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could not keep doing this.
    “I felt like a fool. It was dreadful. I have been devastated and embarrassed all day, and I wouldn’t have come tonight except for the fact that I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing I was crying in my room like a child. I was determined to come and hold my head high and ignore him, hoping only that he might think he was mistaken about his suspicions, and I in fact have no interest in him whatsoever. Otherwise, I will never be able to face him again without feeling completely humiliated.”
    “At least now you know,” Sophia said gently. “I’m sorry, Lily. I’m sorry I encouraged you. I should have minded my own business.”
    Lily shook her head. “It’s not your fault. In fact, I should thank you. You’re right. At least now I know, and I can get over him once and for all.”
    Sophia glanced over her shoulder at Whitby. “I was so sure the two of you were meant to be together. I can’t explain it, except to say that you have similar souls. I still feel it. I just wish he could see it.”
    “I don’t feel it,” Lily said. “Not after today.”
    Just then, Lady Stanton walked to the far end of the room where they had cleared the floor and set up a small stage with an amber curtain as a backdrop.
    “Attention, attention, everyone!” she said. “We are about to begin. Sir Hatley and I are going to perform the death scene from Romeo and Juliet.”
    Lily sighed. “Wonderful. They couldn’t have chosen a comedy tonight?”
    Sophia squeezed her hand.
    The two began the performance, which turned out to be a comedy after all. They exaggerated the lovers’ deaths, groaning with their tongues hanging out, while the guests cheered and whistled, finally rising to their feet, clapping and shouting “Bravo!” when Juliet gasped her last farcical, wheezing breath.
    Lily forced herself to smile and clap, too, though inside she was still fighting tears.
    When the applause died down and everyone was congratulating the actors, who were laughing hysterically, Lily stood and excused herself.
    “You’re sure you’re all right, Lily?” Sophia asked, whispering.
    “Yes. I’m fine.” She just needed to be alone. She turned and left the room.
    A short time later, she met Lord Richard in the long, carpeted gallery. He stepped out from behind a bust, startling her.
    “I was hoping you weren’t gone for the night,” he said, glancing down at the neckline of her cream-colored, French silk gown. “I wanted to talk to you.”
    “About what?” she asked, looking around the gallery to see if there was anyone else present. There was not. They were alone.
    He gave her a sidelong glance, as if to tell her she should know. When she said nothing, he shook his head at her. “Surely you’re aware of the fact that we are being paired up this week.”
    Lily was feeling increasingly uneasy. “I suppose.”
    “I wasn’t keen on coming to this party at first, because I knew the kinds of girls my father had selected for me in the past, and quite frankly, they’ve all been about as pretty as piglets.”
    Lily was disappointed. She had truly wanted to like Lord Richard. Life would have been so easy if she could have. But that comment did nothing to recommend him. In fact, she was liking him less and less with every word he spoke.
    “But you,” he said, lifting an eyebrow, “are no piglet. I almost think my father was disappointed when he saw you. Disappointed that his undeserving son was going to get such a prize for a wife.”
    Lily stepped back. “I have not consented to become your wife, Lord Richard.”
    He followed her with a forward step of his own. “Not yet. But I suspect you will.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    “Because you’ve had no other offers. Probably because of the whispers about you.”
    “What whispers?” she asked, caught off guard.
    “The rumors. Some people seem to think you might be used goods. Though no one knows for sure. But I have to wonder why you’ve