“Then why host a ball at all?”
“Appearances, little ferret, are everything.”
Ransom returned her to Baroness von Friesing, who’d planted herself close to the buffet table. She’d been chatting with another duenna and looked rather put out to have hertête-à-têteinterrupted.
Nonetheless, she fixed a smile upon her face. “Done with my charge so soon, Your Grace?”
“Alas, rules do not permit for more than a second dance,” Ransom said easily. “But perhaps I might claim you for a stroll around the ballroom later on, Miss Smith?”
“Why not?” Tessa held up the empty dance card dangling from her wrist. “’Tis not as if I have anything better to do.”
“Miss Smith,” her chaperone hissed.
Ransom’s lips curved, and he kissed her hand before departing.
“Flaunting one’s deficiencies is no way to reel in His Grace.” The baroness gave her a dark look. “Why can’t you at leasttryto flirt?”
Because I don’t want to marry him.
Tessa shrugged. “Why bother when my dowry is the true bait?”
“Your flippancy is unbecoming, Miss Smith. Your grandpapa will be made aware of this,” von Friesing warned. “I shan’t be held accountable for your lack of cooperation.”
“Crikey, I’ve danced with His Gracetwice,” she protested. “To cooperate any more, I’d have to offer to do the buttock jig with him on the dance floor.”
“Mind thevulgarity.”
“Who’s going to hear me?” Tessa crossed her gloved arms over her chest. “Everyone’s avoiding me like the plague.”
It was Mrs. Southbridge’s all over again. She was alone (except for the bristling company of the baroness which, frankly, was worse than being alone). And seeing Lady Hyacinth huddled with her cronies, their smirks as they whispered behind fans, Tessa knew who, once again, was the ringleader behind her social ostracism.
She told herself she didn’t care. Held onto the advice that Bennett had given her.
You’re not the same girl you were… You know your worth… Take no notice of them…
She craned her neck for any sign of Bennett. She was scanning the alcoves along the perimeter when a female voice said, “What a delightful costume.”
Tessa swung around to see that she’d been approached by a lovely brunette and an equally lovely blonde. The former’s orange-and-black striped gown suggested she was a tigress while the latter wore the soft, white plumage of a dove. The ladies were escorted by tall, dazzlingly attractive gentlemen who’d eschewed costumes, their black demi-masks their only nod to the masquerade.
Tessa blinked. “Are you, um, talking to me?”
Beside her, the baroness froze at the sight of the newcomers, her jaw going oddly slack.
“Why, yes. I wanted to complement you on your ferret costume.” The brunette’s smile and tea-colored eyes radiated genuine warmth. “I have great respect for originality.”
“Oh…thank you.” Tessa didn’t know what shocked her more, the lady’s perceptiveness or her compliment. “You’re the first person here to guess that I’m a ferret.”
“My wife is shockingly astute.” This came from the black-haired gentleman. His wicked good looks could appear quite cold, Tessa imagined, but his jade eyes were warmly amused as he regarded his lady. “And original also. For instance, she eschews introductions and launches into conversation.”
“Oh, dear. How amiss of me.” The brunette flushed prettily. “I am Emma, and the gentleman teasing me mercilessly is my husband, the Duke of Strathaven. This is my younger sister Polly,”—she waved to the voluptuous golden-haired lady—“and her husband Sinjin. They are the Duchess and Duke of Acton.”
“How do you do?” Hastily, Tessa sank into a curtsy. “I’m Miss Theresa Smith. And this is my, um, aunt, Baroness von Friesing.”
“A pleasure, Your Graces.” The baroness bowed low.
“How are you enjoying the ball?” The Duchess of Acton possessed a shy smile and stunning aquamarine eyes.
“I’m not really—ouch.” Tessa glared at the baroness, who’d elbowed her in the side. “What did you do that for?”
