Cassandra, who was the pickiest of the three of them when it came to men and just about everything else, made a soft, “Oh, my,” that exactly summed up Leonie’s reaction.
Nor did Leonie need to look at Willa to know she was charmed. The Duke of Camberly had all the physical virtues Willa had claimed she sought. In validation of that thought, Willa nudged Leonie and whispered, “This shall be a good game.”
“Game?” Cassandra answered. “He’smine.” There was no jest in her tone. Without waiting for her friends, she began moving in the direction of her stepmother, presumably to have the woman organize an introduction.
Willa’s eyebrows raised. “Was that Cassandra Holwell who just spoke? I mean, I’ve never heard her so direct. She sounded serious. And he is a wonder. Excuse me, my dear Leonie, but not only do we have a wager at stake, I believe I’d like an introduction to the new duke as well. I can only pray he favors petite women.” She left without waiting for Leonie’s permission to search out her own chaperone.
And Leonie was once more standing alone.
She noted that Lady Bettina had secured an introduction. She made a lovely curtsey to the duke, whose eye wandered to Bettina’s décolletage. They had not assigned points for eye wandering. Perhaps they should?
From the company all around where Leonie stood, there seemed to be only one word and that was “Camberly.” The duke had quickly made his mark on London.
She started moving in search of her mother’s friend Lady Dervish, who knew everyone and could secure an introduction for her. She knew better than to bother her father at cards over such a matter. He wanted results from his daughter, but he didn’t want her to pester him while achieving those results.
Leonie was competitive. A touch of excitement replaced her earlier ennui. And, she reflected, wasn’t courting really nothing more than a game? One with high stakes?
She might as well enjoy the moment. After all, once a woman was married, well, her life was mapped out for her, babies and then death... unless she took on lovers. Then she could play the courting game until no one wanted her.
Leonie rejected the idea. She had no desire to follow in her mother’s steps.
The first dance pattern was setting up.
She glanced around to see where Camberly was and saw him lead Cassandra to the dance floor.Three points and one for a glance and two for the introduction. Well done, Cassandra.
Leonie had best hurry if she wished to score even one point for the evening. She spied Lady Dervish talking to some friends and began weaving her way toward her—but then stopped.
Thoughts of scoring points vanished. She was struck by a strong premonition that something momentous was about to happen. Leonie had lived too long in India to not pay attention to such a sudden stirring of her senses. Her soul wakened with the keen certainty that her life might be about to change.
Perhaps this explained her earlier restlessness? Could it be Camberly? Was he the force that made her too aware of everything outside of her own skin?
Sheknewthis feeling.
Leonie turned to where she’d last seen the duke. He was on the dance floor with a beaming Cassandra. He wasn’t thinking about Leonie. He didn’t even know who she was.
The hair at the nape of her neck tingled as if she was being watched. Leonie scanned the people around her—and then her gaze met the intent stare of a gentleman.
For a second, she stared without recognition, but that was not quite true. She’dknownhim the moment she’d felt the disturbance in her orderly world. Here he was, her Past come back to haunt her.
Leonie’s first inclination was to run. She’d struggled too long and hard to forgive herself for what had happened those years ago to give it up now. And yet, running had never helped.
In a strange way, Leonie realized that she had been waiting for Lieutenant Roman Gilchrist, ambitious and loyal officer of the King’s forces in India. She’d known he would appear sooner or later.
Years ago, at another ball, he’d asked her to dance and her whole life had changed. He’d been leaner then, younger, and more uncertain.
Now, he appeared forceful, assured. Evening clothes did him justice. His was not a classically handsome face like Camberly’s but an interesting one with slashing brows, a strong nose, and gray eyes that saw too much.
Her young world had been simple before meeting him. He had made it complicated.
Without a doubt, he had shattered all she’d believed of herself.
He could do that again.
The lieutenant made his way to her. Leonie waited as if rooted to the floor. He stopped in front of her. He did not bow. “Miss Charnock, we meet again.”
She did not move, did not offer her hand. “What do you want?”
“The honor of the next dance.”
