It must be rather annoying, Annabel thought, to have nowhere to direct all that emotion except toward unwary gentlemen who do nothing more despicable than ask for a dance. In all, she had the magnificent rage of a young Helen of Troy, stolen by the Greeks and taken from her homeland. Her eyes sparkled with the displeasure of receiving too much attention. She looked magnificent, a few gleaming black curls falling to her shoulders, and the rest piled high on her head. He should look lower…perhaps in the scullery.” As if I would even contemplate dancing with that plump toadlet. “Lord Beekman has twice asked me to dance with him. “This ball is nothing more than a breeding ground for parasites,” Imogen said, scowling at her reflection.
Her sister Imogen, Lady Maitland, plumped down beside her. So she sat down before the large mirrored dressing table, and started trying to pin her unruly curls so they would stay above her shoulders for the rest of the evening. Annabel peeked into the retiring room and found it empty. And, naturally, both of these decisions took place in the ladies’ retiring room, which is where everything of importance takes place at a ball.It was in those middle hours, when the initial excitement has worn away and women have an uneasy feeling that their noses are shiny and their lips pale.
In neither case had the Scotsman indicated a particular interest in undertaking such intimate activities with an Essex sister, but his participation was taken for granted. The day the Scotsman came to Lady Feddrington’s ball, Annabel’s sister decided to give him her virtue, and Annabel decided not to give him her hand in marriage.
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