“Oh come on, just one dance—whoa!” Richard’s eyes widened, but his surprise was quickly followed by a goofy smirk. He looked like a little boy who was pleased that his prank had succeeded. “Well, well, well, we’ve become awfully chummy now, haven’t we?”
Giles exhaled sharply. “Fine. Just one dance.”
“Huzzah! Well, see you later,” Richard said and disappeared into the crowd.
Just then, an awed gasp rang from near the window. The hall erupted with music. The sun had just set completely, and thus, the curtain rose on the royal ball.
Several songs after the king and queen’s first dance, Fiona and Giles hit the dance floor. “You seem quite at home to me,” Giles told Fiona.
“You have Lady Miranda and Marchioness Heyward to thank for that,” Fiona replied. The decorations and paintings at the White Palace were, in a word, exquisite—but it was the ultra-high caliber of the guests that overwhelmed her most of all. The hall was a sea of powerful faces so famous that even a country bumpkin like Fiona recognized them. Luckily, the casual conversation with her friends had untangled her big ball of nerves.
“Well, those two women don’t know the meaning of the word nervous,” Giles muttered.
Fiona giggled. “It would seem so. They taught me a lot of valuable information about this ball too.”
Giles had told Fiona that she didn’t need to worry about socializing, but if someone approached him, he would have to respond in kind. After their dance, he was busy chatting with all sorts of guests, so Fiona stayed with Miranda and Marchioness Heyward. Miranda was on top of the world now that she was the proud owner of a Raymond original, and she was even more dutiful than usual in giving Fiona advice.
“What did you all talk about?” Giles asked when he returned, drawing her into another dance.
“Lady Miranda told me the Flower Room was best for desserts and the Blue Room had the best variety in cordials,” Fiona told him.
Giles chuckled. “That sounds like my sister.”
Miranda also informed Fiona of the beautifully furnished spare rooms on the other side of the palace that were designated for resting, along with all the other important features on the premises that a lady needed to know about. She even told Fiona which places to stay away from; some parts of the palace grounds were off limits to local ladies for their safety, since many guests from foreign lands were in attendance. There wasn’t any obvious signage that might mar the glamorous affair, and the guards that night were dressed in ordinary formal wear instead of their uniforms—so Fiona might risk inviting misunderstandings if she unknowingly approached these restricted areas.
While Fiona was grateful that Miranda had been kind enough to tell her all of this, Giles seemed to question whether the information was really important. “You’ll be safe if you never leave my side,” he argued.
“But I can’t exactly take you to the powder room with me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let you go unattended,” Giles replied, seeming uncomfortable, but Fiona knew that she needed to keep a respectful distance when more people inevitably approached Giles to chat. Besides, she had her own concerns to deal with. All of the other parties they had attended together had allowed the guests to leave when they pleased, but the royal ball permitted nobody to leave before the party was officially over. The ball was also a rather long affair, so the spare rooms had been staffed with maids to fix ladies’ hair, makeup, and dresses. Fiona was relieved to have this resource on hand, but men were not permitted entry into the powder rooms.
She explained all of this to Giles, who fell silent, seemingly perplexed and upset that he had not considered this. “Don’t worry, Lord Gil,” Fiona said, “I have a good sense of direction.”
“But you might swoon over a painting and never come back.”
“Oh, I would…never do that.”
“Be honest,” Giles said, smirking when he saw that Fiona could not entirely deny it. He stopped disparaging her and twirled her to the music.
Dancing like this was another thing that had become routine to Fiona. She had fun even with a simple waltz without any complicated steps or popular arrangements. She had no need to put on a show because her body moved happily all on its own.
Once again, they drew stares from around the room, this time owing to the intimate way they danced together. The Earl of Bancroft’s son—the man who had once shunned every single woman who approached him—now made regular appearances at social functions with a partner, and his partner was the same woman every time. It was only ever her. And if anyone didn’t believe the rumors, well, they would only need to look at the couple’s romantic behavior that night at the royal ball to see their courtship for themselves.
“I suppose we’re drawing attention, aren’t we?” Fiona lamented.
“Does it bother you?” Giles asked. She returned his worried gaze with a cynical smirk.
“I’m all right. I can’t quite get used to it, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.”
If only I could stop being bothered by it at all… Being nothing special in neither pedigree nor appearance, Fiona had nowhere near as much experience in the spotlight as someone like Giles. She’d been the target of exponentially more stares in the months since taking on the role of his lover than she had in her entire life up to that point. Well, I knew exactly what was in store when I agreed to the charade.
For all his pushiness, Giles always put Fiona’s needs first. He had been vigilant about repelling anyone who wanted to exploit her or do her harm. He treated her so well. How could she not be pleased?
The problem was that it felt unfair that she was constantly under his protection. Even now, some ladies criticized Fiona as “dreadfully common and inferior,” but those ladies looked more resigned to Fiona’s presence in Giles’s life with each passing day. The appraising looks of those with higher social status had also tapered off steeply since her stay at the Heyward mansion. But she’d achieved none of these victories on her own.
Fiona had only attained her current standing because she had Giles backing her and because she was protected by the Bancroft earldom and the Heyward march. She was attracting admiring gazes from gentlemen—a far cry from the early parties in which she’d endured jeers from the young ladies in attendance—but those gentlemen were likely only looking at her because she’d had a friendly chat with Lord Talbott earlier. Giles found their behavior far more bothersome than Fiona, and he held her protectively as they danced, as if his body were a shield that could ward off the insolent stares.
At the end of the day, there wasn’t much Fiona could do. On some level, she wished that Giles would exploit her. What can I do for him in return? Besides act like his devoted lover…
She squeezed his hand and pulled him closer. Giles met her gaze, surprised, and she smiled and lowered her voice. “Didn’t you say we should put on a show that will buy us time until the next season, Lord Gil?”
“Well, I… Yes, I did.”
“Well, rest assured, I’m not as weak as I look.”
Giles surprised her then by looking away. He tightened his arm around her back, pulling her even closer.
“Lord Gil?” Fiona asked.
He hesitated. “I just don’t want anyone else laying his filthy eyes on you tonight,” he whispered, but his words were drowned out by the orchestra. Fiona asked him to repeat himself, but he insisted that it wasn’t important.
They moved seamlessly into their second consecutive dance together—or would have, if a booming voice hadn’t interrupted them. “Giles,” the voice said.
Fiona turned around, expecting to see Richard, but there stood the Earl and Countess of Bancroft.
Giles’s parents!
Flustered, she curtsied to them. She had seen Giles’s father just once before, a distant glimpse of the man when she was on the way home from the opera, but she had never met him face-to-face. He outranked her in the peerage, so it was unsuitable for Fiona to initiate a visit. And since she and Giles were not genuine lovers, Giles had told Fiona that there was no need for her to meet his parents—to which she had happily agreed.
Now, she looked up from her curtsy and met the gaze of the woman standing next to the earl. She had never seen the Countess of Bancroft before.
What a beautiful lady.
Lustrous, honey-brown hair and an understated elegance gave her a delicate, chaste femininity befitting of a countess. Her outfit was not elaborate, but it was obvious at a glance that she wore only the finest attire and jewelry. Her style reminded Fiona a little of Miranda. When their eyes met, the countess’s eyes softened into a smile. The quiet fondness of her gaze made her look as though she were gazing not at Fiona but into a distant memory.
“We’re switching partners,” Giles’s father announced. “Your poor mother hardly ever sees you.” With that, he gave his wife’s hand to Giles and yanked Fiona over to himself.
“Father?” Giles asked.
“The music’s starting.” The earl dragged Fiona away without giving her a chance to protest.
Fiona followed awkwardly. The orchestra transitioned into its next melody, and she listened to the music, stepping in time to it. The earl’s lead was skillful, and Fiona had no difficulty dancing with him. It was a while into the dance when the earl spoke again.