raptors. They scanned Charlotte like canny shoppers considering a purchase, and immediately turned their attention back to the party.
“I declare, if Sara Lewis continues to damp her gowns in that shameless way she’ll catch a chill and expire one day soon,” said either Mrs. Reverton or Mrs. Prine.
Following their gaze, Charlotte observed a young woman whose gauzy pink gown clung to her like a second skin, revealing a surprising lack of… anything underneath.
“She imagines it will bring young Thornton up to scratch,” replied either Mrs. Prine or Mrs. Reverton. “A peek at the goods, so to speak.” She tittered. “Look at him, practically drooling on her.”
Her companion nodded, and Charlotte gave up trying to differentiate them. There was a gawky young man bent over the girl in pink. He was nearly a foot taller and so thin he looked like a scarecrow in evening dress. He also looked as if he could scarcely believe she was smiling at him.
“She underestimates his mother,” Lady Isabella commented.
“Don’t they always?” The three exchanged knowing looks. “How often does a girl without money or connections have any wits?”
“Very rarely.” Lady Isabella’s tone was bone dry. “Oh, my, there’s Teddy Symmes.”
The others gave small gasps. “No, where?”
“Over there, near the garden doors.”
Their heads swiveled. “He has the cheek to appear in public?”
“There weren’t any charges filed,” Lady Isabella pointed out.
“But, my dear, everyone knows. Caught with his footman! How can he show his face?” They stared at a stocky man near the French doors as if he were a bizarre zoo animal. Charlotte almost asked what was so shocking about being in the company of one’s servant, but decided not to reveal her ignorance. She didn’t want that battery of eagle eyes turned on her.
The three women’s conversation continued in this vein. They had forgotten all about Charlotte, seemingly, and she learned much more than she wanted to know about a number of people in the crowd. She began to wish that the musical part of the evening would begin, so that they could turn their attention to something else. It took her another half hour to understand that the quartet playing on the small balcony was the promised entertainment. An occasional run of notes threaded through the din of conversation, never enough to decide what they were actually playing.
She grew just a little weary of standing in one place. Lady Isabella was clearly too occupied to introduce her to some lively young people, as she had promised. Edward did not seem to be present, as she had thought he would be, and she didn’t know anyone except the Danforths. One couldn’t just speak to people without an introduction, even if she’d had the nerve. Of course, she was enjoying herself immensely; she took care to show it with a bright smile. She sipped from a glass of champagne. It made her cheeks even hotter in the rising heat of the room, and then she was left with the empty glass and no servant in sight.
“May I take that for you?”
Charlotte started, turned, and found Sir Alexander Wylde at her side. Surprise made her blurt the first thing that came into her head. “How did you find me?”
“I had my own invitation for this evening.”
Charlotte’s cheeks grew hotter still. Of course he didn’t inquire where she was and follow her to this gathering. Why would he? He belonged to the ton, belonged at this party, whereas she was here on sufferance.
He looked very elegant in evening dress, with an air, a way of holding himself, that was quite different from his manner at home. Charlotte was reminded, suddenly, of the moment when he had rescued her from Holcombe in one slashing sentence.
He drew her a little away from Lady Isabella and her friends. They were so deep in their dissection of some hapless deb that they didn’t notice. He took her empty glass and somehow made it go away. People passing nodded cordial greetings, and he acknowledged them. “You are enjoying yourself?”
“Of course.”
He bent closer. “What?”
Like Lady Isabella and her friends, he seemed to know how to pitch his voice to be heard above the cacophony. Charlotte felt she was practically shouting when she repeated, “Of course.”
“Good.”
The single word, his expression, made her feel defensive for some reason. “It is a lovely party, is it not? Very interesting to see a bit of society.” She was aware of a stubborn set to her chin, but she didn’t care. His green eyes met hers with what