“Lord Trenton,” old Lady Pratt said quickly, “why don’t you mark your name on Miss Middleton’s dance card? I’m certain she wouldn’t mind saving a dance for you.”
“Uh, well…” Vincent’s gaze moved quickly between the older woman and Ellie.
She should let him suffer a few minutes longer, but she couldn’t wait to throw her popularity in his face. “As enjoyable as dancing with you sounds, unfortunately, my dance card is full tonight. Perhaps next time.”
He nodded. “Perhaps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make introductions for my sisters.”
“Enjoy your evening, Lord Trenton,” Ellie said sweetly, although her words tasted bitter. “And give your sisters my regard.”
“I will indeed.” He turned and left the group.
Seething inside, Ellie bunched her hands into fists at her sides, she wished she could leave. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, mainly because she was certain she’d spout her frustration at the situation her father had gotten her into. It was hard not to blame her sire, but instead, she must think positive. She would overcome this obstacle before another one crossed her path. And she was determined to get through this with her head held high.
“Lord Trenton is such a charming man, and very handsome,” the elder Lady Bothwell said. “Don’t you agree, Miss Middleton?”
She tightened her hands into fists. She certainly didnotagree. “I suppose he is rather charming. But he’s a rogue.” She flipped her hand. “I would never want to be in his company for longer than a minute.”
The other women in the circle giggled behind their fans.
“Oh, but Miss Middleton,” Lady Langely said, “don’t you know that reformed rakes make the best husbands?”
The henwits released another round of giggles. Ellie rolled her eyes and turned away from the bunch. She didn’t care if reformed rakes were good husbands or not. Vincent was no longer in the running, since she’d scratched him off her list last week.
The dancing began, and her mind was kept busy as she tried to move her feet to the steps before they were stepped on by her partner. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough a few times.
She chatted with the men, but they all seemed to only focus on themselves. Couldn’toneof them make her feel giddy—or at least as though she could become good friends with them after they were married? Apparently, she hadn’t met that man yet.
The next dance paired her with other partners for a moment, which was nice, since she didn’t have to think up a topic of conversation. Again.
For the first minute, she quite enjoyed herself, mainly because the movements were slower and her sore toes could relax just a bit. As she and Mr. Leslie moved to join another couple, her gaze landed on Vincent as he stepped from his dance partner to Ellie. Immediately, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she stiffened. His eyes locked with hers. The worst part was she couldn’t read his expression. Was he happy to be dancing with her—if only briefly—or was he doing it to taunt her?
Finally, she was back with her partner, Mr. Leslie, and she breathed a sigh of relief. However, she couldn’t stop her attention from moving toward Vincent and his dancing partner. Ellie wasn’t certain she knew the woman, but she felt sorry for the young lady, especially because, knowing Vincent, he’d use her and then toss her aside like yesterday’s leftovers.
Time passed quickly, and soon Ellie was partnered with Vincent again. Holding her breath, she hoped not to inhale his intoxicating and very seductive scent. But it didn’t work as she’d wanted.
“Your anger is quite obvious, my precious,” he whispered.
Hisprecious? Inwardly, she seethed. She thought not!
“Forgive me, my lord,” she said in a low voice, “but I’m not as skilled at performing as you are.”
“Oh, so harsh, Miss Middleton.” He grinned.
They traded partners again, yet she couldn’t relax. Not until that man left the ball, which probably wouldn’t happen soon enough. Now she prayed this particular dance would come to an end.
Ellie’s wish was not granted, and she was again paired with Vincent too soon. This time, they had to hold hands as he walked her down the line. Would this torture ever end?
“So tell me,” he said softly as he rubbed her gloved fingers with his, “have you found a man to marry yet?”
“That, my lord, is none of your concern. I’m sure you’ll read a wedding announcement in theGazettebefore the month is over.”
“I’m certain I will.”
How she hated it when he got the last word in. “What about you?” she quickly added. “Have you found the funds needed to give your sisters a dowry?”
“Not yet, but I haven’t given up searching. I have joined a few speculations, and your brother assures me they will pay off soon.”
“Then I wish you good fortune, because you’re going to need it. My brother isn’t very good at those type of investments.”
