He looked out over the ballroom floor and narrowed his eyes a bit. “This is as good a time as any to start.”
She followed his gaze and her breath hitched. Alasdair and Melissa had arrived. She hadn’t heard them announced from this end of the room, but he was leading her to the dance floor.
Lorelei suppressed a sigh. The irony of what had happened was truly beginning to sink in. She wanted to be with Alasdair and he was with Melissa. She suspected that Randolph still harbored some feelings about Melissa and here he was, with her instead. The whole situation was playing much too closely to Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers to be comfortable. She shook her head. What mattered was how it would end.
Lorelei lifted her chin, pushing her feelings aside.
“Shall we dance, my lord?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You are betrothed to the Marquess of Westwood?” Lorelei’s cousin Anne clapped her hands in delight, nearly spilling her tea on the Bute’s sofa. “That is a fantastic accomplishment!”
Lorelei stared at her. Had she not understood a word of what was said? Her aunt and uncle had arrived back in London only yesterday, but Anne’s mother had lost no time in connecting with the latest gossip. Not that it should be a surprise, since the Countess of Bentley was her aunt’s good friend.
“The marquess has not asked for my hand.” She ignored the glances between Louisa and Fiona, who were seated opposite her and her cousin. They knew about Randolph’s original proposal, but she’d also told them about the “arrangement” she and he had agreed to. Thankfully, Lady Bute was not in the parlor to dispute her little white lie.
Anne looked confused. “But Lady Bentley told us how he practically swept you off the steps when you arrived, like one of King Arthur’s knights.”
“Galahad, probably,” Louisa said with a droll expression.
Lorelei sighed inwardly. That part of the story had been embellished, no doubt, by the countess herself, since it would create a lingering memory of her ball.
“We might be considered to be courting.”
“I knew it!” Anne said triumphantly. “It will just be a matter of time then before banns are posted.”
She didn’t want to think about banns. Alasdair and Melissa would probably have theirs posted next Sunday. She’d been surprised that hadn’t already been done.
“’Tis nae hurry on that,” Fiona said.
Had Fiona read her mind? Was she alluding to Alasdair’s banns? Had she had a chance to talk to him? Was he…? She squelched her train of thought. Time for wishful thinking—and hoping and praying—was over. Lady Melissa had not left Alasdair’s side the entire duration of the blasted ball. And, from what Lorelei could observe—she and Randolph had kept their distance by mutual consent—Alasdair had been polite and attentive to his betrothed.
Anne turned to Fiona. “Lady Bentley said you were quite an attraction as well. I suppose it is that strange accent of yours.”
Lorelei bit her lip. Trust her cousin to be blunt.
“It is a lovely burr, is it not?” Louisa asked.
Anne blinked as though realizing only then how it might have sounded. But that was Anne. Whatever was on her mind tended to pop out.
“I… Well, I have never had cause to speak to anyone from the Highlands.”
“’Twas ye who thought we were barbarians, nae?” Fiona grinned.
“I… ” Anne straightened her shoulders. “One hears things about Scotland.”
“Good things,” Lorelei intervened before true insults would fly. “Emily wrote to you about how lovely Strae Castle is.” She smiled. “No barbarians.”
“Unless ye count my brothers,” Fiona said.
Lorelei suppressed a groan. It seemed as if Fiona could be as bad as Anne. Neither one wanted to back down.
“Fiona and I both enjoyed ourselves at the ball.” Louisa brought them back to the topic smoothly. “I would say it was quite a success.”
Anne blinked again, seeming to realize, finally, that she was a guest and should not be insulting Louisa’s friend. As the daughter of a viscount, her cousin had been raised properly, even if she didn’t always think before she spoke. Anne turned to Fiona once more and Lorelei held her breath.
“What I meant to say was that Lady Bentley noticed you had the attention of two swains, one of them nephew to the Duke of Argyll.”
