gave him a haughty look. “I believe you are a lady’s escort.”
“How did you know?”
“We saw the carriage drive in, and you gave your hand to one. Won’t she be angry that you are speaking to me? It is rude of you to leave her alone.”
“She hasn’t even noticed I’ve gone. She has a swarm of men surrounding her and is getting plenty of attention.”
“Is she not engaged to you?”
“No, only assumed to be.”
“I see. She is beautiful.”
“Yes, but beauty fades.” With his eyes fixed upon Miss Roth, Ethan’s voice fell into a tone that hinted upon disappointment. In those large blue eyes belonging to Miss Roth thrived no sign of love, only possession and disapproval that he spoke with Darcy. She headed in Ethan’s direction once she broke free of the men around her.
“Pray, Ethan, present me,” she said.
“Miss Roth, may I present Miss Darcy …” and he hesitated.
Miss Roth leaned against Ethan. “Perhaps she hasn’t a last name of any importance. Shall we join the others? I have an appetite now.”
Then, with a regal lift of her head, she held her hand out to him.
Darcy glanced at Ethan, watched the anger bank in his eyes. She wondered if Miss Roth saw it too. If she did, she cared not a whit. “Will you walk back with us, Miss Darcy?”
“Yes, I think I will. But I will have to join my aunt. She is motioning to me.”
Giving his arm to Miss Roth, Ethan led her across the grass to the stairs, to the cool shade of the veranda. Darcy was mortified by how the snobbish Englishwoman had treated her. She detested the sanctimonious smile, the critical eye that Miss Roth had cast upon her, as if she were one of her servants.
Yet, I feel sorry for her. How exhausting it must be, demanding the attention of others, striving to be something she is not.
When she glanced at Ethan and saw his eyes turn in her direction, but never catching them, her breath held and she looked at him with a yearning to make him think better of her than what Miss Roth had made certain to plant within his mind. Or had she?
The sun dipped low along the horizon, and a butler dressed in scarlet stepped out among the guests gathered on the porch. With an elegance that matched that of an English herald, he lifted his head, his white-gloved hands motioning to all before him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, attention if you please.” His voice rang mellow and deep, and it caught Darcy’s ears. A memory forced its way to the surface. She had once before heard a voice such as this—long ago as a child. A face she could not see, but she remembered a pair of hands, calloused and sinewy, picking her up, placing her on a swing, and pushing her with gentleness on a midsummer day.
She blinked the memory back and watched the butler bow low to the assembly and sweep his hand toward the door. “The musicians have tuned their instruments, rosined their bows, and gathered around their sheets of music, and they await your pleasure. If you please, follow me into the great hall, where your host and hostess bid you to dance.”
With an elegant turn, he proceeded through the entryway. The guests followed him with excitement in their steps. Mrs. Breese drew Darcy and her older cousins close to her. “Come, girls. Remember what I taught you. A graceful figure gathers attention.”
Once inside the house, Darcy glanced over the trappings. The entrance to the dance hall was a carved frame painted pale yellow, with a bower of blood-red roses set above it to scent the room. Paintings hung on the walls. Chairs of blue velvet lined the perimeter. Tall French doors stood open.
Darcy’s heart raced at the sound of violins. The music struck up and gallants gathered up girls and drew them out onto the floor. A long row formed, gentlemen on one side, ladies on the other. They weaved up and down the line, ending with their hands touching a partner’s.
Pulled into the fray of dancers, she scanned the room for Ethan. A moment more, and there he was, standing near the entrance. Miss Roth opened her fan and sat down in the chair near him, followed by Miss Byrd. Their heads were held high, and they sat with their backs straight as broom handles.
Darcy thought it a shame to live day in and day out with a face covered in powder and