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“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF Mr. Winston,” Jane asked of Mildred as they stood against the wall waiting for the dancing to begin. “The gentleman staying with Mr. Harris. He seemed a handsome fellow.”

Mildred scanned the room but did not see him.

“I should say he is the most handsome of bachelors here,” added Mary.

“I prefer Mr. Wiggins, but Mr. Winston would certainly be second in my opinion. But I should not be surprised if he takes an interest in Mildred more than anyone.”

“In me?” Mildred felt an inner glow as she recalled how her hand had rested in his.

“Yes! All the bachelors seem to have taken an interest in you, now that you have a dowry of four thousand pounds.”

Mary heaved an envious sigh. “How lucky you are, Millie, to have such a generous cousin in the Marquess of Alastair.”

“She is lucky to have such a cousin, dowry or not.”

Perplexed, Mary raised her brows.

“You have not met the Marquess, but you would understand what I mean if you had.” Jane gave a mischievous smile.

“He is very handsome then?”

“Oh, he is more than that.”

“He has not the best of reputations,” said Mildred, feeling a little traitorous in speaking poorly of her cousin, but she spoke to convince herself as much as Mary.

“He cannot be all bad if he granted you such a generous dowry.”

“He should despair to hear you speak so well of him,” Mildred smiled. She frowned as she saw Mr. Carleton approach. “But I had rather he not be quite so generous.”

“Why would you not? I think you must have more suitors now than even Miss Rose.”

Yes, and she is none too happy about that,” said Mary with a giggle.

“Miss Abbott,” greeted Mr. Carleton, a gentleman upon whom grey was not the best of hues. He wore a touch too much pomade in his hair, but was otherwise decent in appearance. “May I have the honor of the first dance?”

Before she could answer, Mr. Porter had arrived and said, “I had thought to ask the same, but I will settle for a reel.”

“What say you, Miss Abbott? I think the quartet will begin to play any moment.”

Mildred hesitated, wanting to say that she felt too fatigued for dancing, but she was looking forward to taking the floor with Mr. Winston. She supposed she could tolerate one dance each with Mr. Carlton and Mr. Porter.

“Remember you promised the gig to me,” a voice behind her said.

Mildred turned her head and perked to see Mr. Winston.

Jane poked her subtly in the ribs as if to say, “I knew it.”

“That is correct,” Mildred said. “I did reserve the quadrille for Mr. Winston.”

“Then I will have the next dance,” said Mr. Carleton.

“Or, if I may be presumptuous—” Mr. Porter interjected.

Mildred imagined if Alastair could see the nettled state she was in, he would only be amused that he had produced such a fuss. He would have not an ounce of sympathy.

From across the room, she could see her mother talking to Mrs. Harrington as she pointed first toward Mr. Carleton, then at Mr. Porter. Then into her line of sight came Miss Hannah Rose, dressed in a gown that might have featured in the most recent issue of The Lady’s Magazine.

“There you are. We wondered where you had gone off to,” she addressed Mr. Winston, then noticing Mildred, her smile fell, but she recovered in the presence of others. “Why, Mildred, that gown looks quite charming upon you. I think it my favorite among all your gowns. I can see why you chose to wear it last week at the Westbrook soirée, and the week before that at Mrs. Wilmington's dinner. If I had that gown, I would be tempted to wear it often as well, but then people may think it my only gown.”

Mildred only smiled, for she was accustomed to these sorts of compliments from Hannah. Miss Rose was not a pretty young woman, though she had large eyes and long lashes. Three of her teeth were crooked, but she did not often smile with open lips. Her complexion was middling, and her lips protruded forward, but she carried herself as if she were a beauty, and that convinced many others that she was just that.

“I wonder that you do not acquire many more gowns, now that you have a dowry of four thousand pounds?” Jane asked.

Mildred looked sharply at her friend. She knew Jane spoke to irritate Hannah, but she would rather Jane did not trumpet the facts of her dowry.

Beside her, Mr. Winston raised a brow.

Jane ignored or did not notice the look from her friend. “How fortunate you are, Millie, that you have the Marquess of Alastair for a cousin. Why, you nearly have the connections of Miss Rose here, whom I understand has a great uncle who is an earl.”

Mildred suppressed a groan. As Hannah often flaunted her family’s connections, Jane knew full well whom the Rose family was related to.

Hannah’s eyes narrowed before conceding, “It does not compare to being related to a d’Aubigne.”

“By marriage only,” Mildred said. “My uncle was Lady Katherine’s second husband. The d’Aubigne blood does not run in my veins.”

“Even if the present Marquess of Alastair has a repute that would make any decent person blush and hesitate to boast his name,” Hannah finished with a hard stare and a tight-lipped smile directed at Jane.

Jane frowned and visibly struggled for a retort.

“Shall we take to the dance floor?” Mildred asked Mr. Winston.

“Yes,” he replied eagerly, perhaps as relieved as she to be departing

Miss Rose appeared startled, but she did not want for a partner and was soon besieged by men asking her to dance. As others followed onto the dance floor, Mildred took her position facing Mr. Winston.

“I beg your pardon,” he said.

She gave him a puzzled look.

“It appears you do not look forward to this dance, and I fear I had cajoled you into this earlier.”

“No, no, I am fine. I was merely thinking of...less pleasant thoughts. My mind was not on dancing.”

He returned a sympathetic smile. “I rather wish I were back in the music room, too.”

His statement made her chuckle.

“I should consider myself fortunate to have ensnared the first dance,” he went on to say as the music began.

“You are,” she said in jest, “for, as I’ve said, I prefer to watch.”

“I was referring to your many suitors.”

“Oh. You mistake the men. They are not my suitors.”

They took their turn in the first figure.

“No? Then it is commonplace for men to quarrel over a dance with you?”

“They are more interested in my dowry than in dancing with me.”

“For a young lady with an impressive dowry, you behave with surprising modesty.”

“All ladies of sizable dowries must be overbearing?”

“I suppose I have that prejudice. As you are a d’Aubigne, I admit to having fully expected pretension and condescension.”

They awaited the other couple before resuming their discourse.

“I am not a d’Aubigne. My uncle married the aunt of the present Marquess of Alastair.”

“That would make the Marquess your cousin.”

“By marriage. We are not blood relatives, and our situations in society are quite different. You know the d’Aubigne family?”

“I was at Oxford with Andre d’Aubigne. He was two years my senior, and I do not think he took any notice of me, but I admired him from afar. He was quite the batsman at cricket. Do you see much of the Marquess?”

“No. There are not many occasions for us to meet.”

It was a true statement for the most part. Their time at the Château Follet had been an anomaly.

“There are few occasions and little company that merit his tolerance, but, forgive me, I should not speak ill of your cousin. He was that way at Oxford, and he must be a different man now that he is a marquess.”

“It would seem not.” She nearly added that Alastair tolerated gaming hells better than he tolerated his family.

They moved on to other subjects after that. Mr. Winston danced with sufficient grace despite his prior assertions to the contrary, and when he held her hand, she found his hold warm and comfortable. She was rather sorry to see the dance come to an end.

“I was right,” Mr. Winston declared as he led her off the floor. “You are a much better dancer than you give yourself credit for.”

“And you as well.”

“Not only did we not make fools of ourselves, I think we presented a decent pair.”

She smiled and would have accepted a second dance with him if he had asked, but he had not the chance. She was not surprised. A handsome and charming man, his attention was quickly engaged by many others, including Miss Rose. But Millie fancied he glanced her way every now and then. The pleasantness of their exchange lasted the remainder of the evening, and even accepting dances with Mr. Carleton and Mr. Porter was not as insufferable as she would have thought.