Page 74 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
And God, aren’t I aware of it.
All night I’ve been watching her, spinning around the ballroom in Buckingham Palace. If she didn’t look just as—if not more—bored as me, it would be a scene taken straight out of an eighteen hundreds silent movie. She changes suitors when she’s supposed to, smiles at all the right cues and dances just like she was taught to in those ghastly ballroom dance lessons we were forced to take as kids. I know she’s proud of herself.
“Please, don’t make me look a fool, Arthur,” my mother says again. “Go and dance with her.”
“I told you, I’m dizzy.”
“I’m not surprised, you’ve probably got vertigo from sitting down all night.”
She stands beside where I’m sitting at a table, her champagne glass covering her mouth. Talking about Astrid, by the way, not Phoebe.
I wave my hand over to her. “She’s got company, I don’t want to be rude.”
“When have you ever cared about being rude?” She nudges my shoulder. “Go over there and talk.”
I roll my eyes, stand up, go over to her and the other girl she’s talking to—her cousin, I believe?
Not only is it boring as fuck and hot as a furnace in here, my suit weighs a tonne. All these medals attached to it. I don’t even know what half of them mean apart from the jubilee ones. But it’s not just a black tie thing, tonight—it’s full uniform.
Astrid bows so does the girl who I think is her cousin. I also bow because I think I should (might’ve just made myself look like a massive dick but I’m sure The Sun will let me know tomorrow).
“How are you?” She smiles, clutching a flute.
“I’m very good. And you?”
I fight the urge to shove my hands in my pockets.
“I’m well, thank you.” She gestures to the girl standing beside her. “This is my cousin, Sofia. This is her first ball, she’s feeling very out of her depth tonight.”
I nod my head, she bows again. “You’ll be fine,” I tell her with what I hope is a comforting smile. “Just make sure you don’t step on anyone’s toes.”
She laughs. She looks just the same as Astrid. Blonde hair, blue eyes—all around very European.
“Thank you, you look very well.”
“Oh, this old thing?” I gesture to my uniform. “I just chucked on the first thing I found.”
She giggles, Astrid laughs and places her hand on my shoulder. “Would you mind getting me another drink?” She hands her cousin the glass.
When she walks off, Astrid hooks her arm through mine, leaning in close. “Why haven’t you danced with Phoebe yet?”
“Dancing isn’t really my thing.”
“Sure it is,” she slaps my chest. “Dancing is everyone’s thing.”
“Why haven’t I seen you dancing, then?” I look at her, smile.
She sighs. “I was waiting for you.”
“Because a man has to make all the moves?”
Astrid side-eyes me. “Do I look like somebody who would get down on my knee?”
Tilt my head. “Fair enough.”
“Come on, we can dance. I’m sure our parents would love that.”
“I’m sure they would,” I mutter as she drags me into the center of the room.
