-foot wall of pink and white roses, the scent of which filled the air, overpowering the other, less pleasant smells of pomade and perspiration. There were flowers all around the room too, filling each sconce and table, so many that every hothouse and garden in London had to be empty. Despite the beauty around her, however, it was impossible to completely ignore the whispers, as every word Lady Wadlow had spat erupted back into her brain and began spiralling, like a tornado of insults. No doubt that was whatthetonthought of her too. If she listened closely, she could probably hear them.Ungrateful, back-stabbing, conniving fortune hunter…
‘You’re doing well.’ Leo’s voice, accompanied by the gentle touch of his fingers on her elbow, gave her mind the jolt it needed.
‘I don’t feel like I am.’ She exhaled heavily as they stopped beside a large potted plant. ‘It’s all right for you. You were born to this. People admire you.’
‘If they admire anything, it’s my title, not me.’ His tone was clipped. ‘I personally have very little to do with it.’
She lifted her eyebrows, surprised by the edge in his voice. It had never occurred to her that someone like him could feel as if he didn’t belong, but maybe that was why he always looked so stern and severe, because deep down he felt uncomfortable too. The idea made her feel a little less conspicuous, as if it was the two of them against the rest of the ballroom.
‘I didn’t mean to accuse you.’ She tightened her fingers around his arm. ‘It’s just hard, knowing what they all must think of me. Everyone’s looking at us.’
‘Not true.’ He tilted his head towards some chairs at the far corner of the room. ‘There’s an elderly gentleman over there who appears to be studying the backs of his eyelids.’
‘Very well, then, everyone who’s awake is staring at us.’
‘I don’t blame them. Cassie was right. You look beautiful.’
She blinked in surprise. To her recollection, it was the first compliment he’d ever given her and her still shaking knees almost gave way in response. ‘Thank you. I’ve never worn anything this exquisite before.’
‘I wasn’t referring to your dress.’ His gaze swept downwards, lingering briefly over her hips. ‘Although it looks lovely too.’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t certain what to say to that, except… ‘Well, you look very nice as well.’
‘Thank you.’ His lips twitched. ‘I appreciate the compliment.’
‘Gracious, it’s so crowded in here, I can barely breathe.’ Cassie swept down on them suddenly, thankfully preventing her from making the situation any more awkward. ‘Now, Florence, come with me and I’ll introduce you to a few people.’
‘Not yet.’ Leo shook his head, obviously catching her horrified expression. ‘We were just about to dance.’ He bowed, a sardonic glint in his eyes. ‘Ordinarily it’s considered bad form for a gentleman to dance with his own wife, but under the circumstances… Shall we?’
She threw him a grateful look. ‘I’d be honoured. Although…’ she tensed as the music started ‘…it’s a waltz.’
‘Yes.’ One of his eyebrows quirked upwards. ‘Don’t you know the steps?’
