The Surprise at the Acostas’ Ball
Chapter fourteen
The Surprise at the Acostas’ Ball
Padre had a few rules about how his daughters behaved and dressed at any ball because the family had to demonstrate the honor due to the Montenegro name.
“We’re in perfect timing.” Padre checked his pocket watch before leaving the carriage to make sure they were late but not too late.
When his gaze rose, he examined the three sisters’ attire for the tenth time.
“Your new gowns are lovely, though I daresay that Ana’s is looking too close to last season’s fashion. ”
Ana’s fingers curled into fists at Padre’s insistence on his silly expectations, but she pinched her lips shut. She had to remain free from suspicion. The party exited the carriage.
Padre extended his elbow to Ana. She placed her hand on his arm, making herself the daughter Padre would be exhibiting, meaning she had to be extra cautious to only speak to those introduced by someone with an excellent reputation. They strode onward.
The atrium of the Acosta Estate was meant to rival palaces with its marble flooring, crystal chandeliers, and spacious arrangements.
Ana stood on the right side of Padre, while Maria and Lucia stood on the left side as the family entered.
She glanced over her shoulder to catch Julian winking at her.
The gesture came across like a threat to maintain his promise to commandeer her first two dances.
“Senor Montenegro,” Senor Acosta greeted warmly with his wife attached to his arm. The two could be twins with their curly white hair, long noses, and potent blue eyes. Though the senor carried a heftier load beneath his vest than the senora did beneath her gown.
The lady curtsied with a welcoming smile creasing the corners of her eyes. Ana returned the gesture but found herself soon released to grab a refreshment. She had but an hour at the ball before she had to bolt home again. She picked up a glass and reached for the ladle when a man swiped the tool.
“Allow me.” Julian poured the refreshment into her cup without her consent. “I envy your padre. He has all a man could desire in life with three beautiful daughters.”
The splatter sprinkled on her wrists, adding salt to her agitation. “Thank you for your attentions,” Ana said curtly. She spun on her heel and chose a seat in the far corner between two quiet young ladies who wouldn’t distract her from keeping track of time.
Ana sipped the sweet concoction of tea and juices, satisfied that Julian had not followed her but decided to annoy Maria instead.
Perhaps she was in the clear for the first two dances and could sneak out sooner than expected.
With the masses of party guests entering the ballroom, Padre wouldn’t notice her escape.
That’s when Federico entered the ballroom, accompanied by two guests. With hair slicked back, he wore a simple but elegant brown vest and a cravat curling up to his Adam’s apple. His carefree stance shifted as he met her stare across the large room.
Her nerves thrummed to life, and heat climbed up her neck. Why did he have this effect on her?
Federico’s casual smile shifted into a boyish grin that somehow conveyed a vulnerability Ana hadn’t expected after their travels together and at such a decadent event.
Her lungs forgot to breathe as he strode in her direction, only paused by an occasional wave and greeting to other guests vying for his attention.
When had he become a desired socialite at a ball?
Ana’s posture grew more rigid. She curled her fingers on her lap, aware of how awkwardly she perched in the chair in a corner.
Even with all her trepidation, she couldn’t wish for Federico to turn another way while her heart was swollen with longing for a kind word from the man she still loved.
His kindness, rogue appearance, and joyful nature filled her mind with the reasons she wished for him to ask her once more to be his wife.
She wasn’t a child any longer, believing herself too young to commit to such a request.
“Ana”—he reached for her hand—“Would you do me the honor of the first dance?”
She had committed the first two to Julian, but her wayward arm still reached out for Federico.
“Excuse me.” Julian pushed in between Federico and Ana. “I believe it is my turn.” Julian’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth grew tight.
But Federico caught Ana’s wrist and twirled her away from Julian’s interruption. With propriety on the line, Julian did not push the issue, but stood with a firm jaw and flared nostrils in the same spot they had left him.
Federico leaned close to Ana’s ear. “I’m sorry for the other day.”
Ana flashed her glistening eyes up at him in question. Which day had he meant?
He positioned himself in the correct position for the next dance and slowly blinked his eyes in a meaningful gesture.
The ensemble started their melody, cutting off their ability to flesh out all that Federico meant by his apology.
They twirled on cue, dipped and curtsied.
Each move Ana gracefully fulfilled while desperately hoping the gleam of firelight from above correctly communicated his admiration for her.
She had to be imagining it after what she’d done to him in the past. Of course he harbored tender sentiments, but it couldn’t be the same love he’d had when he’d requested a betrothal.
The last move required him to lift his arm while she held both of his and paced around him in close proximity.
He twirled her for the crescendo until they remained face to face, gazing at one another for several beats.
Something in his eye bespoke a hidden message she couldn’t decipher, but she dared not ask.
He’d apologized, but she hadn’t a clue how to mend the chasm between them.
The music faded until they were forced to part or commit to another dance. Ana would agree to one hundred more if he asked her in that instant, but instead he pulled out his pocket watch.
“I’m sorry I stole your first dance.” Federico tipped his head forward in the expected bow to depart and fled to the main door.
Ana stepped forward to catch him, but Julian blocked her path. “Excuse me. I believe you promised me a dance. It would be most beneficial with your financial situation—”
Without thinking she quickened her pace until she found herself outside the Acosta Estate, staring into the cobblestone roads where a single coach fled the sight.
The stout coachman she’d hired marched to her side. “I’m prepared to leave if you’re ready.”
Yes, the preliminary race. She’d forgotten about it but had mistakenly led herself out in a timely manner. She had a choice in that instant to chase Federico down and admit everything that stirred in her heart or follow through with her original plan to win herself the ability to marry any suitor.
She climbed into the carriage, knowing full well what she must do.