Page 88 of Justice Delayed

“Speaking of long absences, we’re nearly late,” Diana said, hurriedly changing the subject.

Selina did not push, considering they were indeed late.

They walked quickly to the ballroom, waiting till they were announced before stepping inside with slow, graceful steps to allow the guests to observe them.

Selina remembered to keep her back straight, allowing her eyes to sweep over the room with subtle interest. The small smile on her face painted her as approachable but not desperate, even though her heart pounded as she tried to interpret the expressions on the guests’ faces.

The guests watched them descend the stairs with wide eyes, and there were a few open mouths. She could only hope she wasn’t grossly overdressed for the occasion, or it would be even more of a scandal than being underdressed.

She allowed her self one last survey of the room secretly hoping she would spot the Duke’s dark head in the crowd, but there was nothing to be seen. A frown crossed her face, but briefly. It wouldn’t do to elicit whispers now.

She got to the bottom of the stairs and hoped her descent had caused a gentleman or two to take interest enough to assist her down, as that would show that her entrance had made a good mark.

Her fears were assuaged when a few gentlemen approached her before she even reached the bottom step, extending a hand towards her. She tried not to let her nervousness show and accepted the hand of the gentleman closest to her. Lord Westbrook, if she remembered correctly. She smiled at him and curtsied to thank him.

He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her gloved hand, but there was no spark of desire or interest, even though he was handsome in a boyish way, unlike the Duke’s more refined, mature look.

Stop it.

The night was supposed to be about her having fun and mingling with suitors, not comparing them to the Duke. The fact that they couldn’t even compete on an equal plane would not helpher forget him quickly and focus on securing an advantageous match.

“Thank you, Lord Westbrook,” she said with a smile.

“You are most welcome, Lady Selina.” Lord Westbrook smiled, still holding her hand. “Might I add, you look especially beautiful tonight. You put even the flowers to shame.”

She feigned a blush as was expected, remembering to fan her face softly. She gave him a bold look over her fan and lowered her lashes. She saw his interest rise and smiled, knowing he had been caught in her trap.

The Duke had been right, after all. But the fact did not seem as pleasing as it had before.

“Might I interest you in a dance, Lady Selina?” Lord Bourne asked, bowing with an outstretched hand.

She gave him her dance card, and he wrote down his name. Lord Westbrook and Lord Dwight followed right after. She tried not to look at her nearly full dance card with surprise, as that would be the first time she had ever seen so many eager names on it, but she couldn’t feel the thrill she had expected to feel at being highly sought after.

She felt like an imposter, using skills the Duke had taught her and employing the fashion tactics on which he had educated her. None of this was a victory she had secured on her own.

Two earls and a viscount sought her attention, yet they held no appeal for her. There was a gnawing numbness in her chest that did not allow her the pleasure of considering her newfound popularity as anything other than a chore.

The weight of the guests’ eyes on her as she crossed the room and mingled made her feel uneasy.

Can they see through the act I am putting on?

She walked quickly towards the balcony, needing air as the weight of their gazes started to constrict her chest. She placed a hand on her throat as her heart started to beat rapidly from lack of air, hoping she did not faint and cause a scene.

“What being could have been so powerful as to put a frown on your face, Lady Selina?” a familiar voice asked, amused.

She turned to see that it was Peter who had walked up to her. He was holding two glasses of punch.

“Peter.” She smiled and curtsied. “It was the lack of your company that had me in a sour mood.”

He smiled brightly—her flirtatious words had hit their target.

She really wanted to feel something for this man before her, who happened to share her sense of humor.

“I am glad I was able to find you so quickly then.” He handed her a glass. “You should have this.”

“I do not feel parched,” she said stubbornly, but she accepted it nonetheless.

“You will soon.” He smiled and picked up her dance card, which dangled from her wrist, allowing his hands to brush against hers. “I intend to dance with you until then.”