Millie shared a look with Prue that said she didn’t believe it for a minute. Neither did Prue.
But it would be entertaining to see the ladies’ gowns and discuss the merits of the latest fashions as well as admire the gentlemen who passed by on their way to ask someone else to dance.
This Season, Prue didn’t have the breathless anticipation of a debutante. She knew how unlikely it was that anything exceptional would occur.
They alighted and waited in the receiving line to greet their hosts then entered the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers glowed, reflecting in the numerous mirrors. The bright colors and soft pastels of the ladies’ attire were in stark contrast to the formal black suits of the men.
Prue refused to allow herself to search for Lord Winstead but caught herself doing just that numerous times.
Their mothers paused to speak with friends, some of whom she’d already met.
“There’s Phoebe,” Millie whispered as she looped her arm through Prue’s with a wave at her mother to let her know where they were going.
They approached an attractive lady with dark hair and warm brown eyes that lit up at the sight of Millie.
“Millicent, I’m so pleased you’re here.” The two ladies hugged.
“Phoebe, may I present my cousin, Lady Prudence Davies. Prue, this is Phoebe Stanhope, the Countess of Bolton, a dear friend and the founder of our literary league.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Prue curtsied. “I’ve heard amazing things about you and the league.”
“We are so blessed to have found one another.”
Prue would hazard a guess that the lady was expecting a child and not just because of her full figure. She glowed with good health and happiness.
A handsome gentleman joined them, his adoring look at Lady Bolton making his identity clear. Millie confirmed it when she introduced him as the Earl of Bolton.
The lord’s attentiveness to his wife sent a pang of longing through Prue. What might it be like to be so adored?
She met several other members of the league, two of whom were betrothed. It was interesting to watch the couples interact and how close they all were. Millie was lucky to be a part of it, even if she was one of the few single ladies.
“I knew you’d like them,” Millie whispered a short while later.
“You were right.” Phoebe had invited her to be a guest at the next league meeting since Prue would still be in town, and she readily agreed.
The group eased apart as two of the couples went to dance and others moved away to speak with friends.
“This is the part of the ball that I do not care for,” Millie murmured as she looked around the ballroom.
“What part is that?” Prue asked.
“When we wonder whether we’ll be asked to dance or if we will merely be part of the décor the remainder of the evening.”
Prue lifted her chin. “We will not allow our enjoyment of the ball to be dependent on whether a gentleman notices us. Not when we have one another.” She only hoped she didn’t come upon the rogue who’d caused her such distress three years ago.
Millie smiled. “You are right.”
Before they could say another word, they were both introduced by Millie’s mother to two gentlemen, who then asked them to dance. When it happened a second time, Prue had difficulty hiding her astonishment, for it exceeded her expectations. She tried not to allow it to bother her that the two who had asked her appeared to be rather jaded rogues.
Before she had time to consult Millie as to whether she agreed, yet another gentleman requested an introduction and a dance.
This one, Lord Ulstead, made little effort to hide that he’d rather be doing anything but dancing with her. The smell of spirits on his breath added to the unpleasant experience. He didn’t attempt much conversation, which was a relief since she already knew she didn’t care for him.
Another dancer brushed against Prue and murmured an apology. Prue studied her and some of the others nearby and realized several of the more reserved ladies were on the dance floor.
How strange. Then she caught a glare from one of the obvious beauties who watched from the edge of the dancing. It almost seemed as if she, too, thought something was amiss, though Prue couldn’t imagine what it might be.
Unease prickled along her spine as she thanked Lord Ulstead when he returned her to her mother’s side.