around the room, Octavia waving at a few people she recognized. Ana Maria didn’t recognize anyone, which made her breathe a tiny sigh of relief.
The people looked more like the customers at Miss Ivy’s than the usual Society gathering; there was a looser feeling here than Ana Maria was accustomed to. It felt comfortable, as though this was the place she could be both Ana Maria of belowstairs and Ana Maria the duke’s cousin.
Lady Oxymoron, as usual.
“Good evening, Miss Octavia.” A couple stood in front of them, the pair fashionably dressed, though something about their demeanor suggested they were wealthy rather than aristocratic.
“Good evening,” Octavia replied. She gestured toward Ana Maria. “This is Lady Ana Maria Dutton, and these are the Marchfields. Mr. Marchfield has interests in several ventures. I believe you are finding funding for a railway at the moment?”
Mr. Marchfield’s mouth eased into a twinkling smile. “Don’t give away my secrets,” he said, wagging his finger censoriously, but speaking in a humorous tone. “In fact, it is because of that venture we wanted most particularly to speak to you.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Marchfield said, “we have a presentation room where we receive potential investors, and we want to make it look as appropriate and professional as possible, and we were hoping you might help us, since Miss Ivy’s looks so good?”
Octavia beamed. “The person responsible for that is actually my friend here.”
“Oh!” the Marchfields exclaimed.
“Do you take commissions?” Mr. Marchfield asked.
Ana Maria gazed in shock at them for a moment before Octavia replied. “Of course she does, I will send her information round to you tomorrow. But be prepared—her work costs a pretty penny.”
Mrs. Marchfield shrugged in dismissal. “If the results do what we think they will, we won’t have a concern about that.” She waved her hand over her head. “Dorcas! You are here!” She turned to her husband. “Come, dear, we need to speak with Dorcas immediately, her husband has expressed an interest. Do excuse us,” she continued, speaking to Octavia and Ana Maria.
“Of course,” they murmured.
Octavia nudged Ana Maria. “Look, didn’t I tell you? You’ll be able to do all the good works you want and make money. Not that you need to make money—”
“But having a purpose beyond standing in ballrooms is definitely gratifying,” Ana Maria added. “Oh, goodness, that is so exciting!”
If she could truly do something with what she enjoyed she thought she might be as happy as either of the two sisters who ran Miss Ivy’s, both of whom crackled with an electricity that had to have come from finding purpose in their lives.
And she could, as Octavia said, help redecorate some places to aid them in their search for funds.
“Now that you might have a purpose in life, shall we walk around and see if we can find your other purpose? Your behemoth?” Octavia asked.
“He’s not my—oh never mind,” Ana Maria replied, taking her friend’s arm and beginning to walk.
“I don’t see him. Someone that large would surely stand out?”
“It’s fine if he isn’t in attendance,” Ana Maria said airily. As if she weren’t lying through her teeth. “The evening is not for me to see him. It is to spend time with you.”
“Liar,” Octavia teased.
“Fine. Yes. I don’t know anymore. I just know—”
“What?”
They paused at the corner of the room, turning so they could survey the crowd. It felt so much more comfortable for Ana Maria to be here than to be in and among all of Society’s best people.
Perhaps she could find some level of comfort. Maybe there would even be a gentleman who would understand her conundrum, a gentleman who wasn’t terrified of being aligned with her who she was also intrigued by.
“If only you weren’t looking for him. Because guess what is over there?” Octavia grinned and pointed toward where Nash stood, all toweringly tall handsomeness of him, at the entrance to the ballroom.
Ana Maria smacked her friend’s hand down, feeling her face heat. “Stop that!”
“What? It’s not as though he hasn’t already seen you.”
Ana Maria tried to casually move her gaze around the room so her focal point wouldn’t be too obvious. Except that when she did look at him, he was staring right at her, so intently it felt as though he was branding her.
“Oh,” she said on an exhale.
Octavia waved her hand in front of her face. “It has gotten awfully heated in here, don’t you think?”
“Stop teasing me!” Ana Maria spoke in a sharp whisper.
“But it’s so much fun!” Octavia exclaimed. “Your face turns