“I would never insist on such a thing, Miss Anne,” he assured her.
“My sister does not dance well, you see,” Miss Lawson interjected with false sympathy. “Poor thing, such weak ankles, and she has such trouble remembering the steps.”
Anne gave her sister a cold look. “I remember well enough to practice with you at your command.”
Miss Lawson was not put off. “But confidence is best for the lead couple, is it not? And Anne has no confidence when it comes to dancing.”
“Nor do I, Miss Lawson,” Michael replied, not bothering to keep with the cool politeness he had begun. “I dance for enjoyment, not attention.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Tyrone said with a laugh. “Then all the snobs would flock to dance with you instead of refusing.” He nodded at Miss Lawson, then at Michael before leaving the group.
Michael turned to Miss Anne as the music commenced. “Shall we?”
Tension ran along Miss Anne’s jaw, but she nodded all the same. “Please, Mr. Sandford.”
Without a single word to Miss Lawson, the two of them moved out to the dance floor, lining up with other couples.
“I cannot apologize enough, Mr. Sandford,” Miss Anne half-whispered, her cheeks red. “My sister…”
“It is entirely unnecessary, Miss Anne,” Michael told her, offering a smile. “If I may say so, I know a bully when I encounter one, and I have yet to find one that I like. I only hope this dance may bring you pleasure enough to be worth her spite.”
Anne laughed once, though seemingly without humor. “I doubt it. Roslyn hasn’t had anything but spite for me since we were children. Is it horrible to say such a thing about one’s sister?”
“Not to me.” He bowed over her hand, backing up to his spot.
“You’re too kind.”
The dance began and Michael found his attention drawn to just behind Anne, where Charlotte stood.
Watching him.
If she suspected what he was up to, she gave no indication. At the present, those around her were talking with each other, leaving her without conversation, yet not without company. Her dark eyes were on him, her lips curved in a relaxed, contented smile that was rarely seen in public. Oh, she smiled regularly, always wore a bright expression, and surely thrived upon the energy, but this private moment, this private smile, was not something one saw often outside of her home. Why did the sight of it affect him as much as seeing her arrive had?
Her smile spread just a touch as she caught him watching, and she tilted her head, spreading her hands out just a little. How do I look? The question was an obvious one, and he would have given the world not to answer it.
Thankfully, the dance permitted brevity, which she would understand. She needn’t know there was nothing more he would want to say.
Michael swallowed once, then nodded once, barely a dip of his chin, but enough to be considered an answer. He saw Charlotte nod in return but did not look long enough to know much else.
He returned his attention to his partner, someone he already liked more than he’d expected after a five-minute acquaintance, and waited for their turn to join in. “Would it help if I laughed during our dance, Miss Anne?”
Anne snickered, her thumbs rubbing against her fists at her side. “Probably not. The last man who laughed during a dance with me found himself shamelessly pursued by Roslyn, all the way into the army.”
“Good heavens,” Michael coughed in surprise.
“It’s all for the best, though,” Anne whispered with a quick grin. “He and I still write, and I think he may offer for me when he returns.”
Well, there went any potential suit for Anne Lawson, but at least he could enjoy a dance with a reasonable girl.
“So I may consider myself safe from you, then?” he asked, laughing with her. “And you are safe from me?”
“I’m afraid so,” Anne said, glancing up the line of dancers before looking at Michael again. “But not, I trust, from Roslyn.”
He shuddered. “If the way she looked at me was any indication, she’d rather offer for that footman on the east wall.”
Anne looked where he indicated and pretended to consider it. “Well, he is mightily good looking…”
Michael coughed a laugh, then reached for Anne’s hand as they finally joined the other couples in the dance.
Chapter Nine
Surprises are a part of life, so one must become adjusted to the unanticipated. Accept the good, adapt to the bad, and move forward in preparation for the next unanticipated event.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 24 November 1817
“So how were things at the Preston ball? I’m ever so sorry to have missed it.”
Charlotte wrinkled up her nose, picking up her tea. “Well enough. I didn’t get on with the Prestons’ son, but I got the impression that no one particularly cared. Julian Bruce doesn’t talk when he dances, which is not a crime, but it certainly made the whole thing less enjoyable. I met a lovely fellow named Mr. Riley, but only for a moment. If I see him again, I may inquire further.” She shrugged, sipping slowly. “It seemed a lot of fuss for precious little results.”
“Results that you could see,” Grace murmured with a hum. She winked at Kitty Morton, who snickered at it. “The gossips were delightfully unsettled by it.”
“They were?” Charlotte sat up and slapped a hand on her arm rest. “What did they say?”
Grace rolled her eyes and set her own tea down. “Let me see if I can recall.”
“I think you’ll find you can,” Charlotte demanded, hating when her friends intentionally put her off for their own enjoyment.
“Give her a moment,” Georgie told her without much sympathy. “It can be very vexing to recall so many details in the days following.”
Charlotte threw her a glare. “It has been barely two, and the only reason we did not gather yesterday was because my head ached after the lateness of the
