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Could he…?

Did he feel the same inexplicable pull as she?

Her expression the epitome of innocence, Mercy slid the men a speculative glance. “Shall we go—”

“Hiding, Miss Brockman?”

Doretta Marchette’s sing-song voice intruded, as unpleasant as rotten fish for supper.

Corinna didn’t need to turn around to know Adelphia Haywood and her co-nemesis stood behind her in their nearly identical virginal gowns.

The innocent white fabric couldn’t disguise their black hearts, which was why the two were unpopular amongst the ton despite their influential families’ wealth and blue blood. Had they been kinder or more genial rather than mean-spirited gossips, they might’ve been saved the stigma of being wallflowers.

Corinna swallowed the sharp scold rising to her tongue. She would not give them the satisfaction.

“Whyever would I be hiding?” Corinna turned, schooling her features into a neutral expression though she’d rather have slapped the smug expressions from their faces.

Both looked sorely disappointed to see Corinna hale and hearty rather than disheveled or set upon.

“I was merely waving at my next dance partner.” A small white lie she’d repent of later. She looped her arm through Mercy’s. “Come, the men await us below.”

“Indeed, they do,” Mercy readily agreed with a frosty glare at Adelphia and Doretta.

Corinna summoned a sweet smile, knowing the answer before she asked and also knowing it wasn’t her kindest moment. But in her experience, bullies never responded to reason or kindness, nor did they like getting a taste of their own medicine.

“Don’t you have partners for the next set?”