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Rising, he pulled Elinor to her feet and steadied her.

“You won’t be gone for long. Don’t worry about me,” she reassured him. “Nothing terrible can happen in just one night.”

* * *

Anna clutched the pearl strap of her reticule so hard that she could feel it leaving marks on her palm. Her mother stood beside her, leading her into the Ratley ballroom, where her father awaited them.

The earl had arrived ahead of them, having been forced to take a separate carriage, what with Anna running late. She had delayed their departure that evening as long as possible—the last in the series of misdemeanors she had been treating her parents to that week.

“Correct yourself and stand up straight,” her mother scolded. “Such a disagreeable girl… You are lucky we allowed you to come at all after your antics this past week. I had half a mind to leave you at home.”

“I do not believe I have done anything out of the ordinary,” Anna said, feigning innocence. They had joined the stream of other guests waiting to be announced by the master of ceremonies. Colorful feather headdresses peeked over the crush. “I have remained in my chambers, the library, the music room?—”

“From where you played incessantly during every social call this week, refusing to greet our guests? From where you have tyrannized your father and me in this petty act of rebellion?” her mother scoffed in disgust. “You are too old to be behaving so childishly.”

“I am not yet married, nor do I have an income of my own. You have proven that I am entirely dependent on the two of you. In that regard, I am still a child, and thereby have been acting accordingly.”

Anna struggled to conceal her smile as her mother quietly seethed beside her. If her freedom was coming to an end, she planned to enjoy every last moment of it while she could.

They were announced in due time and escorted into the ballroom proper. The Viscount Ratley and his wife had dominated the echelons of high society since their daughter had caught the eye of one of the princes the Season prior. Their wealth was almost as impressive as their connections. Their home, one of the largest private houses in Westminster, had been decorated in a style befitting royalty.

Anna and her mother passed between two potted palms on their way into the ballroom. A large glass ceiling rose overhead. The cream-colored walls glittered with sconces, illuminating the dancers on the floor and the crowds surrounding them.

There must have been two hundred people present that evening, if not more. It was the perfect place for her father to start spreading the news of her betrothal to Lord Ashwicken.

Scanning the room, Anna was flooded with relief at the sight of her friends by one of the refreshment tables. Without warning her mother, she took off in their direction. She heard Rosamund cry, “Anna!” behind her, but she didn’t bother looking back.

“You’re here?” Margaret squeaked, pulling her into a quick embrace. The other girls gathered around them. “We didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Oh, Anna. You’re so much braver than I am,” Lucy said, taking Anna’s arm and stroking it. “I would have stayed at home and refused to show my face.”

“Have you seen him yet?” Sophia asked, passing Anna a glass whose contents looked like water but smelled suspiciously like ratafia. “The Viscount Ashwicken?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Helena spoke up from the sidelines, pulling Anna out of Margaret’s reach. “Our friend is facing a calamity tonight, and we should all be lending her our utmost support, not assaulting her with our questions and concerns.” She grabbed Anna by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “There is still time to run. I will go with you.”

Anna laughed, downing Sophia’s drink in two gulps.

Margaret gasped. “You’re laughing at a time like this?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Anna said, handing Sophia her empty glass. Her mouth tasted like almonds, confirming her suspicions. “My fate is sealed, and there is nothing to be done. Running away would mean my death, and although that solution sounds more appealing by the day, I will not give my father the satisfaction of destroying me quite so thoroughly.”

“Then you will marry him?” Sophia asked, her face creased with worry. “You cannotseriouslythink of marrying him.”

“I did not say that either.” Anna sighed, walking toward the refreshment table in search of another drink. Her friends faithfully followed her. “I cannot reject the betrothal outright. If I did, the ton would make me a pariah. Ashwicken is a crook, but at least I know the face of my enemy with him. No…” She snatched up a foul-smelling glass of punch and turned to her friends. “I will not run… I plan to become so insufferable that Ashwicken abandons all hopes of marrying me.”

“I don’t understand,” Margaret said, leaning on the table. “How will you manage that? In your letters, you said that your father was determined to see you marry him no matter the cost.”

“Ashwicken is looking for a serviceable, meek wife. That is how my father presented me to him—how I havealwaysbeen presented. Little obedient Anna, who would not say boo to a goose.” Anna looked into her glass and took a sip. She would need all the courage she could get that night. “I must show him that he was wrong. I will do nothing to compromise myself in the eyes of the ton, but I will make it so that Ashwicken rues the day he ever laid eyes on me. He will cancel the betrothal, and I will be free to resume life as I knew it. For a moment, at least, until I can come up with a better plan.”

Her friends did not look convinced.

Anna didn’t care what they thought. She was going to escape Ashwicken’s clutches, and this was the safest way to do it.

“If that’s what you want,” Margaret said, “then I will support you.”

“And me,” Helena added.

Sophia and Lucy nodded in tandem.