Yes, the great honor being given to poor,spinsterish Alexandra Dunforth. Mutiny flared briefly, but faded just as quickly.What did it matter?
“Yes, of course,” shemurmured.
Appeased, he squeezed her hands andstrode in the direction of the gaming tables. She folded her handsinto her lap and decided to spend the entire evening watching the colorfullyclad ladies of thetonand their doting escorts. Now that she hadbeen properly introduced, not one person expressed an inclination to speak toher. She stared into the crowd, the incessant chatter and music soothingher nerves.
“Alexandra?”
Alexandra jolted upright. Had shedozed? Miranda appeared, a fairy princess dressed in light green silk thatmatched her eyes. Miranda was so beautiful, just like her brother.Alexandra’s heart hurt. Now that having him was out of the question, shemissed Lord Reynolds. Dreadfully.
“Alexandra? What is wrong withyou?” Dark curls dangled at Miranda’s temple as she tilted her head topeer at Alexandra. She waved her fingers in front of Alexandra’sface. “Are you – foxed?”
“No. I’m fine. My head achesa bit from the excitement. I just need some of my special tea.” She hadin fact, drunk an entire flask of tea on the way to the ball. But shewanted more. “I am nervous about the announcement of my betrothal.It’s to be tonight.” Silently Alexandra wished Sutton to appear.She smiled to herself, imagining the earring swinging jauntily from hisear. He would lean in and -
“Alexandra?” Miranda moved her faceinches from Alexandra’s nose.
“Miranda! Whatever are you doing?”Alexandra giggled.
Miranda sat back. Her lovely facebore an odd look. “The betrothal is to be announced tonight?Here? Damn!”
Alexandra giggled again.“Miranda! Such unladylike language. This is not a Lord Thurstonnovel.”
Miranda stood and clasped her hand.“Alexandra, I have to go speak to my grandmother. I will return tocollect you promptly. Do not move from this spot.”
Alexandra nodded dully. “Everyone wishesme to stayjust here.” She patted the cushions of the divan.
****
Miranda Reynolds pushed through the crowdof toadying sycophants that filled the ballroom of Gray Covington. Allhere to pay glory to the Marchioness of Cambourne. Her mother. Herlying, deceitful mother.
Miranda thought carefully. Whileshe didn’t know the exact details of Archie Runyon’s banishment to the Continent,she knew it involved her younger sister, Elizabeth. Her parents had arguedthat night. A terrible argument. She’d watched in horror as herfather hit Jeanette so hard Miranda had heard the sound of her mother’s headhitting the dark paneling of the downstairs salon. Her father raced outthe door, calling for his coach.
Miranda scanned the crowd for either hergrandmother or Sutton. The pure fright of that horrible evening washedover her. She remembered seeing the blood on her father’s hands afterhe’d beaten Archie Runyon nearly to death. She recalled her father’scollapse on the stairs later that evening. But most of all, sheremembered her mother’s smug, self-satisfied smile while Robert Reynolds laydying.
“Lady Miranda! How lovely you look,why -”
Miranda brushed by Lord Jocobi without asecond glance.
She wished with all her heart that herfather was still alive. How was it that her father died, yet the viperknown to thetonas Jeanette Reynolds still lived? And now Archie wasback. And he was betrothed to Miss Dunforth.
The Dowager warned Miranda to watchAlexandra closely, confiding her suspicions to her granddaughter. Mirandarelentlessly searched the ballroom for Alexandra, only to find her dozing on adivan in an unlit corner. Alexandra’s movements were slow, her speechstilted. Laudanum. Grandmother, as usual, was correct.
Miranda saw Zander, the head butler ofGray Covington, bustling about in the shadows. She must find hergrandmother. The Dowager concocted a scheme, which Miranda realized asshe looked over her shoulder to see Alexandra wilting against the couch, shouldbe implemented immediately. Miranda waved a gloved hand at Zander to gethis attention and marched forward. He would know where to find her grandmother.
SEVENTEEN
Bored, Alexandra dozed against thecushions of the divan. How long since the visit from Miranda? Itfelt like ages. Likely her friend had forgotten all about her and evennow wove across the dance floor with a handsome beau.
She stood, feeling the pinpricks as herlegs woke up, and smoothed down the gray silk ball gown she wore. It wasreally very pretty, she thought, as she admired the sheer silverunderskirt. Pity she couldn’t enjoy wearing it. If Sutton saw herwould he find her beautiful in the gown?
A fist hit her stomach. At least itfelt as such. Thinking about Sutton caused the most painful agony.Not even the tea completely dulled it. As she relaxed on the divan,she searched the crowd endlessly for his dark visage and finally gave up.It was terrible disappointment. She just wanted to look at him. Shedidn’t dare approach him. She just wished for a glance. To see himand remember having him call her “Badger”. Alexandra wanted just abit of him to remember, especially tonight. The most horrible night ofher life. The betrothal, already signed, would become public and officialtonight.
Alexandra put a gloved hand to herstomach. Truthfully, she felt a bit ill. The air in the ballroomwas heavy with the smell of roses and too many bodies. A brief respitewould refresh her. Unsteadily, she made her way to a short gray-hairedman introduced to her earlier as Zander, the head butler.
Zander, a slightly built man of smallstature possessed the fullest white beard Alexandra had everseen. Gold-rimmed glasses perched atop a button nose, whileone hand clutched a sheaf of papers dense with notes. He looked up fromthe list he perused, saw Alexandra and bowed. He broke away from the smallarmy he was directing and approached Alexandra with a helpfulsmile.
“Miss Dunforth. Is there somethingI may assist you with?”
Alexandra pursed her lips to stifle thewords her mind screamed her lips to utter.Yes! You can assist me by packingme back off to Hampshire immediately! Tell Mr. Runyon I have expired ofnerves!
