“We don’t know a soul here,” Celestine sighed, as they looked around the room. However, Ariadne did see a few darting, curious glances coming from nearby groups. “Oh, how I wish my friends were here.”
I agree, I wish my friends were here too.
“I see Lady Julia over by the seating area,” Ariadne said while feeling a little off balance, “We’ve spoken cordially when we cross paths at Almack’s, but I can hardly call it an acquaintance.”
“Which makes it the prime opportunity to make more,” Celestine smiled. “I think I see a few girls from my finishing year. I think I’ll go speak to them for a while.”
As Celestine swanned off, her white skirts swaying with every dainty step, and while she went, Ariadne turned to Marigold, “Shall we get a drink?”
“Yes, please,” Marigold replied. “But no punch for me.”
“I know,” Ariadne nodded. As they went off to the refreshment room.
As they neared the room, the group of men she had seen before was headed in the same direction. She eyed the dark-haired lord briefly, his vibrant green eyes lit withnot-a-care-in-the worldlevity.
As she stepped into the room, two ladies were already inside, one of them pink-cheeked and sipping a glass of punch. The lady’s gown was scarlet red with a vulgarly low square neckline, baring most of her breasts. Ariadne was sure that with one jolt, the lady’s modesty would be something of the past.
“Lady Porter, you might need to pace yourself,” the other lady said.
“And why is that?” Lady Porter huffed. “I came here under the impression that he wanted to extend our liaison, but apparently, I was wrong. He had not looked at me all night. I wore the most scandalous dress in my wardrobe, and I could have worn wallpaper for all it earned me.”
Ariadne shared a look with Marigold and mouthed, “Gadz.”
“Lemonade?” Marigold asked, while shaking her head.
“I—”
A smattering of chatter behind her and a lord’s voice had Lady Porter spinning on her heel—and wobbling with her drunkenness—Lady Porter called out, “Leander, you cad!”
In seconds, Ariadne could not figure out how a lady who was drunk walked so fast in her heels—the lady was pushing past her to get to the lord behind her. Unfortunately, Lady Porter slammed into Ariadne instead of leaping into the arms of the lord behind her, which sent Ariadne tipping backward.
She gasped in horror, clenching her eyes tightly while preparing to hit the floor.
Chapter Two
Before she could scream, two— no, four—hands grabbed at her, but only to stop her from crashing to the ground. Another lord darted forward to grab Lady Porter.
Startled, Ariadne felt the room spin around her before it righted, and she swallowed over the furiously beating heart in her throat.
“Are you all right, my lady?” the dark-haired man asked, his gem-green eyes dark with concern.
“I—” she pressed a hand to her breast, “I think so. What— what happened?”
As she looked around, one of the men was leading Lady Porter away from the room, and soon, she vanished. The lord’s lips ticked down, “A bad decision, my lady, and I am sorry you got in the middle of it.”
Turning, Ariadne asked, “Marigold, are you all right?”
“Yes,” her sister replied while wringing her hands. “But you look as white as a ghost.”
“And that was my fault,” the gentleman replied, then bowed. “Leander Greymont, at your service, my lady.”
Greymont. Greymont—why do I know that name? Oh la, that is the name of the duke’s house I am in.
She curtsied, “Pleased to meet you, my lord. I am Ariadne Hargarve. Daughter of the late Viscount of Fairbrook.”
“I am sorry for your loss, my lady,” Leander replied. “I feel as if the least I can do to make up for this mishap is to ask you to dance. Will you do me the honor?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Marigold nodding furiously, and Ariadne agreed, “I would like that, thank you.”
