Chapter 3

"Remember when that was us? How time has flown by," Anna said, looking over at the debutantes, who spent half their time gazing at those on the dancefloor and the rest preening when one of the dukes or earls passed by.

It was bittersweet that Anna and Mary were here again, surrounded by their families and chaperones, four unsuccessful years later.

That evening was the first ball of the Season, and, as usual, everyone was dressed to impress. The women, especially the debutantes, wore their fanciest gowns, with daring necklines and throats adorned with pearls and jewels—glittery costumes to attract the eyes of the gentlemen who stood on the other side, gazing upon them like prized horses at an auction.

It was sickening, Anna thought to herself, but it was Society's way.

Four years ago, she too had stood there with Mary, watching and waiting for the moment that an earl or even a baron would gaze upon her and whisk her off to the dancefloor. Now, all Anna had to show for past Seasons was a failed courtship and the looming failure that was spinsterhood.

"Oh my!" Anna noticed a pretty young lady being led to the dancefloor. "Look at that child. How lucky for her to have received the favor of an earl at the very beginning. If only that was us."

Mary patted her friend's arm. "It still may be. I have heard no whispers about you yet."

"You know as well as I do, that means nothing," Anna replied. "They are likely biding their time, emboldening themselves before they ridicule me. Indeed, I would wager that this entire congregation knows what happened."

"You have been asked to dance, though," Mary insisted. "Why, those you have rejected have all retreated to the side of the ballroom, and they look rather wounded. As such, it is quite clear that you have lost none of your charm."

Anna looked over at the gentlemen her friend was talking about. Truly, they seemed to have fallen out of the circles of other men, lounging and imbibing in a rather sulky fashion.

A few moments ago, her brother had been among that peripheral band of disgruntled fellows, standing next to the only other gentleman of the group who had no interest in asking her to dance. A newcomer that she did not recognize. But now, she could not find her brother there, and panic rose in her chest.

"Is that… Benjamin?" Mary blurted out, grabbing Anna's arm. "He is… conversing with a lady!"

Anna's eyes snapped toward her brother, finding him on the opposite side of the room, bowing his head to a lady. "It cannot be," she gasped. "Do you know her?"

The lady in question was everything that every girl aspired to be. She was elegant, poised even as she laughed at Benjamin's words. Her face was small, a perfect oval shape, with her hair curled up in ringlets framing her face. And her skin was almost alabaster white, letting the red pigments bloom across her cheeks.

"I do not, but I certainly shall," Mary said with a gleeful grin, dragging Anna toward her brother.

But just as they were about to reach Benjamin, he drew away from the young lady. His eyes widened in surprise as he found his sister and her best friend standing there, blocking his exit. Meanwhile, the young lady had moved away with her chaperone, taking a seat at one of the tables on the periphery of the ballroom.

"Are you well, Sister?" Benjamin raised an eyebrow at Anna.

She smirked. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Do you have a fever? That is the only explanation I can think of for why you would introduce yourself to a pretty young lady like that one—a lady who is undoubtedly in pursuit of marriage."

Benjamin turned to glance at where the woman had been, clearly not realizing that she had moved away.

"Who is she?" Anna asked.

Benjamin cleared his throat. "Lady Tiffany."

"She is very beautiful," Mary commented, winking at Anna.

It was nothing short of a miracle to see Benjamin even remotely interested in the fairer sex. Though, judging by his lack of emotion, that did not seem to be the case with this young lady, despite how the situation seemed.

Indifference fell across Benjamin's face. "Is she? I had not noticed. I only spoke with her because I mistook her for someone else—the sister of a friend I have not seen in an age. It was not her."

Anna observed him, trying to decide if he was truly indifferent or just pretending. It was impossible to tell.

"I am expected to believe that?" she teased.

"Believe what you will. It is the truth."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Go and speak with her, you dolt!"

"There would be little use in it," Benjamin replied. "She does not say much—anything if I am being honest. Our conversation just now was very… monotonous." He shrugged his shoulders, his tailcoat rising before falling helplessly against his frame.

"You say she is monotonous, but she seems to converse with that gentleman well," Anna said, watching as Lady Tiffany spoke rather amiably with a gentleman who had approached her table. "Perhaps, it is just you she does not find interesting."

Mary giggled, snapping her fan in place as Benjamin glared at her. He turned back to the pair across the ballroom, observing Lady Tiffany's conversation with the newcomer. She even had the courage to place her hand on the gentleman's forearm before dropping it to her side.

If Anna was not mistaken, the gentleman was the same one who had been standing beside Benjamin earlier. The one she did not recognize, and whose name she didn't know.

"But who is he?" Anna asked, hoping to coax some reaction from her brother. "He is rather handsome, is he not?"

"Is he? Yes, I suppose he could be considered handsome." Benjamin did not sound jealous, but rather more curious as to why he had not received the same response from Lady Tiffany.

Mary peeked out from behind her fan. "That is Edmund Stilton, the Duke of Davenport."

Anna watched as the gentleman tried to continue his conversation with Lady Tiffany. In truth, he seemed as awkward as her, neither able to look one another in the eye as they spoke. And he shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his cufflinks and lapels, rubbing the back of his neck as though he had a knot to loosen.

I did not know we had a Duke of Davenport…

Anna racked her brains, but she could only recall an old dynasty that had not been seen in Society for an age. She had certainly never seen a Duke of Davenport since her debut.

"You know him?" she asked, dropping all pretense.

Benjamin tilted his head from side to side. "In passing, though we have never been formally introduced."

Mary, on the other hand, seemed to have all the information. "He just recently purchased a townhouse in London, though his country manor is not two hours from here, in Davenport. I hear it is rather lovely, though it has not always been so. His family was… not always so distinguished."

Benjamin pulled a face. "It is uncouth to gossip, ladies."

"It is not gossip," Mary insisted. "Merely an exchange of news."

Benjamin paused. "Well, if you must gossip, I suppose I cannot stop you."

Evidently, he was as interested in what Mary had to say about the Duke of Davenport as Anna was.

Anna listened with rapt attention as Mary told her everything she had heard from her friends, who had heard from their parents, who had heard from their friends—a tangled web of whispers that likely had at least a morsel of truth within. And as Benjamin was intrigued, too, he could not scold her for not mingling with eligible bachelors.

"His parents made some ill-advised financial decisions when he was quite young—half the age he is now, more or less," Mary explained in a hushed tone.

Anna observed the fellow, guessing he must have been thirty or so. He carried the years well on his handsome face, albeit bashfully.

"People tried to exploit them, and they lost everything," Mary continued. "They lived in penury, selling parcels of their land, every heirloom, every bit of furniture—everything they could. I believe they even allowed Davenport Manor to be let to other nobles while they took rooms at the local inn. Even scraping by could not save his mother and father, though."

Anna's throat tightened. "What happened?"

"His father died, and his mother succumbed soon afterward. They say it was from a broken heart, but who can be certain?" Mary shook her head. "From that tender age, alone in the world, everyone assumed Edmund had vanished or gone to live with a relative. Then, he suddenly emerged a few years ago. According to Lady Henrietta, he has amassed the fortune his parents lost, has purchased back everything they sold, and now is one of the wealthiest gentlemen in the country."

"That is quite a story." Anna puffed out a breath, her eyes landing on the Duke of Davenport and Lady Tiffany. "That poor fellow."

"I think you mean outrageously rich fellow." Mary chuckled.

Benjamin's eyes suddenly widened, as if he had just remembered he had left the stable doors unbolted. "I think it is time that I received a formal introduction," he said, grasping Anna's hand. "And I am certain that Lady Tiffany will be grateful for the respite of female company."

Before Anna could argue, he was dragging her across the ballroom. She might have fought against him if it would not have made the rest of the guests stare, for she could guess exactly why her brother was choosing now to be "formally introduced" to the Duke of Davenport.

"Lady Tiffany, this is my sister, Lady Anna, and her friend, Lady Mary," Benjamin said, by way of introduction. "They have been clamoring to make your acquaintance."

Lady Tiffany seemed surprised. "Oh… well, it is my pleasure to be acquainted, I am sure."

The three ladies curtsied to one another, Anna struggling to hide her annoyance with Benjamin.

"Benjamin, the Duke of Yarmouth," her brother said to the stiff gentleman beside Lady Tiffany, extending his hand.

The gentleman took Benjamin's proffered hand. "Edmund Stilton, the Duke of Davenport." He tilted his chin toward Anna and Mary respectfully. "Lady Anna, Lady Mary… Yes, that is, uh, who I am. A pleasure to make your acquaintances."

Mary hid a laugh behind her fan, but Anna saw no reason to giggle. After hearing his story, of course he was not like other gentlemen.

"I trust you are enjoying this fine occasion?" Benjamin asked.

The Duke of Davenport nodded, though Anna did not believe him. He looked rather like a fish out of water, leagues away from his usual pond.

"It is… charming," he said, equally dubious. "Not what I had anticipated but not unpleasant, aside from whatever they deign to call punch here. I have never tasted anything more bitter, and I once mistook a lemon for an orange."

Lady Tiffany laughed, quickly swallowing the sound. Both Benjamin and the Duke of Davenport smiled at the pretty woman, who was endeavoring to hide her blushes behind her fan. Meanwhile, Anna smiled to herself.

So, he has some humor in there somewhere…

Benjamin cracked a grin. "Apparently, if you suck a lemon in front of a trumpet player, they cannot produce a sound!"

"I must investigate that theory," Edmund replied, his lips curling into a mild smile, probably amused by the joke Benjamin had cracked, no matter how horrible it actually was.

He intrigued Anna. Despite how rough and distant and undeniably awkward he seemed when they had approached, it turned out he could appreciate a joke. Or at least the semblance of one. Because what her brother had said could not be called a joke.

She brushed a bit of hair away from her face before grinning at Edmund. "Oh, hush, Brother. His Grace is a dignified man, he does not wish to hear silly jests about lemons and trumpet players—though you have piqued my curiosity. Do you think their lips would pucker?"

Edmund smiled. Though her words were not witty enough to prompt laughter, he had smiled. With nothing to lose and no need to save face, she smiled back and curtsied before turning to her brother.

"Sometimes, all I have to do is think of something sour, and my mouth begins to water," Lady Tiffany said unexpectedly, drawing Edmund's attention. "Does that happen to you, Your Grace?"

He hesitated. "I?—"

"It does," Benjamin interjected cheerily, having mistaken which duke Lady Tiffany had addressed. "Why, what a strange thing. I had not thought about it before."

Lady Tiffany blushed furiously.

"Might you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me?" Benjamin continued, clearly still oblivious. "If your dance card is not full, of course."

Observing the amusing interaction, Anna did not have the heart to inform her brother that it was evidently the Duke of Davenport who held Lady Tiffany's interest.

Well-mannered and almost painfully polite, Lady Tiffany bobbed a small curtsey. "The honor would be mine, Your Grace."

She likely could not have refused, even if she had wanted to. Ingrained manners like hers made rejection impossible.

Like moths to a garden lantern on a summer's eve, they disappeared into the crowd to join the next dance, though it had to be noted that Lady Tiffany trailed along rather reluctantly. Anna supposed the ball was not going as expected for either of them.

Fortunately, Anna was not as burdened with strict manners, her nature more prone to teasing. "I hope you don't mind that my brother stole your companion, Your Grace."

Edmund seemed startled by her words. He shook his head effusively and adjusted his cufflinks for the thousandth time. Despite the many layers that separated their skin from touching and the slight distance between them, Anna could still feel the warmth emanating from his body. Or perhaps it was the heat of his embarrassment.

"There is nothing to mind, Lady Anna," he insisted, his tone cooling. "Your brother thinks himself clever despite it being rather obvious why he departed with Lady Tiffany. I trust he is not a man who favors competition?"

Anna grinned. "He is a painfully sore loser."

Unless Benjamin did not leave for his own benefit.

Indeed, what if it was not his competition that he had sought to remove, but hers?

She shook the thought away, deciding it was foolish, and as Mary leaped in with a remark about one of the nearby ladies resembling a cabbage, Anna forgot everything but her enjoyment of the evening.

As it turned out, Edmund was rather easy company. The trio laughed, trading quips, conversing companionably as the music and the babble of the other guests swirled around them.

"Your Grace, how are you finding the Season, thus far?" Anna asked as the orchestra struck up a new tune. "I realize it is only the first ball, but I hope it has not been too boring for you."

This must be his first in a very long time.

He laughed, and Anna caught sight of a chipped tooth before he turned his head away and coughed into his handkerchief. "It has been something. Everyone is staring at me like I am not worthy to be here, and yet no one is doing anything with their stares. Indeed, I am beginning to think this is customary."

Anna nodded and turned to watch the crowd. He was right, they were all staring at him and, also at her and Mary, but no one moved from their spot.

"Yes, it is strange," she agreed. "But also rather comforting. I prefer it when the gossip is a murmur instead of a roar."

After all, she was still waiting for her own bombardment of rotten tomatoes. Perhaps, after everything, there would be no ridicule, no scorn, just an acceptance that she had been unlucky.

A few minutes later, she realized she had thought herself safe too soon.

A shadow materialized before her, in the fawning shape of Lady Charlotte, a former acquaintance who relished a fall from grace more than anything. She was flanked, as ever, by her two faithful conspirators, Georgina and Louisa.

"Lady Anna," Charlotte purred. "How fortunate for us to be graced by your presence. I would have thought with last year's success, you would not be here. How unfortunate for you that you are, but one person's loss is another's gain, is it not?"

The ladies wore similar outfits, all with a different shade of red, and matching adornments. Charlotte, of course, was the ringleader, and at every tea party or event where their paths crossed, she would take aim at Anna for whatever reason possible.

It could be because she has been secretly in love with my brother for so long and he continues to ignore her. Such a pity.

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Charlotte," Anna replied. "But I assure you that what happened last year has been amicably and amiably forgotten. There's no reason to bemoan the Viscount's elopement to all of Society, when there was no fault on either side."

Charlotte smiled, waving her hands in the air in time with the violin and the couples on the dancefloor. "You say that, Lady Anna, but he broke the betrothal in favor of marrying someone with less social standing than you. A disgrace by anyone's st?—"

Anna raised her hand, cutting her off. The other ladies and the Duke looked at them, but while Georgina and Louisa had a look of superior confidence and Mary seemed to be bracing for a fight, the Duke was unbothered. He looked mildly curious, but upon meeting Anna's gaze, he turned back to the windows.

Chuckling, Anna raised her head, meeting Charlotte's eyes before clearing her throat. "What the Viscount and I had was a mere courtship, not a betrothal. Before aiming to ridicule a person, it is important to gather the facts. Otherwise, it might be considered slander."

"You can say that now, seeing as you have caught the attention of a duke," Charlotte remarked sourly, folding her arms across her chest. "Tell me, Your Grace, do you know what happened to her last year?"

"Goodness, Lady Charlotte, how ardently you must have rehearsed the moving scenes of my tragedy," Anna said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Have you made lengthy preparations? Decided if you might squeeze out a tear or not?"

Charlotte blinked in astonishment, while Mary stifled a snort.

"I am almost reluctant to deny you the opportunity," Anna continued. "But the truth, Your Grace, is rather less dramatic. A viscount courted me, but he fell in love with someone else, and who am I to stand in the way of love? I can barely even stand in the way of a strong wind without swaying."

A glint of amusement shone in Edmund's eyes, while Anna strove to fight back any glint that might show in hers, betraying her true pain. She had not loved the Viscount—had not even liked him, really—but that did not mean she appreciated what he had done to her. No one liked to be thrown to the wolves.

Yet, there was some comfort to be found in the bright purple on Charlotte's cheeks. She was about to explode.

"I was trying to be nice," Charlotte hissed.

"As was I," Anna replied.

Edmund cleared his throat. "I believe that in a play, this is the part where you are to exeunt, Lady Charlotte. A better actress has taken your speech and delivered it rather excellently. Although, I am no judge of theater."

For a moment, it seemed that Charlotte might faint. Her mouth opened and closed, but neither breath nor words could escape.

"Perhaps you ought to find a quiet spot to sit down and contemplate your behavior," Edmund said. "Poor manners can wreak havoc upon one's constitution."

Huffing and puffing, Charlotte turned on her heel and marched away beneath a black cloud of humiliation, with Georgina and Louisa hurrying to catch up. There would be consequences for embarrassing her, but Anna did not care—it served the girl right for delighting in others' misery.

"For one who is no judge of theater, you have exemplary timing," Anna said shyly, somewhat stunned that Edmund had defended her so smoothly.

Indeed, she suspected that Charlotte would spend the rest of the evening trying to decide if he had insulted her or not, for it had been so subtly done.

Mary nodded. "Goodness, that was satisfying!"

"It will not be long until everyone knows about the broken betrothal or courtship or whatever it was," Anna lamented, half forgetting that Edmund was there. "I have sealed my fate, I suppose, though I cannot deny that it was satisfying."

Edmund eyed her, and Mary slunk a few paces away, leaving the two of them to stare at one another. He offered her his hand, a slight smile on his face as everything came to a halt. Even the music fell silent—though that, of course, was impossible.

"Lady Anna," he asked softly, "may I have this dance?"