Miss Taylor was of medium height with tawny hair. “Miss Addison, I adore your outfit. It is so refreshing to see patterns.”
She spoke with genuine feeling, even if it might only be kindness. However, Kate’s first instinct was to dislike her. Intensely. There wasn’t any reason for it, save that Miss Taylor stood beside Mr. Balfour.
It annoyed Kate that she had noticed—
“Oh,” Miss Taylor said as if startled. “Yourshoes. They are green. Howmagnificent.”
In an about-turn, Miss Taylor became Kate’s favorite person. At her exclamation, other women, overhearing, looked—including the smirkers. Kate lifted her skirts slightly. “They are different, aren’t they?” And now worth the pinching of her toes.
“Charming.” Miss Taylor’s gaze held undisguised admiration. “They finish off your ensemble. They are so much fun.”
“I thought as much.” Kate would have told her about the tinker’s cart, except a gentleman leaned into their group.
“All this fuss over shoes?” he said. He was tall, blond, and had an air of easy nobility.
“As if you gentlemen don’t carry on about boots, my lord?” Miss Taylor shot back archly. There was no humor in her voice, just mild disdain. She did not like the gentleman. Kate wondered why.
His response was a cold smile.
The duke stepped in. “Miss Addison, may I present to you the Earl of Marsden. My lord, this is Miss Addison whose theater performances starting on the morrow will be all anyone in the county will be able to discuss.”
“Well, then I must make it a point to attend,” the earl answered as his gaze went to Mr. Balfour. A look seemed to pass between them, some private jest.
Kate decided Miss Taylor was right to dislike Lord Marsden.
She also knew Silas would be pleased, as was she, at the mention of the performances. Everyone around them had heard the duke’s prediction. They might have a good crowd on the morrow.
And then the duke offered another piece of information. “Marsden acts as the local magistrate. You would be wise to stay on his good side.”
“I will endeavor to do so, Your Grace,” she murmured, remembering Mr. Balfour’s threat to let loose the magistrate on her.
Thankfully, the musicians struck a chord. There was a beat of silence and then they broke out in a lively reel. The dancers roared their approval.
Kate needed a second to catch the pattern. It had been some time since she’d danced. But once she started, her feet seemed to know where to go.
All pretenses amongst the dancers evaporated. There was the joy of movement, of music, of good fun. Feet stomped. Skirts swished. Even the stuffiest of personages twirled and skipped. The reel was one that was played faster and faster. Kate quickly found herself almost out of breath and laughing.
The duke and Miss Taylor were great partners. When Kate missed a step, they just shushed it away and encouraged her to go on.
Mr. Balfour was even passably pleasant.
Of course, the hat was a silly thing on her head. A single pin with a paste jewel on the tip held her hat in place. The plumes bounced and waved and the brim flapped up and down at Kate’s exertion.
The green shoes were another challenge. She vowed she’d never wear them again, even on stage, if they would just carry her through this evening.
The whole room, even the observers, began clapping. Shouts went up, encouraging the musicians and dancers. It was as if the two groups were pitted against each other—and when it was over with a big crashing chord from the instruments, the musicians threw themselves back in their chairs as if done up. Triumphant, the dancers laughed and bowed practically into each other’s arms.
Flush from the exertion, Kate turned toward the duke but found herself, instead, facing Balfour. A hank of hair had fallen over his brow. He appeared boyish—and a slate of memories roiled through her. In that instant, she recalled his kiss, his touch... his promises.
And those memories of how gullible she had once been to have believed him almost took her to her knees.
She whipped around, embarrassed to have considered him with any favor. Miss Taylor held a hand to her chest while Winderton steadied her by holding her other hand. Kate couldn’t help but notice thatherewas a good match.
Removing the pin, Kate took off her hat. It felt good to remove the blasted thing.
A gentleman yelled, “To the punch bowl!”
His order was quickly seconded. Kate, Winderton, Miss Taylor, and even Mr. Balfour seemed to be swept off the dance floor. New couples quickly formed to take their place. By their rosy cheeks and giddiness, she guessed they had already visited the punch bowl.
