Page 24 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

Anne froze and swore she could feel his dark presence behind her like a shadow. “Lady Mary,” Victor responded in his deep voice. He appeared at Anne’s side but continued talking to Mary. “I saw you flitting about like an erratic butterfly.”

Mary laughed. “It’s the first ball Mama has allowed me to attend. I wish to speak to everyone !” Mary then looked at Anne, and there was something unsure in her eye. She wrung her fingers together. “Actually, Mama, I wanted to know something. If a gentleman asks me to dance, am I allowed to?”

Anne’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not!”

Mary pouted as her shoulders fell. “Why not?”

“You haven’t come out yet. You know you’re not allowed to dance with a gentleman yet at events like this one.”

Miss Stewart, remaining in the background, was biting her lip at this conversation. Her eyes went back and forth between Mary and Anne. “Actually, Lady Litchfield…” The governess stepped forward. “I should tell you that Lady Mary was already asked to dance by a gentleman.”

Outraged, Anne did her best to level the rising emotion. “Who would dare ask a young woman who has not yet come out to dance? That is highly improper!”

Mary rushed her palms over her skirt and mumbled, “Freddy’s friend’s brother.”

Anne felt a jolt of sick in her stomach as the thirty-two-year-old Mr. Felton Ashby came to mind.

Though it wasn’t unheard of for a young woman to have a much older husband—sometimes twice their age, if not more—Anne had been quite cautious when it came to men since her own experience.

And in her opinion, a thirty-two-year-old had no business showing interest in a seventeen-year-old.

But even the worst scoundrel wouldn’t ask both a mother and her daughter to dance the same night.

She was worrying far too much. “Which brother?”

“Mr. Lucas Ashby.”

Relief flooded Anne. She let out a breath. “And how old is he?”

“I don’t know, twenty, perhaps?” Mary looked at Miss Stewart, who nodded in agreement.

Anne’s shoulders loosened. Though Mr. Lucas Ashby should still have known better. And likely did. “He is simply going to have to wait one more year to ask you, Mary.”

“But, Mama!” Mary whined.

“No but s, dear.” Anne made sure to hold her daughter’s gaze. “You simply cannot dance this summer, with anyone, and both of you are well aware of this.”

Mary let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mama.”

“Now, don’t make me regret allowing you to attend your aunt and uncle’s ball tonight.”

Mary’s head dropped. “No, Mama.”

“Good.” Anne squeezed her daughter’s arm. “Go find Lady Cecile again and giggle about dresses some more.”

Mary and Miss Stewart gave departing curtsies and disappeared into the crowd.

Anne turned to Victor, who generally remained quiet when she had difficult discussions with her children in his presence. “Did I handle that well, do you think?” Anne wasn’t sure. This wasn’t a large ball. Rules about propriety were rather set in stone, but still, she felt badly.

Victor was staring down at her with his usual intensity. “I believe so, yes.”

“I hate to be a spoilsport, she was looking forward so much to tonight. But it’s a bit odd for him to be asking her to dance, don’t you think? I’m surprised she even entertained the idea enough to complain when I said no .”

Victor slowly nodded, taking a moment to consider something. “I’m not as familiar with those types of rules as you are, but I didn’t get a good feeling from it.”

“Nor I.” Anne could feel the worry settling on her brow.

In truth, it put her on alert. But she couldn’t figure out why.

Mr. Lucas Ashby was young, and maybe he’d been swept up in the atmosphere and taken a chance on asking her.

Or, possibly, he’d made an incorrect assumption with her presence here.

Mamas generally knew which young ladies were out, but it wouldn’t surprise Anne if the sons were ignorant to it.

“In fact, if I may speak freely…” Victor trailed off but seemed to hesitate.

Anne tilted her head. “Of course you may speak freely, Victor.”

“Forgive me, but something about it seems especially odd. I would go so far as to say concerning .”

“I was thinking the exact same.” Anne looked around the room. “I think I shall keep an eye on that Mr. Lucas Ashby.”

Victor knit his hands behind his back. “That’s a good idea. I might do so as well.”

She looked up at him, a bit surprised by this. “Thank you.”

He replied with a tight-lipped nod. Anne expected him to end this conversation and disappear into the crowd, but she was quite pleased when he stayed with her.

“Dantes and Ollie have spent the last hour introducing me to people.”

“Oh? How did that go?”

He shrugged. “Well enough. I’m not one for idle chitchat, so it was a bit torturous in that way. But these are people I will have to get to know at some point.”

“Did you like any of them?”

Victor was quiet for a long moment before a hint of humor glimmered in his eyes. “In truth, no.”

Anne laughed. “It’s a formal occasion. Once you get to know people better over time, I’m sure you’ll discover friendships are born.”

“Perhaps.”

At this moment, Anne decided to tell Victor about Mr. Felton Ashby.

And why she did, she couldn’t say. It didn’t seem to be something of Victor’s business, or something he would even care about.

But it also felt strange not telling him, like breaking some sort of rule.

“Mr. Felton Ashby has asked me to dance tonight.”

Victor’s full attention went down to her and a dark intensity began to build around him like a shadow. As her dearest friend, she knew well enough what that was—he was angry. But why would he care so intensely about this? “Why does he want to do that?”

Anne resisted the urge to stammer. Was it shock from his change in mood? Or perhaps she was offended by the question? “I don’t know. It’s merely one dance, Victor. Are you saying no one should want to dance with me?”

Victor’s eyebrows pulled together. “No.”

“He’s only a few years younger than I, and his youngest brother is dear friends with Freddy. I think it would be strange for him not to ask, don’t you?”

“No,” he replied darkly.

Anne blinked. “Are you upset?”

Upon this question, something within Victor shifted, as if he’d rearranged something inside of him.

There was a funny look on his face and then the intensity, the dark cloud, disappeared all at once until he exuded an air of vague boredom.

“No. I’m not upset.” He paused. “However, I do regret not asking you first.”

Anne blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry. If you want, I can reserve a dance for you. I didn’t know you would want to—”

“No matter.” He searched her face for a brief moment. “I’m not prepared to be on a dance floor, anyway.” And then he suddenly bowed low before rising back up to his full, rigid height. “Enjoy your evening, Anne.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving Anne blinking rapidly after him. A dreadful feeling squeezed her stomach, as if she had done something wrong, even though she knew she hadn’t.