“May I have your permission to… that is, her hand, Lord Fairmont. May I have the honor of…” Gilly blew out a breath, then gathered himself together, straightened his shoulders, and turned to meet James’s eyes. “I love her very much, my lord, and I promise you I’ll devote myself to making her happy.”
“Well, Gilbert, I can’t ask for more than that, can I?”
Gilbert gaped at him, eyes wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe it could be as easy as that. “Er, no?”
“No. You’re a good man, Gilbert.” He laid a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “I think you’ll make Harriett a fine husband.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Gilbert reached into his coat pocket, withdrew a handkerchief, and mopped his brow with it. “I feel a bit faint.”
“No time for a swoon now, Gilbert. Come, let’s get on with it, shall we? I wish to dance a waltz with Euphemia Templeton tonight.”
Phee hoveredin the doorway of Lady Upton’s ballroom, taking in the bright silks and satins, the flashing jewels, and the dozens upon dozens of flushed faces.
Familiarfaces. Here were all the same fashionable aristocrats who attended every ball, all of them laughing and gossiping about the same things they’d laughed and gossiped about the week before.
She might have been standing at the doors to Lord Powell’s ballroom, or any other ballroom, at any week throughout the season.
It was a crush, of course, and dreadfully hot, the humidity from too many bodies pressed too closely together assaulting her even from this distance, causing a trickle of perspiration to slide down her spine.
She might have been hovering at the entrance to hell itself.
Goodness knew she’d rather take her chances with demons armed with pitchforks than face thetontonight. Her heart was thrashing so wildly against her ribs that for one awful moment her head went all wobbly on her neck, her lung squeezinghelplessly, desperate for air. If she didn’t manage a deep breath, she’d fall into a swoon, and that… no, that wouldn’t do.
Not tonight.
Tonight’s ballwasn’tthe same, because this time, she wouldn’t be running away.
“You don’t have a thing to worry about, Phee.” Harriett laid a comforting hand on Phee’s shoulder. “They don’t matter. They never have.”
“No, indeed,” Lady Fosberry echoed. “They’re all shameful, wicked creatures, to be sure, but no matter what they do or say, just remember, dearest, that you have as much right to be here as anyone else does.”
Yes, she did. Oh, it might not feel like itnow, as she took in the faces closest to her. All the people who’d laughed at her last time were here again tonight— Lady Ellsworth, Lady Silvester, and Lady Arundel —and her heart gave its usual spasm of dread.
But they couldn’t hurt her. Not unless she permitted them to do so, and that, she would not do.
Not this time.
“We’re sure about this gown, then?” She smoothed her hands down her shimmering silk skirts. Inside her gloves, her palms were damp.
Harriett smiled. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“It’s perfection, Euphemia. Utter perfection, and you, my dear, are perfection in it.” Lady Fosberry gave a decisive nod. “Now, shall we bid Lady Upton a good evening?”
“Yes, I’m ready.” This was it, then. There was no turning back now.
She drew in a deep, calming breath, lifted her chin, and stepped into the ballroom.
Almost immediately, there was a gasp, high-pitched, and breathy.
It was Lady Ellsworth, of course. Her ladyship had perfected her scandalized gasps. Phee would have known it anywhere, so many times had she heard it.
Her ladyship stared at her as she passed, her outraged gaze sweeping over Phee’s gown, a gloved hand over her gaping mouth.
Oh, dear. It appeared as if Lady Ellsworth did not approve of the frock she’d chosen to wear this evening. Perhaps it was the color. Itwasa bold shade of blue and despite the modest neckline, rather revealing, the bodice clinging to her as if it were a second skin. The back was cut rather lower than was strictly appropriate, as well, revealing a generous expanse of the bare skin of her neck, shoulders, and back.
Scandalous, particularly for a spinster.
But if a lady had made up her mind to challenge thetonby dancing the waltz with a gentleman as fashionable as Lord Fairmont, there was no sense in doing the thing halfway, was there?
