arm again to escort Victoria from the floor. Before he released her, he bowed low over her hand and met her eyes with the sort of tenderness a father might bestow on a daughter.
“Do not give up on a future with Mr. Dixon. There may be yet a solution that brings you two together.”
Squeezing his hand, Victoria felt like embracing the gentleman and basking in the affection steeped in his words. But even as it warmed her through, a shudder ran down her spine and settled into her stomach with a sickening thud.
“I do not see how we can be together—no matter how I may wish differently,” she whispered. “My family depends upon me, sir, and I cannot sacrifice their happiness for mine.”
Mr. Flemming straightened and nodded, though his expression seemed to say he refused to accept her statement. “I wish you well, Miss Caswell. I truly do.”
And with a final nod, he strode away, leaving Victoria alone. Skirting the wall, she avoided her usual groups of people in favor of a bit of solitude. It was not something she often craved, but at present, it seemed a little bit of paradise. A moment to clear her mind and to simply stand apart and not think about anything but the swirl of dancers and the strains of the music.
Victoria spied Mr. Dixon long before he appeared beside her. She felt his presence drawing closer, though he did not speak as he stood there, his shoulder brushing against hers. When the song ended and the next dance began, he slanted a gaze in her direction with a silent invitation written in his expression.
“I do not think it wise, Elijah—” Victoria winced and amended, “Mr. Dixon.”
Leaning close, he whispered, “It is just a dance, Victoria.”
When she opened her mouth to argue, Elijah wrapped his hand around hers, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric.
“For one night, can we not pretend there are no impediments? Play the part of a courting couple lost in the joy of their love?” he whispered as his thumb brushed against her palm. That delicate touch raised goosebumps along her arms, and her cheeks flushed with the warmth that swept through her.
Victoria’s mouth attempted to answer, but her thoughts couldn’t stray from the feel of his touch and how desperately she wanted to be wrapped in his arms.
“If we are bound to a tragic fate, can we not spend one evening embracing that fantasy?” he asked.
“And break our hearts all the more when reality comes crashing in?” Victoria hated herself for asking the question, but one of them had to keep a level head. No good could come from ignoring reality. Yet, her feet moved closer until his shoes brushed the edges of her skirts; Victoria knew she ought to put some distance between them but could not force her body to comply.
“My heart is no more at risk than it was before,” he said with a sad smile. “And should I be denied the joy of having you as my wife, at least I would have the memory of tonight.”
No matter how she might steel her heart, Victoria could not remain unmoved by such a declaration. Slipping her arm through his, she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor and took her place in his arms, unwilling to think of the consequences of holding him closer than was altogether seemly.
If tonight was all they’d have together, Victoria wouldn’t waste another moment of it.
***
A ball was not an exciting thing. Sophie had never found much enjoyment in the noise and hubbub of crowds. But with Mr. Kingsley at her side, she couldn’t think of a finer way to spend an evening. Even when she was forced to dance with another, Mr. Kingsley was there with her, watching from the side, and it was easy to pretend it was he who squired her about the dance floor. And once over, he awaited her with a glass of punch at the ready, should she need it.
Clinging to Mr. Kingsley’s arm, Sophie avoided looking at any other gentleman, lest even a fleeting acknowledgment might induce the fellow to ask for her dance and pull her away from the preferred partner. But no matter where she went, Mr. Kingsley’s gaze followed her. Even if she couldn’t see him, Sophie felt his eyes following her like a silent partner skipping alongside every reel, mazurka, and quadrille.
Mr. Kingsley leaned closer to whisper, “It is a shame I cannot monopolize every