Charlotte made her way back to the dancing with steam practically pouring from her ears. Not only had she been stuck in that room for a time, she had then been rescued by one of the most handsome gentlemen she had ever set eyes on, who, much to her dismay, had looked quite astonished at finding her so. He had been gazing around the room to see who else might be in there with her and, on finding no one, had assumed that she might have had some kind of falling out with a gentleman lover.

Her cheeks burned with heat. She was going to throttle Lady Emma.

Making her way carefully down the stairs, Charlotte caught sight of Lady Emma watching her with a smug expression, before turning and lightly tapping the arm of the gentleman next to her with her fan, laughing at something he said. Charlotte wanted nothing more than to march over there, grab her fan from her, and practically beat her with it; but instead, she chose to remain in the shadows until she was composed enough to continue.

Oh, Lady Emma had been very cunning indeed, telling her--with a horrified expression of course—that Aunt Agatha had collapsed and was now in the small room at the other end of the house. Charlotte had not even thought to consider that her stepsister was lying to her and had hurried after her at once. Lady Emma had led the way up the staircase and along the balcony until they came to a small room with the door a little ajar. Charlotte had entered and—on seeing no one there—had turned back to speak to Lady Emma, thinking she had gone to the wrong room, only for the door to be slammed shut.

It had taken her a second to realize what had happened.

Even as she had rushed to the door, she had heard the key turning in the lock and had heard Lady Emma’s cry of delight in succeeding in her mission.

“That will teach you to try and get your claws into Lord Martin!” Lady Emma had shouted through the door, thumping on it once with her fist. “You come second, Charlotte. Stay away from my acquaintances.”

Charlotte had banged on the door in fury, going from begging and pleading to outright anger, but nothing had happened. Lady Emma had clearly left her in the locked room and returned to the ball, not caring in the least about what happened to Charlotte. It had only been by good fortune that the Marquess of Withington had come by and heard her frustration.

But now, however, her absence would have been noted and her dance partners left without her company. Such a thing could easily start some rumor or another, which was possibly what Lady Emma wanted. Lifting her chin, Charlotte stepped out from the shadows and made her way towards a group of gentlemen and ladies, seeing that some of her dance partners were there.

“Gentlemen!” she exclaimed, putting on what she hoped was a sorrowful expression. “I must beg your forgiveness for missing our dances.”

“Ah, Miss Richardson,” said one gentleman, frowning heavily. “We wondered where you had disappeared to. You have missed at least two dances.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I am terribly sorry, but it could not be helped,” she said quietly, as though devastated by the loss of their company. “A rather large gentleman trod on my foot and almost pulled me to the ground!”

A gasp came from one of the ladies present, and Charlotte took the opportunity to sigh heavily. “I had to have a maid fix both my gown and my coiffure, and I am afraid it took some time.”

Letting a long, languid sigh escape from her lips, Charlotte glanced around the group and saw the sheer sympathy on the other ladies’ faces.

“I had that happen to me once,” began one of them, before launching into a story about a disastrous night that had occurred the previous season. Charlotte listened carefully, making sure to sigh and shake her head at the right times, her heart slowly losing some of its anxiety as she saw the gentlemen nod and grunt in sympathy.

“I am quite sorry for what you have been through—for what you have all been through,” one of the gentlemen said loudly. “Although you can be assured, Miss Richardson, that I myself am not of that nature. I would never do such a thing.”

“How glad I am to hear it,” Charlotte replied, recalling the gentleman’s name. “Lord Wiltshire, I do believe you will have the opportunity to prove that point now, for it is soon to be our dance.”

The man’s face practically split open with a grin. “Capital!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand to her. “Shall we go?”

Thoroughly relieved that she was not about to have to do any more explaining as to her absence, Charlotte accepted Lord Wiltshire’s arm and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. She could not help but turn her head in search of Lady Emma, easily able to spot her fiery gaze as she too joined the other dancers. Charlotte gave her a triumphant smile, which was not returned. As far as Charlotte was concerned, Lady Emma needed to learn that she was not about to do as Emma requested, simply because it was she that requested it. Charlotte had every right to dance with whomever she chose, just as she was doing now, and Lady Emma would not affect that.

“Charlotte?”

As the dance came to an end, Charlotte saw Lady Perrin coming towards her, with a gentleman walking beside her. A little curious as to whom it might be, Charlotte took her leave of Lord Wiltshire, thanking him for the dance, before returning her attention to Lady Perrin. Much to her shock, she saw that Lady Perrin was accompanied by none other than the marquess who had freed her from the locked room on the balcony.

Her cheeks fired with heat.

“Ah, Charlotte, there you are,” Lady Perrin smiled, reaching for her hand. “I must introduce you to the Marquess of Withington.”

“My lord,” Charlotte murmured, dropping into a curtsy. “It is nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Indeed, it is,” the marquess replied, with a smile that warmed his eyes. “You must forgive me for finding out who you were, Miss Richardson. For you did not give me your name the last time I saw you.”

His smile broadened as he spoke, making her well aware of what he meant. Her cheeks burned all the hotter, as Lady Perrin gave her a somewhat curious look.

“Indeed, that was my oversight,” Charlotte mumbled, not quite sure where to look.

“Better that we do it the appropriate way, is it not?” the marquess replied jovially. “I am acquainted with Lady Emma’s father, although I have never been formally introduced to her. However, I found out from a friend that she had a stepsister and that you were both present this evening. Lord Martin was able to point you out, and I thought it best to greet Lady Perrin first, so we might be introduced properly.”

Charlotte’s smile was a little strained, aware that she was going to have to explain all to Lady Perrin later on. “That was very good of you, my lord,” she answered, finally managing to look into his face. “And may I thank you again for extraditing me from a rather difficult situation.”

He inclined his head, although his sharp blue eyes never left her face. “It was my pleasure,” he replied softly. “Now, I do hope you have one dance left free?”

“A dance?” Charlotte repeated, as a tingling began to crawl up and down her arms.

“If you would be so inclined,” he said and smiled, his eyes on her dance card. “Although I believe I may be a little too late in requesting the pleasure of your company.”

As though in a dream, Charlotte lifted her wrist and allowed him to peruse her dance card, her stomach churning with a mixture of delight and embarrassment.

“There,” he murmured, setting his name down on the only two dances remaining. “A quadrille and a waltz, Miss Richardson. May I say I am looking forward to both with great anticipation.”

“As am I,” Charlotte repeated, mechanically, not truly aware of what she was saying. Her mind refused to work as the marquess gave her a deep bow and took his leave of both her and Lady Perrin.

“Goodness!” Lady Perrin exclaimed, the moment the marquess was out of earshot. “Whatever happened to you, Charlotte?”

“Happened?” Charlotte asked, her eyes still on the marquess as he greeted some friends of his. “Oh, do you mean how does he knows who I am?”

Lady Perrin let out a quiet laugh, drawing Charlotte’s attention. “Yes, Charlotte. That is precisely what I mean. I was just sitting talking to Miss Judith—another companion, you see—when the marquess begs my pardon for interrupting and enquires as to whether I knew a Miss Richardson. When I said I did and that I was your stepsister’s aunt, he looked most delighted and then asked if you were quite all right!”

Charlotte recalled the surprised expression on the marquess’ face as he’d opened the door to find her trapped inside. “And what did you say?” she asked quietly.

“I said yes, as far as I knew, you were just fine.” Lady Perrin frowned, her eyes a little suspicious. “What happened, Charlotte?”

Charlotte bit her lip, not wanting to tell tales on Lady Emma. “Lady Emma and I had something of a disagreement,” she began, carefully. “Unfortunately, that disagreement ended with me being stuck in a room on the balcony.” Her color rose, as she saw the astonished expression on Lady Perrin’s face. “The marquess heard me knocking on the locked door and opened it for me, that is all,” she finished, hoping Lady Perrin did not ask for the details.

“I see,” Lady Perrin replied softly. “And might I guess that your dear stepsister had something to do with you being trapped?”

Charlotte lifted one shoulder, feeling a little uncomfortable. “It is of little consequence, Lady Perrin. I only missed two dances, and the gentlemen in question accepted my apologies without any difficulty.”

Lady Perrin nodded slowly, her expression growing a little grim. “Lady Emma is a selfish creature, but you appear strong enough to withstand her,” she answered after a moment. “And now you have been introduced to a marquess, so it is not an entirely bad outcome.”

“No,” Charlotte murmured, a sudden thrill of delight running through her as she glanced down at her dance card and saw his name there. “No, it is not at all upsetting, I must admit.”

“Just as well you have been given permission to waltz,” Lady Perrin quipped, with a quick smile. “I am glad to discover all is well, Charlotte. Do enjoy the rest of your evening and allow me to keep an eye on Lady Emma. I will ensure she does not attempt such a thing again.”

“Oh, please, do not say a word to her,” Charlotte begged, not wanting to put yet more enmity between herself and her stepsister. “It does not need to be said.”

Lady Perrin shook her head, her lips thinning. “Allow me to be the judge of what does or does not need to be said to Emma, Charlotte. On you go now, your next dance partner is waiting for you, I believe.”

A little worried, Charlotte had no choice but to leave Lady Perrin to do what she thought to be right, turning on her heel and seeing that Lord Waters was now waiting for her, his arm held out for her.

“Good evening, Lord Waters,” Charlotte said, as cheerfully as she could. “It is our dance, is it not?”

“It is,” Lord Waters replied with a bright smile. “Allow me to lead you onto the dance floor, Miss Richardson.”

Charlotte smiled and did as he bade, her mind still on the Marquess of Withington as she mentally counted how many dances she had yet to do before it would be his turn. She could hardly contain her excitement at being in his arms, her cheeks flushing at the thought. Lady Perrin was quite right. This evening had turned out wonderfully.