“Your Grace,” one of them said with an eager smile.
Damien dragged his attention away from the dance floor long enough to acknowledge them with a brief nod.
“Good evening.”
The second lady brightened immediately. “We were wondering if…”
“No,” Damien said before she could finish.
Both ladies blinked.
“No?” the first repeated.
“No,” Damien replied, taking another sip of brandy as his gaze drifted back toward the ballroom.
The ladies exchanged confused looks before retreating almost immediately. Damien felt no guilt whatsoever.
Across the ballroom, Seraphine laughed again at something Lord Everend said. The sound carried faintly through the music. His grip tightened around his glass.
Perhaps one more brandy will improve matters.
Chapter Nine
Seraphine smiled and danced when politeness required it. She laughed when conversation demanded it. She listened attentively, asked thoughtful questions, and conducted herself exactly as she had been taught since childhood.
A proper Society lady. No one watching her would have suspected that her future hung by a thread.
That I searched for a husband with the threat of becoming of a nun over my head.
As the evening progressed, Damien's chosen suitors took their turns.
Lord Shelding had spoken enthusiastically.
“Improvement to the drainage systems on my estate have progressed,” he said.
Seraphine listened with sincere interest. “That is…remarkable,” she said because she had manners, but even she had begun to suspect the man felt more passion for irrigation than for human companionship.
Lord Cunningham had been perfectly agreeable.
Unfortunately, he had also been perfectly dull and said little at all.
Lord Everend had fared the best of the three. He was kind, pleasant, and possessed a decent sense of humor. “And when the chickens were set loose, I thought that the room would have fainted,” he said recalling a good joke.
“That is very funny indeed. I wish I could have seen such a spectacle,” she laughed.
And yet… Something was missing.
As she finished her dance with Lord Everend, Seraphine offered him a flawless curtsy.
“Thank you for the dance, my lord.”
“The pleasure was entirely mine, Lady Seraphine,” he replied warmly.
She smiled politely before taking her leave. Not a single aspect of her behavior could be faulted. Lord Everend bowed in return, clearly pleased by their dance, and she rewarded him with one final gracious smile before moving away.
Exactly as it ought to be. No mistakes. No impropriety. No reason for Society to criticize.
Seraphine had spent years mastering every rule expected of a lady. She knew precisely how to conduct herself in company, how to navigate a ballroom, how to converse without encouraging gossip, and how to leave an interaction with grace. Tonight would be no different.
