Page 14 of Ironvine

“I most certainly hope to dance with Miss Georgina if she is free?” With a small smile, he slanted his head in her direction.

Their heavy expectant gazes trampled her.

“Are you not free, sister?” Philippa’s voice was tense, so impatient.

“I am.” Her voice came out small.

“Excellent,” he replied, a grin curving his lips.

Everyone smiled at each other, their shoulders’ eased. Everyone except for Georgina. Smiles full of anticipations, hopes, plans, prospects. Calculations and carefully laid designs were being formed. Triumphs were ahead.

Music flared, and her body tensed.

“Shall we?” Sir Reginald offered his hand to her.

Georgina’s spine stiffened as she placed her hand in his thick, cold one. He led her to the dance floor, and they lined up for the dance.

They took the first steps. As she turned in the line, Georgina took in all the other dancers. She spotted Matthew with a new partner, Miss Alice Dunsmore, who they’d met earlier this week.

Matthew was her brother’s closest friend, and they’d known each other for ages and ages. She’d always had a soft spot for him. He was handsome and witty and enjoyed flirting with her and she with him. He had shown an interest in her, a true warmth on many occasions since she’d come out.

But she’d been in Devonshire this year and had missed all the parties in London and in Gloucestershire that Thomas had attended. She’d always gone along with him. Always danced with each of his friends and especially enjoyed dancing with Matthew.

She knew she was luckier than most girls. Having an older brother, she was introduced to his friends from an early age and had grown accustomed to the male sex. She was not frightened to speak her mind to them, to laugh. To dance.

But Matthew Penry was always different.

And now she was here, at the final event of the ton for the season, and instead of feeling that giddiness and glorious anticipation that she’d felt all day, it was as if a lead weight were in her bowels instead of the butterflies that had been there when they’d first arrived. She could barely move, let alone dance and keep the steps gracefully.

Sir Reginald circled her and she kept her gaze downward. She didn’t feel proud and pleased like she did when she danced with Matthew or any other fine young gentleman whose gaze she would hold. A sting erupted in her belly. How could her whole world change so completely in a matter of moments?

Couples laughed and smiled at one another, whirling around each other. Gaiety reigned, the very air thick with it like a perfume. It stifled her.

If only her dearest friend, Justine, were here, but she and her husband, Brandon, had left London after a very brief visit over a fortnight ago to return to their children at their estate in Gloucestershire.

Georgina and Sir Reginald swirled past Philippa and John, whose pleased gazes were fixed on them. She was drowning. If her family meant to affiance her so very quickly—as on the morrow—would she be returning to Devonshire with them instead of going back home to Gloucestershire with Thomas and Mother?

Of course.

Matthew bowed to his partner. A year ago, at another ball in London, he had brought her a glass of wine, his twinkling gaze holding hers so steadily. Dancing with her, laughing, squeezing her hand, sharingbon mots. She’d been so sure that he’d come to the house to call on her in the following days. And yet, he had not. There had never been any such visits from Matthew Penry.

He’d been the only man with whom she’d ever felt a flutter of feeling. Always, always, she’d hoped that as time had gone on, he’d see her as his choice for a wife, not simply as his good friend’s younger sibling to dance with, flirt with, tease.

That’s all she’d been to him, hadn’t she? He had no intention of pursuing her. All this time, wasted time, all her hopes had been in vain. A disappointment. Dashed hopes and disappointments were her familiar friends, weren’t they?

She turned to face her partner in time with the music, and Sir Reginald took both her hands in his, and they proceeded down the line. She raised her chin as they approached where Matthew stood. He caught her gaze, a soft grin sweeping his lips as she passed once more. She did not return his smile.

Alice delicately spun into Matthew’s loose embrace, and his lips brushed her hand. Tenderness laced with a sly promise. A hot sting seared Georgina’s chest at the sight. Alice’s cheeks flushed as they proceeded down the line.

And yet, he had tried to kiss her last evening. Said pretty words full of desires. He’d probably do the same with Alice tonight, wouldn’t he?

“Miss Georgina?” Sir Reginald’s husky voice interrupted her chaotic thoughts, and she met his gaze. No sparkle. Only obligation. Servitude. Her heart thudded in her chest. The dance had finished. They applauded the orchestra.

Her life as she knew it, as she’d always seen it, was over.

Smiling, he guided her back to her mother, sister, and brother-in-law. “Miss Georgina, I look forward to dancing with you again this evening.” He bowed his head, and she bowed hers to him without reply.

“So lovely.” Philippa beamed.

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