Page 18 of The Wallflower Manifesto
“Gretchen Waters,” Hannah Lazarus said with a sigh. “That's her name. She danced thepolonaisewith Mr. Danvers, the only gentleman who askedmefor a dance tonight.
“It doesn’t mean he prefers her—” Millie began.
Hannah cut her off, haste and a little panic in her voice, “No, of course he may dance with whom he pleases. But, when it was time formydance, the quadrille, I couldn’t find him in the crowd. I was sad to miss my opportunity to dance, but that isn’t what made me cry. Once the music began, I found him, but not in the crowd. He was dancing with Gretchen again. And he looked besotted.”
“Ah.” Millie frowned, feeling a sympathetic ache tug at her own chest. “I suppose he has shown that he is no gentleman after all.”
“Then why do I still want my dance with him?” Hannah sighed, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “What does someoneso desired want with him, anyway? She doesn’t know me from Adam, and still I feel as though she somehow did this deliberately. Why else would she give two dances to a man of modest means and plain face?”
There was no answer to be had, of course. Not without speaking to Miss Waters directly, anyhow.
“From experience,” Millie said, “I often danced with men I did not choose because my mama willed it. Perhaps it was the same for Miss Waters. In any event, it is not she who crossed you, it is Mr. Danvers. I suggest you proceed through the evening and perhaps the Season as a whole as though he no longer exists.”
Hannah considered it, a slight smile teasing at a corner of her lips. “I can try.”
“All any of us can do is try.”
“I think I am doomed to be a wallflower, Miss Yardley.”
Millie smiled. “If you are, is it really the worst thing? One can learn a lot from the periphery. But I think you might surprise yourself, all the same.”
A twig snapped nearby, accompanied by the crackle of disturbed leaves and a sharp, grunted “Och!”in a distinctly masculine voice. It made both ladies startle and turn their heads toward the pergola.
Perhaps it hadn’t been a trick of the light after all. Shehadseen someone when they entered the garden. Millie frowned.
“You ought to head back inside,” she said to the younger woman. “There is still time tonight to find a better dance partner if you wish, and if not, that is just fine too.”
She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile and accompanied the young lady back up the path, until she could watch her go back through the glass doors into the ballroom.
She waited a beat and then turned on her heel and marched back into the thick of the garden, the torches sputtering with the speed in which she passed them.
When she had almost reached the pergola, she put her hands on her hips and said with no small volume, “You can come out now, Mr. Murphy. In fact, I think you had better.”
Abe shuffledout of the hedges with as much dignity as he could muster, attempting a bright smile and an air of surprise.
“Miss Yardley! Fancy seeing you here.”
She blinked at him, unimpressed. “Mr. Murphy, what on earth are you doing?”
“I’m enjoying the party!” he said, closing the distance between them. “What else?”
“You are not dressed for the ball,” she pointed out. “And there are leaves in your hair. Did you climb the garden fence to get in here?”
“What? Oh, this,” he chuckled, snatching the bastard leaf in question from his temple. “I just had a stumble.”
She stared at him, her expression unchanging. She looked rather magnificent like this, actually: stood akimbo with diamonds in her dark hair and a gauzy toga-like dress hugging her generouscurves. She looked like a vengeful goddess come to pass judgment on his sorry arse.
She scoffed, shaking her head at him. "Am I to believe this to be yet another coincidence? You are very obviously following Lady Bentley. Why?"
"Oh, is she here tonight?" he said thinly, biting down on an urge to giggle as she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't suppose you'd believe I'm still on the trail of the jewel thief?"
“Jewels aplenty for the stealing out here in the garden, are there?” she said, each word bone dry.
“Well, I didn’t have an invite, you see,” he answered, scratching at his chin. “This seemed like the best way to observe quietly, in case the brigand strikes again.”
“Mr. Murphy, I imagine if you made your chivalrous intentions known to the hosts of this ball, they might have allowed you in through the front door. As it stands, I think we both know you are not hunting a jewel thief here tonight.”
He bit his lip, considering this. “It isn’t a bad idea. Perhaps next time you’ll have to suffer me in the main ballroom.”
