“The line will not move any quicker just because you will it,” Dominic said, for this was about as far as he actually wished to be from the ball.
The moment Harriet’s name was announced, they would be inundated with people offering their well-wishes, and old friends of Althea’s who would coo over Harriet and tell her how much she looked like her mother. Then, of course, there was Frances to think about.
What if she isnothere? What if her father lied about the scandal dying down in order to have her back? What if she is in Mayfair right now, alone?
He knew the address; it would not take much to get in the carriage and journey there, if only to see that she was well. If he could find Hugo in the crowd, his cousin would be more than happy to take over the escorting duties.
He shook off the thought. He would not fall back into old habits of straying from his daughter’s side; he owed her that much, on what she deemed to be the most important night of her life.
Soon enough, it was their turn. Harriet pulled him forward to the top of the sweeping staircase that tongued down into the main ballroom, her eyes alight with excitement, her cheeks rosy, a vibrant smile spreading across her face. Her hand was shaking where she gripped his arm, but he sensed that her nerves would soon fade once she was in the midst of the ball.
“Lady Harriet Everhart, only daughter to His Grace, the Duke of Alderwick,” the Master of Ceremonies bellowed, though he did not have to work too hard to capture the attention of the crowd below.
Thetonwere already watching, like an audience at a play, ready to applause or withhold their applause depending on their initial judgment.
As Dominic let go of his daughter’s arm, Harriet sank into a deep, graceful curtsy that Frances had spent at least one whole afternoon teaching her to master.
A ripple of appreciation whispered through the crowd, a few sharp glares from society mothers letting Dominic know that Harriet had made an impact. From his high vantage point, he noticed a few admiring glances from eager young gentlemen, and nods of approval fromtheirmothers.
Where is she?He searched for the shine of that unusual muslin… and realized that she might not be wearing the gown at all. Just because he had sent it did not mean that she would use it.
Harriet took his arm, snapping his attention away from the crowd and his thoughts of Frances. With a proud smile on his face, he led his daughter slowly down the staircase. She truly resembled a society lady, so poised and refined, but he could not help seeing the little girl who had run to him, calling for her papa. The little girl that he had all but ignored.
He could not get that time back or fix the sixteen years of her life where he had been distant, but hecouldcontinue to be the father she deserved now. Attentive and supportive, and determined to do whatever would make her happy, even if that meant attending a whole Season’s worth of events.TenSeasons worth, if necessary.
They withdrew to the edge of the majestic ballroom, as the Master of Ceremonies announced the beginning of the dancing. An orchestra struck up an encouraging tune as couplesmeandered toward the dance floor, ready to begin the evening’s revels.
“Wecould dance, if you like?” Dominic offered, his gaze discreetly searching the throngs of guests.
Many more gentlemen were casting curious glances at Harriet, though his daughter did not seem interested in spotting potential admirers. She was up on tiptoe again, squinting as she looked this way and that, as if trying to spot someone in particular.
I am wondering where she is, too.Dominic smiled… and immediately schooled his face into a stonier expression as he noticed a few appreciative glances being cast inhisdirection, too: young ladies, older ladies, the mothers of those ladies, they were all staring as if he were a prize bull that had just been walked into the cattle market.
Then, just as he was about to suggest fetching refreshments, he saw her.
On the opposite side of the dance floor, standing with a young lady in a coral pink gown, looking rather harried and just as beautiful as he remembered, was Frances. She was in the middle of speaking with the girl at her side, the conversation apparently rather strained, when she suddenly stopped and turned her head.
Their eyes locked and, not knowing what else to do, he raised his hand in greeting.
She is wearing it…And it looked better than he ever could have imagined, especially as she drew away from the woman who was, presumably, her sister. The way the gown moved with her body as she weaved through the crowd had the power to slow time, the color shifting like it was under a breathtaking enchantment, her grace and beauty so astounding that a rush of whispers and astonished stares followed the path she cut through the guests.
She was ethereal, like some mystical goddess had decided to bless the ball with her presence, mesmerizing the entire room with her full, shapely form and the intense femininity it exuded. Dominic’s entire brain faltered with each step she took toward him.
“That was very unkind of you,” were the first words out of her mouth as she appeared before him, her dark hair piled on top of her head and held with a jade pin, her skin radiant, her summer-green eyes gleaming with amusement, her constellations of freckles making him feel as if he could be a lifelong stargazer.
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“Arriving last,” she said, chuckling. “I could not bear the anticipation. Indeed, for a moment, I thought you were not going to come at all.”
“It was my plan,” Harriet interjected, huffing out a breath. “Alas, every other lady seemed to share it.”
“Not my sister.” Frances smiled. “She was most insistent on being the first. I shall bring her over later, but she is about to have her first dance.”
Dominic cleared his throat and gestured to the woman in coral pink. “That lady is not the debutante?”
“Heavens, no. That is Lucinda. The middle sister.” Frances rolled her eyes. “She has spent the past half an hour coming up with every excuse to leave, for she is halfway through a new novel and wants to see how it ends. So, you have given me the perfect excuse to slip away and leave her to pester her chaperone instead.”
Harriet was about to reach out to embrace Frances, when a startled gasp left her throat, and she stood frozen for a moment, just staring at her former tutor. “That gown, Frances! Where did you get it? It does not look real; it is so beautiful!”
