“But I keep confusing the steps,” she said. “You make it seem so natural.”
“It is natural—to me,” he said flatly. “I spent hours upon hours practicing these steps as a boy. If I misstepped, my dance master had a cane he would bring down on the back of my calves. I learned quickly not to misstep.”
“Oh,” she said rather inadequately.
His world was so different from hers. While she’d been learning to cook, mend, and pinch pennies as a child, he’d learned to master these silly, intricate steps. She pictured him, a proud little boy, dancing all by himself in a large, elegant ballroom, his only company a cruel dance master.
She shivered.
His brows knit. “You’re cold. Let’s go in.”
She nodded gratefully.
They stepped back into the ballroom, which seemed more crowded than ever.
“Would you like some punch?” Caire asked.
Temperance nodded again. He found an empty chair for her near a huge vase of flowers, and she sat while he went off in search of refreshment. The hour was growing late now, the scent of half-burned candles pervading the room. Temperance saw several ladies employ their fans and wished rather wistfully for one of her own. Then she was chiding herself for wanting more when Caire had already given her so much for this night. Perhaps he was right: perhaps no matter how much a person had, they could still be unhappy.
A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she saw Sir Henry making his way through the crowd. Oh, goodness! How awkward if he should see her. Temperance turned her head away and lifted her hand to her coiffure as if checking to see if her jeweled pins were still in place.
“Have you dropped something?” a feminine voice said nearby.
Temperance looked up, startled, and met Lady Hero’s wide gray eyes. She had taken the seat next to Temperance’s, and while the lady didn’t smile, her expression was quite pleasant.
Temperance realized she was staring and remembered that she’d been asked a question. “Oh. Oh, no, my lady.”
“Someone has told you who I am,” Lady Hero said.
“Yes.”
“Ah.” Lady Hero looked at her lap. “It was to be expected, I suppose.” She glanced up and caught Temperance’s eye, smiling a little crookedly. “I find people treat me differently when they know my name.”
“Oh.” Temperance wasn’t sure how exactly to respond to that, because, of course, Lady Hero was quite correct: A duke’s daughter was treated differently. “I am Temperance Dews.”
Lady Hero smiled more fully. “How do you do?” This close, Temperance could see a fine sprinkling of freckles across her nose. They only served to highlight Lady Hero’s smooth, white complexion.
Sir Henry chose that moment to walk past them. She met his embarrassed eyes before quickly looking away.
Lady Hero followed her gaze. “That man is a toad.”
“I beg your pardon?” Temperance blinked. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly. Did the daughters of dukes call gentlemen toads?
Apparently they did. Lady Hero nodded. “Sir Henry Easton, yes? He looks agreeable enough, I’ll grant you, but he has definite toad tendencies. I say”—her brows knit slightly—“he hasn’t done anything to you, has he?”
“No.” Temperance wrinkled her nose. “Well, yes. He tried to kiss me.”
Lady Hero winced. “Horrifying.”
“It was, really. And rather disappointing, too. You see, I thought he might be interested in my foundling home, but he wasn’t. I’m afraid it was rather foolish of me.”
“Ah,” Lady Hero said, sounding wise. “I don’t think you should blame yourself, you know. Toadlike gentlemen generally try to kiss ladies entirely unprovoked. Or at least that is what I have been led to believe. No gentleman has ever attempted to press his unwanted attentions upon me, of course. Duke’s daughter and all that.” Lady Hero sounded just a tad disappointed.
Temperance smiled. She would never have guessed that a duke’s daughter would be so delightful to talk to.
“But tell me about this foundling home,” Lady Hero said. “I’ve never met a lady who managed one.”
“Oh!” Temperance felt a pleasurable rush of confusion. “Well, the Home for Unfortunate Infants and Foundling Children is in St. Giles, and we take care of eight and twenty children at the moment, but we could take care of ever so much more if only we had a patron for the home.” Her shoulders slumped. “That’s why I was so hopeful of Sir Henry.”
Lady Hero shook her head. “I’m sorry. Do you have both girls and boys at your home?”