Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,93

her metaphorical loins and stepped towards the ballroom entrance.

In a flash, she took in the general loveliness, though she remained ignorant of the details as her gaze swept the room, not pausing until she found him waiting at one side of the entrance, watching for her.

Men’s fashion dictated black for evening wear, leaving the fellows looking remarkably uniform, yet Mr. Kingsley stood out among the rest. The hint of red in his hair was striking against his dark jacket, and his smile brightened the somberness of his vestments, leaving him a handsome beacon among the dark crowd.

Mr. Kingsley remained rooted in place as his eyes examined every facet of her, and there was a power to be found in that admiration, but not as Mama described it. Seeing her feelings mirrored in his gaze filled Sophie with such profound joy. What good was a devoted slave? There was no greater power than to love and be loved. Sophie’s chest expanded, filling her with such lightness that she felt like a fluff of down on a breeze, floating through the ballroom as they approached each other.

Fighting the urge to take his hand as they so often did, Sophie curtsied as he bowed, their gazes holding through the slow movements. For all of her earlier fretting, the effort they’d taken on her toilette was well spent, as Sophie knew she would remember the look on his face for years to come.

“Might I have this dance?” His whispered question was barely audible above the noise of the ballroom, but his tender tone wrapped itself around her heart. There was no need to answer, for there was no other response to give. As she slipped her arm through his, the couple strode towards the dancers.

*

Pressing a hand to her corseted stomach, Mina allowed herself to revel in nostalgia. It was a useless thing to do, but she gave herself a moment to pine for the fashions of her younger years. For most ladies, the voluminous skirts and full corsets showcased their figure to best advantage compared to the demi-corsets and empire silhouettes of her youth, but it had the opposite effect for ladies with a fuller figure like Mina. Though a defined waist was flattering, the wretched undergarments needed to force her rounded middle into that unnatural shape were not as comfortable as simply hiding behind loose layers of muslin.

Such was life, and it did no good to bemoan the changes wrought by time and progress.

But her contemplations of fashions were cut short at the sight of two of her favorite people striding towards her through the crowd. Dropping Simon’s arm, she hurried forward and wrapped her sister-in-law in an embrace.

“You said you weren’t returning for another fortnight, Tabby! Were you able to finish your research so soon?”

Leaning on his cane, Mina’s brother strode up beside his wife, exchanging her embrace for his as the couple greeted his sister and her husband.

“The book can wait,” said Graham with a smile.

Tabby turned her gaze to the other guests like a huntress in search of prey and added with a scalding tone, “Do you think I could remain on the Continent when that woman has descended upon you again?”

“We only arrived a few hours ago, but Tabby insisted we attend tonight when she discovered the invitation among our post,” added Graham, threading his wife’s arm through his.

Tabby’s head swiveled about, searching the ballroom. “Where is that harpy?”

Graham’s blue eyes lit, and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “Tabby has spoken of nothing else since we received your letter. I wasn’t going to get any peace until we returned.”

Mina gave them a wry smile. “And much has happened of late, most of which I detailed in other letters you are unlikely to have received—”

But the conversation and the return of her dear brother and sister-in-law faded from Mina’s thoughts as she caught sight of a young lady entering the ballroom.

The year was 1844. Mina knew it. This was an unshakable fact. Yet, Mina’s heart felt as though it had returned to 1811 at the sight of Sophie Banfield striding into the ballroom. Fashions had changed from those older days, but strip away those surface changes, and Mina would swear she was staring at a young Susannah Banfield.

Blinking to clear her eyes of the image of the elder Mrs. Banfield’s face, Mina struggled to separate the young Miss Banfield and her mother. Their time spent together over the past sennight or so had shown the many, many