chaperone. Perhaps later, when the orchestra plays something... uh, more simple, we shall dance.”
Evleen could feel a blush of shame creep over her cheeks as Montague led her to the sidelines. When they arrived, he added to her humiliation when he proceeded to ask Charlotte, “Would you care to dance? It appears Miss O’Fallon, doesn’t... er, care to waltz.”
As if the whole world wouldn’t know that socially inept Miss O’Fallon did not know how to waltz!
Numb with embarrassment, Evleen stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched as Montague swept Charlotte into his arms and whirled her away. As the two dipped and twirled to the strains of the lively waltz, she saw how skilled they were, how exceedingly graceful, thus making her mortification so much the worse.
She wondered why Lydia Trevlyn had mislead her. Quickly she found the answer. To make a fool of me–discredit me in the eyes of Montague and all the rest.
Evleen found a chair in a remote corner where she sat, wishing she could make herself invisible. The orchestra struck up another waltz, followed by a quadrille, which she also couldn’t dance. She felt dowdy, clumsy, awkward and awful.
It was going to be long night.
“Good evening, Miss O’Fallon.”
Lord Thomas! Looking exceedingly handsome in his formal clothes, he stood before her, bending in a smooth little bow.
Startled, she leaped to her feet and blurted, “But I thought you weren’t coming.” She regretted her words instantly, not wanting him to know she thought of him at all.
“I changed my plans, obviously.” His forehead furrowed in an inquisitive frown. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
“I... have a headache.” She hated to lie, but she’d be even further humiliated if he learned the truth.
“A headache?” he asked, obviously unconvinced. He smiled with beautiful candor and said, “You look lovely tonight. I cannot imagine why you’re hiding in a corner. In fact, I would have thought you’d have captured every man’s heart by now and become the belle of the ball.”
“Obviously not.” She knew he was just being polite because how could he think she looked lovely when her hair was awful and she wore this ugly dress? She knew she’d sounded cool, but her thoughts were chaotic as she tried to decide what to say next. If she was too friendly, he would ask her to dance, perish the thought.
“Do you realize we’ve never danced together before?” He extended his hand. “Let us remedy that lamentable state of affairs right now, shall we?”
The orchestra struck up another waltz. Oh, no. How many times tonight could she die of shame? What to do? She did not want to be rude, but on the other hand, she most definitely did not want Thomas to witness her making a fool of herself.
“I do not care to dance with you, Lord Thomas.”
For a fleeting moment, Thomas looked as if he had been struck. Quickly his face became a mask. “Well, then,” he said, obviously giving himself time to arrange his thoughts. He gave her a slight bow and with effortless grace continued, “Delightful to see you again, Miss O’Fallon. Good night. Have a pleasant evening.”
As she watched his broad shoulders disappear into the crowd, Evleen wanted to cry, Wait. Come back. I didn’t mean it. How terrible that she had allowed her pride to guide her feelings. She didn’t know how she could feel any more miserable, as well as guilty, besides. She should simply have admitted to him she couldn’t waltz, but she’d wanted to appear perfect in his eyes. But how foolish. Such vanity. She shouldn’t give a farthing what Thomas thought of her.
But aside from all that, even if she were skilled at waltzing, she should be searching for a rich man with a title, not a poor second son.
I’ll get over him, she thought, as a lump rose in her throat. I must.
At last the orchestra played music for a country dance she recognized, and she realized she could dance to that. Even so, she was sorely tempted to sit here, safe in this sheltered corner, until the ball was over. But she wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t a quitter. She returned to stand by Lydia, who had earlier informed her a young lady must not stray far from her chaperone unless dancing. The orchestra struck up another country dance, which she knew she could do, and when a young blade asked her to dance, to her relief, she found she actually enjoyed it. It was hard to