Her pulse leapt. She tilted her head slightly. “You preferred the villain?”
A pause. “I preferred the quiet.”
“Then you’ll loathe the ball.”
“I’ve already accounted for that.”
Before she could answer, Dorothy stepped forward once more, her expression bright. “Your Grace, if we are all prepared, shall we depart?”
“My carriage is outside,” Stone said smoothly. “I had intended it for Lady April, but if you are ready, we shall all go together.”
Dorothy beamed. “Oh. Marvelous.”
May and June exchanged glances as April shot them both a warning look which they ignored with the ease of long practice.
The ride to Lady Allenham’s was short but not quiet. Dorothy, adjusting her shawl with purpose, filled the space easily.
“You know, Lady Finch’s daughter is already married. A very good match too. And I heard from Lady Belling that young Miss Granger is now engaged to the second son of a marquess.”
“Mama,” April said under her breath.
“Such efficient girls,” Dorothy continued, entirely undeterred. “No dithering. Simply married and settled. Of course, we mustn’t rush—but a bit of clarity would be helpful.”
“I’m sure clarity’s on its way,” June said, looking deliberately out the window.
“Probably in the form of a special license,” May added, grinning.
April shot them both a look that promised retribution, but Dorothy remained oblivious.
“The thing is, April dear, once a girl is seen to have caught a duke’s attention, everyone begins to assume. Which is very useful if it’s true. Less so if it isn’t.”
“Mama, perhaps now is not?—”
“But truly, Your Grace,” Dorothy turned her attention to Stone with the subtlety of a cannon, “you must find all this season business tedious.”
“It is… varied,” he replied.
May leaned in, clearly delighted. “Do you enjoy anything about it?”
“I enjoy riding,” he said. “And I breed horses.”
“For racing?” June asked, surprised.
He inclined his head once. “A few of mine ran at Epsom last year.”
“Did they win?” May’s eyes widened.
“They didn’t lose,” he said.
April glanced at him sidelong. His voice hadn’t changed nor his posture. He sat perfectly straight, gloved hands resting on his knee. Polite. Unreadable. She tried to read his face, to detect anything beneath the cool surface. Nothing. But her heart beat faster anyway.
When they entered Lady Allenham’s ballroom, the shift in the air was immediate. Conversations dropped. Heads turned. A few fans fluttered open with theatrical grace. April didn’t look at any of them.
Then she felt it—his hand, warm and solid, placed at the small of her back. Her breath caught. What on earth was he doing? The touch lingered just long enough to make her wonder if he had noticed the stir. If this was intentional. A silent declaration.
“Now that the ton has seen you arrive on the arm of a duke,” her mother whispered, voice sharp beneath her smile, “you had best see it through.”
April managed not to groan. Barely.
