Always a Princess

Something was different about her tonight. Her dress was far more severe and matronly than anything he had seen her wear before, as was her hair. It was scraped back in a tight chignon, and her expression did not invite anyone to come closer as she stared at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap.

Was she reprimanded for our waltzing? Alexander wondered.

He had hoped that by dancing with other women first, her reputation would be spared the gossip he had ignited the first time.

He could not see beneath her hem, but he was willing to bet one of his Russian estates that she was not wearing dancing slippers this evening.