Harriet softened slightly. “You are still young, Charlotte.”
“I am six and twenty,” Charlotte said quietly to her mother so as not to be overheard.
“You say that as though you are eighty.”
Charlotte huffed into her punch. “In society terms, I may as well be an old maid.”
“Nonsense,” Harriet said briskly. “You are beautiful, intelligent, and well spoken. Men are staring at you all evening.”
Charlotte almost glanced toward Victor before catching herself. “They are staring because they think I am engaged to a duke.”
“Well,” Harriet said dryly, “it is an excellent beginning.”
“Mother…” Charlotte sighed. She knew that she would not get out of this conversation without being greatly annoyed.
“Oh, do stop saying it in that tone.” Harriet leaned closer. “If you ask me, the duke looks at you far too much for this to be entirely false.”
Charlotte nearly inhaled punch. “He does not.”
Harriet raised a brow. “Then why does he appear ready to murder every gentleman who approaches you?”
Charlotte looked up instinctively and froze. Across the ballroom, Victor stood beside Elizabeth, speaking with Mr. Dawson, yet his green eyes were fixed directly upon her. Even from the distance, his expression looked dark and unreadable. The moment he noticed her watching him, one corner of his mouth lifted into that infuriatingly handsome smirk.
Charlotte quickly looked away.
“Oh dear,” Harriet murmured knowingly.
Before Charlotte could defend herself, Joan swept toward them like a storm in silk. “Charlotte, you shall never guess what Lady Pembroke said to me.”
Harriet sighed. “Good heavens. Brace yourselves.”
“She said Lord Henshaw has been asking who I am all evening.” Joan grinned triumphantly. “Apparently, he enjoys opinionated women.”
Penelope appeared at Joan’s shoulder. “That is fortunate, because there is nothing else available.”
Joan gasped. “You wicked creature.”
“It is true,” Penelope said cheerfully. “You terrified that poor man near the refreshments.”
“He adored me,” Joan said.
“He looked frightened for his life,” Penelope laughed.
Irene joined them moments later, graceful and serene as ever. “Would you all stop squabbling in the middle of the ballroom? People are staring.”
“They are staring because we are dazzling,” Joan declared.
“They are staring because Penelope nearly tripped a footman,” Irene corrected.
Penelope looked unapologetic. “He recovered splendidly.”
Charlotte could not stop herself from laughing as her sisters gathered around her in a noisy cluster. The sound of them together warmed her chest painfully. She had missed this terribly during their time apart.
Penelope grabbed Charlotte’s arm excitedly. “This is the finest ball I have ever attended.”
“It is also the only proper ball you have attended,” Joan pointed out.
“And yet my statement remains true,” she said.
