“Poppy?” Papa’s soft voice echoed from the corridor. “Are you ready?”
She wasn’t sure. She’d had nearly a month to think about what she’d say when she saw Alec again, but now that the time had come…
Oh! What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he hadn’t thought about her like she had him? What if—
“Poppy!” Laurel called. “Everyone is already in the ballroom.”
Everyone.
“Yes, yes,” Poppy replied over the lump in her throat as she crossed the room and opened her door. “I’m ready.” Or as ready as she was going to be.
“Beautiful as always,” Papa said. Then he offered Poppy one arm and Laurel the other as he escorted them through the corridors of Nightshade Manor, toward the grand staircase.
Music spilled out from the ballroom below as did the sound of general merriment. Poppy’s hands began to tremble. Goodness, she was such a ninny. She’d done everything in her power to be here this evening to see Alec, and now that it was time…
“You’re not going to faint, are you?” Papa asked, concern marring his brow as he focused his full attention on her.
She wasn’t going to faint and hadn’t done so in well over a year, even if she had been prone to such things before her magic had been restored. Poppy shook her head. “Just a bit nervous.”
He smiled at her then. “You’ve survived three of the most troublesome sisters in all of England—”
“Papa!” Laurel gasped.
“—if anyone can manage a ballroom filled with mere witches and warlocks, it would be you.”
“I am one ofthosesisters,” Laurel complained.
Papa winked at Laurel. “I was mostly talking about Georgie, love.”
Georgie was the most troublesome, but Poppy hadn’t realized her father held a similar view. She bit back a smile. Strange as it was, his words helped to put her at ease. “I’m ready.”
Papa smiled and then guided both sisters down the staircase and directly through the open ballroom doorway.
Though it wasn’t a crush by London standards, the Whartons’ ballroom was rather full with some couples dancing in the middle of the room while other guests milled around the edges or filled small plates at the refreshment table. Under the flickering lights of candelabras, the satiny white walls and deep blue ceiling of the ballroom had an enchanted feel that seemed as though they were beneath a starry sky.
“Beautiful. Just the way I saw it,” Laurel muttered.
The ballroom was lovely, but Poppy was preoccupied, glancing around the room for Alec Galbraith. She did not spot him, at least not from her vantage point. So, she slid her arm from her father’s and cast a glance in Laurel’s direction. “Take a turn about the room with me?”
Her sister agreed with a nod.
As the two of them navigated their way around the ballroom, Poppy’s pulse began to race. “Do you see him anywhere?” she asked.
Laurel shook her head.
“Where was he in your vision?” Poppy pressed. After all, if she knew where to look for him it would save quite a bit of time and some panic on her part.
Laurel looked on both sides of her, seeming to take in the whole of the room. “I—” She bit her bottom lip. “I mean…I-I don’t know,” she finally admitted with a furrowed brow.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Poppy stopped in her tracks. “You said this looked just like your vision.”
Laurel swallowed a bit nervously. “Well, yes, the ballroom is what I saw, but I only saw it once, and…” She glanced around once more. “Well, wouldn’t any ball Lady Wharton hosted here look likethis? I mean, it is her ballroom. What if my vision wasn’t about this specific ball? What if the vision I saw was of a different ball all together?”
Why had that thought not occurred to Poppy until now? Her heart sank. “Heavens,” she whispered, knowing her sister had a point. But then an idea popped into her head when she spotted the Countess of Wharton on the far side of the ballroom, near the refreshment table.
“I’ll be right back.” Then as quickly as she was able, Poppy made a direct path toward their hostess and was relieved when the woman smiled in greeting.
“Ah, Miss Elstone, how lovely you are this evening.”
