Page 11 of Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady
They moved through the throng of people, weaving a path towards the ballroom at the far end of the main hall. A few sections of the corridor had bottlenecked with conversing revelers. Indeed, the heat within the building had become rather overwhelming. By the time they reached their destination, Adelaide could feel a trickle of perspiration meandering down the back of her neck. Her lungs felt too tight, although she had a feeling her nerves were responsible for her shortness of breath.
It was cooler here in the ballroom, however, despite the exertions of the dancers. Adelaide soon forgot any troubling thoughts as she took a seat on the outer edge of the dancefloor. The orchestra played a jaunty tune that she liked very much. The livelier dances were always her favorite.
“You do not mind my being here, do you?” Leah whispered suddenly. Lady Francesca and her mother had taken up seats a fair distance away, far enough to be out of earshot.
Adelaide frowned. “No, certainly not. Why should I?”
“You have not done this to embarrass me, after what I said to you yesterday?”
“I would never do such a thing,” Adelaide replied defensively.
“Did you know of Countess Gaumont’s feelings towards me?”
“How could I have known?” Adelaide muttered. “The Countess does not know you, so how could I have anticipated her response?”
Leah narrowed her eyes. “You know her, do you not?”
“Yes, but—”
“So you must have known what she might say,” Leah accused. “You wished to mortify me, I am certain of it.”
“I did not, Leah,” Adelaide insisted. “I invited you to attend with us because I thought you might enjoy the distraction. You often seem to enjoy the Assembly Rooms. I did not think I was doing you a disservice in inviting you along.”
“I am humiliated.”
“Why should you be? The Countess has not repeated her words to anyone here. Your reputation is unharmed.” Adelaide paused for a moment. “Is something else troubling you, dear Leah?”
She looked taken aback. “No… of course not. What else would be troubling me?”
“A certain Jasper?”
“A ridiculous notion.”
Adelaide arched a knowing eyebrow. “Has something occurred? You do not seem to be yourself, Leah.”
“You will only repeat what I say to Jasper.”
“I will not. You may be assured of my utmost discretion.”
Leah did not seem to know what to think. “Very well.” She took a shaky breath. “Were I to feel any sort of affection towards Jasper, which I am neither confirming nor denying… it has come to my attention that I may be unsuitable for him. The Countess has only solidified my fears, by speaking so harshly to me this evening.”
“Jasper does not care for such things,” Adelaide assured. “He finds the constraints on our society to be a foolish dogma, especially where marriage is concerned. He does not abide by it, nor does he give it much credence. He told me as much today, when he learned of my engagement—he suggested I dispense with the propriety of my agreement and choose another man.”
Leah’s expression turned cold. “You spoke with him today?”
“He sought me out,” Adelaide replied. “I believe he wished to dissuade me from marrying the Duke of Bradford. Naturally, I told him I could not, and would not.”
“You spoke alone?”
“He is an old friend, Leah. We often speak alone. He had my father’s permission, if that is what concerns you?”
“That is not what concerns me, Lady Adelaide,” Leah retorted, her voice dripping venom. “I thought we had discussed this yesterday? Did we not reach an agreement that you would cease this unnatural acquaintance?”
“No, we did not.” Adelaide held her ground.
“You would seek to ruin any chance I may have with Jasper.”
Adelaide stared at Leah, aghast. “I would do no such thing. He and I are naught but friends. We have been so since we were children. My affections towards him have never leant towards the romantic, and they never shall.”
