“You danced well with Mr. Milton.”
“That was all William. He’s smooth.” Reese put her arm through Ellen’s. “Come on. We don’t want you to be late for your partner. And you can enjoy yourself, knowing that you don’t have to dance with Sir Slimy again tonight.”
“Sir Slimy?” Ellen giggled. “Do you refer to Lord March?”
“You know I do.” Reese felt happy now, with a purpose. Somehow, she was going to find a way to help Ellen. That creepy guy was not going to get this sweet kid.
“I wish I could be like you,” Ellen said, wistfully.
“Knowledge is power, my friend, and I’m going to see how much I can share with you.” Reese grinned. “If you could do anything you wanted with your life, what would you do?”
“I have been my brother’s hostess at our home here for the last three years,” Ellen said. “Once I come out, I hope he will trust me to do the same for him in London. He hosts many political parties.”
Reese pinched her lips for a second, reminding herself of Nellie’s comments about Slimy’s designs on Ellen. Women in this time had no status until they married, and then they were essentially property. Reese pushed down her anger. She had to accept that she couldn’t change the entire society.
“Are there any local single men you’re interested in?” she asked.
“No one here would dare call on me.” Ellen’s expression darkened. “I am afraid Lord March has scared them away, as he has made clear his intent to offer for me.”
“Listen,” Reese stopped and made the girl face her, “if you don’t want to marry him,don’tlet them bully you into agreeing.”
“I may have no choice. If my brother marries again, his wife will be his hostess.” Ellen’s eyes moistened. “When he marries, I will lose my place, and I do not know if I could abide living as the spinster sister, serving as companion to his wife.”
“Wait. What?” Reese’s head was starting to hurt again. “You never mentioned your brother marrying again soon.”
“My aunt is pressing him to do so,” Ellen said. “As you said, he needs an heir.”
“Okay, so it’s not like he has someone lined up already. Good. You have time.” Reese turned them toward the ballroom again. “If you’d like to host your brother’s parties in London, I’m guessing you’re interested in politics. You wouldn’t mind being a political wife?”
“I believe I would enjoy it.”
“All right, then,” Reese said. “I’m guessing your brother will have a good dowry for you.”
“Yes, and I also inherited a small estate in Kent from my mother.”
“Then you don’t have to marry unless you want to,” Reese said with relief. “You can run your own estate and support yourself. Only marry if you find someone you’d like to spend the rest of your life with.”
“I will never have control of my estate,” Ellen said. “Trustees hold it until I marry, and then my husband will own it.”
Reese almost screamed her frustration. What was wrong with these men that they were so afraid of women having any power at all, any control over their own destinies? She took some long, slow breaths to calm herself before they reached the throng of guests.
When they entered the ballroom, a nice-looking young man spied them and hurried over.
“Lady Hildebrand,” he said with a bow. She curtsied and put her hand on his forearm.
Reese watched as they danced. Whatever else happened, she would do her best to help that girl find the kind of marriage she wanted with someone she wanted to be married to, whether it was a love match or an amicable business contract.
“Miss Hamilton, is it?” a lazy voice said from behind her.
The hair on Reese’s neck stood on end. She clutched her fan and slowly turned to find Sir Slimy studying her. He definitely didn’t get the concept of personal body space. His gaze paused on her chest, and the corners of his mouth edged up. She snapped the fan open with such a sharp movement that he stepped back to avoid it, and she lifted it as a barrier between them to cut off his view.
Reese had never experienced such a powerful dislike of a person, and she had interacted with plenty of scumbags when she’d worked at the clinic. She wanted to put him down, but she wasn’t a complete moron. It could be dangerous to take on a titled jerk without having a reason—besides that of staring at her chest. Fortunately, he’d given her one.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Reese turned and walked away. She was done with this ball, but she had plans to make for the rest of this little side trip in history.
Chapter 5
JEM STUDIED HIS REFLECTION IN the mirror. His valet straightened the jacket’s collar. It had taken a while to get used to the tight breeches that were the fashion, but he found the buckskins had some give and were easier to move around in. The whole 1850 cosplay thing had turned out to be more fun than he’d expected.
