"I need to sit," she told him when the dance that would never end finally did. This time she headed for the small room where they'd set up refreshments and took a chair there. "Ahh," she breathed as she dropped onto it.
He snatched a few marzipan fruits and brought them to the table with two cups of punch. "What was wrong with him?" he asked, sitting beside her.
"The same thing that's wrong with every other man here tonight. They have nothing to say of significance." She munched on a miniature apple, hoping the sweet almond paste confection would revive her. "They talk only about themselves. Or their property."
He devoured a piece of marzipan in two bites. "Their goal is to impress you. What else should they talk about?"
"Why should they think I'll be impressed by the number of acres they own or the new horse they just bought at Tattersall's?" She drained the cup of tepid punch, telling herself it was refreshing. "I trust you wouldn't introduce me to anyone of insufficient means or a man after nothing but my dowry. I don't particularly care what these gentlemen own; I'd much rather know what they think."
"About what?"
"Life. The state of the kingdom. Walter Scott's latest book. Anything."
"Have you asked them?"
"No," she admitted to both her brother and herself. She hadn't. She'd let the men lead both the dances and the conversations, but perhaps it would be best to take the latter into her own hands. "I'll try that. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Ah," he added, rising. "Here comes Lord Sandborough now."
The next dance was a waltz, and Lord Sandborough was a superb waltzer. If it felt a bit odd to be held by a strange man, at least he was a dashing one. He had golden hair and merry green eyes, and his evening clothes hung nicely on his well-proportioned frame.
As they glided over the floor, she decided that, yes, she could imagine marrying this man. She considered giving him the look, but instead she cast about for a good question, finally remembering one she'd asked Tris. "Do you believe there is only one perfect person for each of us in this world?"
"Indeed." He smiled, displaying nice teeth. "And I'm certain my person is you."
He didn't even know her! Suddenly he wasn't so dashing. Stupidity—not to mention insincerity—had a way of tarnishing a person's appearance.
Griffin introduced her to five more men, one after the other, and she danced on her aching feet with all of them. Three of them claimed she was their perfect person. Lord Jamestone said yes, he believed there was only one perfect person for each of them in this world, but alas, his lady had died. Though he assured her he was willing to settle for second best, for some reason she couldn't see herself in that role.
The fifth man apparently couldn't wrap his mind around the question. He simply declared that his mother had often assured him nobody was perfect. Alexandra assumed that was because he was very imperfect indeed.
She couldn't recall his name, but privately christened him Lord Sapskull.
Though the long great hall could be accessed from the dining room on one end and a corridor leading to the guest chambers on the other, it also had its own impressive entrance in the middle, complete with a grand staircase from the quadrangle. As the dance with Lord Sapskull came to its blessed end, three late guests appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Rachael!" Alexandra cried, hurrying to meet them. "And Claire and Elizabeth!" One by one, she wrapped Rachael and her sisters in welcoming hugs.
Her own sisters appeared, too, and the hugs were repeated.
"We're sorry," Rachael apologized. "I was certain we'd be your very first arrivals, but a carriage wheel broke on the way."
Though their estates adjoined, Cainewood Castle was at one end of Griffin's property, and Rachael's home was at the far end of Greystone. It took a good two hours to ride between them in a carriage, even one with all its wheels intact. "I understand," Alexandra assured her. "You'll stay the night, won't you?"
"Absolutely." Rachael's smile was impish. "We wouldn't want to miss the breakfast. Seeing how everyone looks in the morning is much more amusing than the actual ball."
They all shared a laugh. "All of you look lovely," Juliana said.
Claire, the middle sister, grinned. "Since Noah wasn't home to consult, we decided he would want us to have new dresses." She twirled in hers, white lace over pale violet satin with a neckline every bit as low as Alexandra's. Her unusual amethyst eyes danced, and she'd teased some of her curly raven hair into little ringlets that framed her face. At nineteen, Claire was already an accomplished flirt. "Do you like it?"
"How about mine?" Elizabeth, a year younger, wore blue and green stripes. They went well with her green eyes and the sleek dark hair she'd swept up into her feathered headdress. She dipped into a deep curtsy worthy of royalty. "My lady."
Alexandra laughed as she took her hand to help her rise. "You're more than ready for presentation at court." Along with Alexandra's sisters, Elizabeth would be coming out next year. "And you're both stunning."
But neither of them could match their eldest sister. A dress of poppy-red muslin sprigged with gold clung to Rachael's slim curves. Double rows of gold lace embellished the bodice and hem, and a broad band of gold lace circled the high waistline. Her hair was tucked into a headdress of gold and poppy satin, and the loose strands that framed her face weren't curled like her sisters', but left to fall in soft waves.
"May I paint you in that dress?" Corinna asked reverently.
"When Noah gets home, perhaps I'll be able to find time to sit."
"By the lake, I think," Corinna said, staring into the distance in that way she did when she was envisioning a
