Chapter 2
Two
Aurelia scanned the crowded ballroom three weeks later but could see no sign of her new friend.
She sighed. They had already met many times at various social events, and she had been relying on Phoebe’s presence to make the evening bearable, since Aurelia couldn’t rely on being asked to stand up for every dance.
If she stood up for even half of them, she would be pleased.
Despite the size of the room, it was fast becoming crowded, and she would soon be unable to catch sight of most of the decorations.
The blaze of candles alone was remarkable, their light a supplement to the more common luminescence of the moss lanterns.
And she could still catch glimpses of the flowers that covered every possible surface.
But she could no longer see the unusual pattern of the floor, although it had caught her attention earlier in the evening.
Clearly someone in the Marquess’s family—either past or present—had been bonded with a unicorn.
Aurelia had seen no less than four paintings including unicorns on her way into the ballroom.
And when the center of the floor was cleared for the beginning of the dancing, another unicorn was revealed, this one inlaid into the floorboards themselves through clever use of different wood shades.
Aurelia shook her head. She had danced at balls before, but she had never danced over the image of a unicorn.
She caught sight of her mother as the crowd shifted, but she was ensconced in a chair against one wall, deep in conversation with another matron.
Aurelia didn’t want to join them and interrupt.
Her mother didn’t have enough friends in Wynvale society for Aurelia to want to disrupt any social connection she was making.
Her mother always put a good face on it, but Aurelia sensed that she cared more about being included in society than Aurelia did herself.
The orchestra struck up the next dance tune, and Aurelia’s hand slid toward the small bag hanging from her wrist. The book inside—chosen for its compact size—promised a welcome escape from the stuffy ballroom.
But if she pulled it out too soon, she would chase off any gentleman who might have been tempted to ask her to dance.
The strains of the song continued, and the dancers arranged themselves in place and began the movements. Aurelia pulled out the book. She could put it away again before the end of the dance, but she didn’t fancy standing watching the dancers when she didn’t have anyone to talk with.
But she’d barely edged over to a candelabra and found her page when a commotion near the entrance of the ballroom intruded on her consciousness. She looked up curiously, sticking her finger between the pages to hold her place.
The Marquess and Marchioness throwing the ball—along with their daughter Lady Lucia, the guest of honor—had already abandoned the receiving line to join the festivities.
If a late arrival was attracting enough attention to make a stir, they had to be someone of interest, and Aurelia had heard a rumor that the queen herself might make an appearance.
Her eyes found Lady Lucia thanks to the blinding white color of her gown—a color Aurelia would never dare wear for fear she would instantly spill punch all over it.
The new arrival bowing over her hand straightened, and Aurelia sighed.
Even across a ballroom there was no mistaking the Earl of Windward.
He said something to Lady Lucia that made the young lady laugh, the musical peals carrying over the music. Aurelia sighed and returned to her book.
But she could no longer concentrate. She peeped up again, watching as the Earl stepped into the room, skirting the dancers to move deeper into the crowd.
Everywhere he went, the gentlemen greeted him with either bows or friendly cries and slaps on the shoulder.
And from the ladies he received either flirting eyes and fluttering fans or indulgent smiles, depending on the age of the lady in question.
And this time there wasn’t a pegasus in sight.
Aurelia forced herself to look back at her page.
Too many girls were already watching his progress through the room, and she had no desire to swell their number.
And there was no point in her adding to the longing looks anyway.
There was no way Danton, Earl of Windward, would ask her to dance.
He didn’t even know she existed, and Aurelia had already spotted three young ladies present with considerably more beauty than Aurelia could possibly claim, despite being currently dressed in her prettiest gown.
Not that she wanted him to ask her to dance. The last thing she wanted was for all the eyes currently watching him to be watching her as well. She would probably trip and fall one minute into the dance—and that despite usually dancing with reasonable grace.
The image made her laugh, restoring her previous equanimity. It was obvious that even a bookworm like her wasn’t entirely immune to the Earl’s infamous allure. But thankfully he would have no return interest in a girl with so few dance partners that she’d brought a book to a ball.
Sure enough, he led Lady Lucia into the next dance, and Aurelia—once again without a partner—returned to her book.
She did hope someone asked her soon, though.
Alanna would want to know all about the event when Aurelia returned to the townhouse they had rented for the spring, and she didn’t want to have to report not dancing a single dance.
Distracted by the book, she missed the end of the song, only vaguely becoming aware of a shift in the room and an increase in the noise of conversation as the dance finished.
Resolving to finish her paragraph and then put the book away, she almost missed the approach of long, masculine legs, visible above the page.
She lowered the book slowly, warmth brushing her cheeks. Of course she would get lost in her book on the one occasion a gentleman did want to seek her out.
She looked up, and her mouth fell open, the book nearly dropping from her fingers. The gentleman offering her a polite bow wasn’t one of the familiar few who had danced with her in the past. But it was a face she recognized instantly.
Danton, Earl of Windward, was even more handsome up close. She had been unaware of the exact line of his cheekbones or the perfect proportions of his lips. And she had certainly underestimated the devastating quality of his smile.
“I see we share an interest.” He inclined his head toward the book now dangling from her limp hand.
She glanced down at it, too off-balance to grasp his meaning until her eyes fell on the title. The History of the Pegasus.
The faint warmth in her cheeks jumped instantly into a blazing inferno. Did the people around her think she had brought the book to the ball in the hopes of catching the Earl’s attention? Did he?!
She would have liked to immediately refute any such idea, but she had an incurable tendency toward honesty, and it wasn’t entirely true that she had chosen the book by chance.
She hadn’t been thinking of attracting his attention, but she had been entranced by her first look at a pegasus in flight, provided by the Earl at the picnic.
The awareness of her flush only intensified her embarrassment.
Any hope that her cheeks had turned an attractive rose color seemed forlorn.
They were no doubt much closer to the hue of a tomato.
And to think she had turned her nose up at the girls who blushed at the first line the Earl spoke to them. How mortifying.
But standing in front of him in silence was growing even more mortifying, so she opened her mouth and said the first thing that came into it.
“They are fascinating creatures, my lord.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t think there was anything exceptional in that.
“They are indeed,” he agreed more warmly than her comment seemed to warrant.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her brain function returning as she slowly became inured to the full force of him. He couldn’t possibly be impressed by her weak conversational efforts, so what was he doing lingering so close?
The music struck up behind them, and his smile broadened. He held out a hand, and she stared at it even more suspiciously, her mind not comprehending the meaning of his gesture.
Her suspicion seemed to amuse him since he lowered his voice so only her ears could hear his words.
“Does your book tell you that a pegasus sometimes bites? I can assure you that I don’t, however.”
Her eyes widened, leaping to his, only to find they were laughing at her. Her spine stiffened, and she straightened herself as far as possible—which was sadly no impressive height.
“Would you dance with me, Miss Aurelia?” he asked, immediately distracting her from her indignation.
“You want to dance?” she blurted out.
His expression rippled with amusement. “I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Her hand rose without thought, depositing her fingers in his. And when he moved toward the dance floor, her feet followed. Her mouth, however, seemed to have a mind of its own.
“Is that really true? It’s hard to believe, you know. Surely you’ve asked at least one woman to dance before when you didn’t really wish to do so.”
This time he laughed aloud, and she felt the effect of untold numbers of heads turning toward them. She immediately flushed again.
“Honesty compels me to admit you are right, Miss Aurelia,” he said as he positioned himself in front of her. “But no one has ever forced me to admit it before.”
She winced. “That was impolite of me. I apologize. My sister Alanna tells me I am too honest for good taste.”
“I find it a charming quality,” he assured her, his arm encircling her waist. As he pulled her close, his voice lowered. “But I can assure you this is not one of those dances. I am looking forward to it more every moment.”