“Are you all right?” James came up to her. “He wasn’t rude to you, was he?”
“No.” Alice was still a little bemused. “In fact, he apologized for my husband’s behavior.” She glanced at the door Edmund had disappeared through. “I think the only reason he came tonight was to dance with me in a demonstration of family solidarity.”
“Good. So he should.”
Another gentleman, the husband of one of Lady Peplowe’s friends, appeared and asked Alice for the next dance. Then she danced with Gerald, then Lord Peplowe, who apologized for being out of practice.
Alice danced every dance. The whispers and spiteful looks continued, but they’d lessened, and the kindness she was receiving, much of it from people she barely knew, outweighed the nastiness. It was wonderful, touching and a bit overwhelming.
The next dance was the waltz before supper, and Alice was engaged to dance it with James.
The orchestra played a single loud chord, and she looked up and saw Sir Alan and Lady Reynolds standing on the orchestra dais. Sir Alan’s deep voice rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. A very important announcement is about to be made by one of our guests.”
“A very exciting announcement,” Lady Reynolds added with a smile. The crowd fell silent.
To Alice’s amazement, James stepped onto the platform and said, “I am delighted to share with you all the news that Alice, Lady Charlton, has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife. Please join us in celebrating.” He held out his hand to Alice.
There was a short, surprised silence, then people began murmuring.
“Go on, up you go.” Lady Peplowe gave Alice a little push, and Alice started walking, dazed and a little confused. He’d made no mention of this. He hadn’t even asked her to marry him. Not since . . .
As she crossed the floor alone, running the gauntlet of the crowd for the second time, someone started clapping, and in seconds everyone was clapping and calling congratulations.
James stepped down from the dais and took her hand just as the orchestra began the waltz. “What . . . I . . .” she began.
“I can’t kiss you in front of all these people,” he said, “but I can dance with you.” And he swept her out onto the floor. They circled the floor once, the only couple dancing, then Lady Jersey and a partner joined them, followed by Lord and Lady Peplowe, Gerald and Lucy, Princess Esterhazy and the ambassador, and their hosts, Sir Alan and Lady Reynolds. One by one, other couples joined them, and soon the dance floor was crowded with waltzing couples, many of whom expressed their congratulations to Alice and James as they twirled past.
Alice danced blind, blinking back tears.
“Good tears, I hope,” James murmured. She gave him a misty smile.
By the time they went in to supper, the atmosphere at the ball had changed. It had been impressed upon the spiteful ones who had been enjoying Alice’s misfortune—for as Lady Peplowe had said to Alice, there would always be people who took pleasure in the misery of others, whether they knew them or not—that it would now be in very bad taste to refer to the things revealed in the little red book. Not only did Alice, Lady Charlton, have the support of some of the ton’s most influential ladies; she was newly betrothed and it must therefore be treated as an occasion for celebration.
Supper, and indeed the rest of the night, passed in a blur for Alice. There wasn’t a moment that she could talk to James alone and ask him about his surprise—his astounding announcement of their betrothal.
Had he had a change of heart about marrying his mistress, or was it simply another public gesture of support? He was, after all, that sort of man: protective, gallant, kind. But oh, the hope building inside her was an ache of yearning.
By the time the ball was winding down and people were starting to leave, Alice was exhausted, but in a good way. She’d come half expecting to be excoriated by society, but instead she’d found friends she hadn’t realized she had.
And James had announced their betrothal.
As they prepared for the carriage to arrive—guests’ carriages were lined up along the street—Lucy said something to a footman, who produced a covered basket along with their other possessions from the cloakroom.
“A basket, Lucy?” Alice asked. “You didn’t bring that with you.” What would she want with a basket? Alice had several she could have lent her.
Lucy grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I know. Lady Reynolds lent it to me.” She handed the basket to Gerald. The carriage arrived and they climbed in.
“It’s quite heavy,” Gerald said, grinning. “What’s the total?”
Lucy bounced on her seat. “Sixteen!”
“What are you two talking about?” James asked.
“While you two were dancing and chatting and getting betrothed—congratulations again, by the way, it’s wonderful news and I’m so excited for you”—Lucy leaned across and kissed Alice on the cheek—“we were busy.”
“Busy doing what?”
In answer, Gerald passed the basket to James. “Look inside.”
James lifted the cover and made a surprised exclamation. He pulled out a little red-leather-bound book. “There are sixteen copies in here? How on earth did you manage that?”
“It was Lucy’s idea,” Gerald said.
“I just—well, we, because Gerald was very good—spoke to all the young people we knew. Most of them had heard about the letters, and some had sneaked a look at them and thought they were horridly mean, so we asked them if they could get hold of their mothers’—”
“—or aunts’ or grandmothers’—” Gerald interjected.
“—copies of the book.” Lucy grinned triumphantly. “And sixteen people—”
“—that we know of—”
“—had brought the book with them to the ball.”
“Seventeen,” Alice said, pulling Mrs. Scorrier’s copy out of her reticule and tossing it into the basket.
“Seventeen copies,” James said. “With the one we already had from Gerald’s mother, that means we only need to track down the last seven copies, and that’ll be the end of that vile little book.”
The carriage arrived at Alice’s house, and James handed both the ladies down. He glanced at Lucy, then said to Alice in a low voice, “I’ll call on you tomorrow morning, and we can talk then.”
Thus ensuring she would get no sleep at all. As he turned to climb back into the carriage, Alice’s hand shot out to grab him. “I would rather we talked now.”