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“Are you watching Miss Whitford? I see she’s positively destroying poor Worth’s feet. I’ve never seen her dance like that before.”

“Yes, the woman in the blue dress. That’s Miss Whitford?” Thomas pretended he didn’t know her.

“She’s to be my sister-in-law. Her sister is Lady Gresham, who is marrying Harry.”

“I see.” Thomas bit his lip as he saw Beatrix completely run into Worth. That had to have been painful for both of them. This couldn’t go on—she couldn’t keep hurting herself in an effort to dissuade him. “Perhaps it’s her partner.”

“I’ve never known Worth to be a bad dancer. In fact, he’s quite celebrated for the opposite. It’s why the patronesses at Almack’s love him so much.” North made a distasteful sound in his throat. “I’m so grateful that isn’t me.”

“I haven’t danced in ages,” Thomas said.

“Then maybe you should.” North leaned toward him and whispered, “I won’t tell.”

Thomas looked over at him. “I appreciate that. I would prefer to keep my presence quiet.”

North pressed his lips together and inclined his head toward Thomas before taking himself off. Thomas watched the dance conclude and took a deep breath.

He’d come here to dance, and he wasn’t leaving without doing so.