“Why?” She demanded.
The song ended and they stopped. It had flown by too quickly. A glance around the other dancers, breathless and cheerful as they moved about, proved time had flown by.
Though they were meant for another dance, Dominic pulled her off to the side. “Why what?”
“Why would my brother seek to arrange a match for me when he has never done so before, doing this without my input, to a lord I hardly know?”
Anyone who might accuse her of having a tiny brain is surely bound for a good wallop. I hardly dare dance with her again lest she topple me right over.
He hesitated before he answered, unable to hide his discomfort, “Because it is time we both wed.”
“That’s nonsense. I…” Her grip on his arm tightened just a pinch as she noticed something beyond him. The way her gaze shifted to something more intriguing, where her eyes gleamed, had him wondering what had happened.
Dominic looked. Tall enough to see over half the crowd, he noted some papers were quietly being passed around. Small booklets of paper. Whispers went around.
“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath.
It was a question meant for himself, but Verity answered. “I believe it appears to be a magazine. Hardly important or timely for a ball. Unless, of course, it was published in the evening instead of the morning.”
I suppose that is possible. But why would anyone do such a thing? Unless it carries a focus on scandal. Someone might be seeking to disrupt tonight’s ball.
“I should return you to your family,” Dominic decided.
“No, no, not yet. Shall we… dance again?”
He stared at her for a long moment as he wondered if this was some sort of trick. But when she didn’t crack a smile or a jest, hechose to take her question as genuine. “Very well. The musicians are turning for another that we might enjoy.”
As the two of them returned to the edge of the dance floor, others seemed to watch them. He straightened up and was prepared to ask Verity a question when someone passed by with a spare magazine for them.
“It’s free tonight. TheLondon Grey Truth,” the lady whispered excitedly, her shoulders shaking. “Someone delivered them only moments ago! Can you imagine? Your Grace, you are mentioned here.”
Dominic grudgingly accepted it as the lady took off to join her other friends through the crowd, spreading out the magazine. He read them on occasion but preferred accuracy above all else. So he offered it to Verity.
“Thank you, but I don’t read them,” she told him. “But you may.”
There was that almost smile. Dominic nodded slowly before deciding to look the magazine over. Just another wrinkled gossip rag. He paused before reading, glancing at Verity in case she might change her mind.
Only she appeared to have forgotten him. Hands clasped in front of her, she turned slowly about to take in every sight. She was observant, curious, and studying everyone’s faces more than the actual magazines.
Why does that feel so strange to me? And surely, she is interested, but only doesn’t wish to appear that way. To impress me or to impress someone else? I suppose it doesn’t particularly matter.
Eventually he looked the magazine over. The voice was sharp. Extremely precise for someone providing observations. It wasn’t particularly distracting content, but still fairly riveting and laid out in a clean matter like any other newspaper.
“Oh dear!” An older woman dropped the magazine in a ball on the ground, crushed, before hastening off.
“What has Lady Belvedere done this time?” Verity whispered.
His eyes found the name on the next page. She was having an affair with her gardener, apparently. How someone had discovered that, Dominic couldn’t imagine. And what did Verity know of the lady?
“Were you friends?”
“Hm? Oh, no. No, I’ve never met her,” she answered.
It was an odd statement to make so soon after her other comment. Was gossip just as prevalent in the retiring room? Dominic considered Verity’s calm composure, wondering how she couldn’t have a hint of curiosity in herself right now.
Perhaps she knows something. How or what, however, I couldn’t imagine.
Then Dominic caught his name. It was only two lines, one sentence, noting confirmation that prior rumors were true: he is indeed on the market looking for a wife. Though annoyed, he was relieved to find it was nothing more. He tucked it away into his pocket before turning back to Verity as the music picked up.
