Algernon’s stoic featuresalmostlifted up into a smile.
“I see you still look like a cake,” he remarked.
Beatrice could not help it. Whether it was the champagne lemonade or because she liked his teasing, she laughed.
“The others seem to like it,” she retorted, sweeping her eyes around the crowd. Though as she did so, she noticed that some that had smiles for her earlier were looking at her peculiarly. Some ladies had even drawn their fans to their faces, revealing only their inquisitive, narrowed eyes as they spoke in hushed whispers.
“Or perhaps not,” she murmured, feeling her insecurities take over.
Then suddenly Algernon was there, stepping so close to her that all she could see was him.
“Do not focus on them,” Algernon demanded. “Focus on your own happiness. Did you enjoy the dance?”
Beatrice fought the urge to lean around him, her curiosity piqued as to how or if the whispers about her had turned.
“Um, yes,” she answered, distracted.
Algernon held out his hand.
“Then allow me to lead you into another,” he invited.
She looked up at him, shocked.
“You? Dance?”
Algernon let out a low chuckle.
“Not in a long time, but I still remember the steps,” he murmured.
“Ah, here you are again, trying to steal my Lady in Bloom,” Henry said loudly, shouldering into Algernon.
Beatrice’s eyes widened at his words, and as she glanced at the two brothers, she found Algernon looked none too pleased at Henry’s loudness.
“A bit in your cups are you, brother?” Algernon mused.
“I might have had two or three more while talking with my friend,” Henry replied, giving him a clumsy smile.
“Speaking of,” Henry went on before either Beatrice or Algernon could respond, “said friend has asked me to speak with him about some business.”
Disappointment began to slide down to Beatrice’s stomach. Henry had promised that he would not leave her. That was one of the conditions of her agreeing to go.
“It could take a while. Would you be so kind as to keep my Lady in Bloom company?” he further asked.
Confusion joined Beatrice’s disappointment. Henry had been almost furious with Algernon’s presence at the beginning of the evening, yet now, he was depending on his brother to keep her company? What was going on?
She turned around, looking slowly across the faces surrounding her, and found even more narrowed gazes than before. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and before she could even take a breath, she was spun around to face Henry and Algernon again. Only now, Henry was not there. Gone as if he had never been with them in the first place.
“Come, Beatrice,” Algernon invited, his deep voice laced with a slight urgency. “Time to enjoy another dance.”
“What is happening?” Beatrice asked as Algernon led her to the dance floor.
“I assure you, I do not know what you mean,” Algernon replied as a new, slower song began to rise from the orchestra.
A waltz, she believed. A dance far more intimate than the one she had shared with Henry, but still, one she had been taught the steps to it. For the next few moments, Beatrice focused on ignoring the tingles that erupted over her and putting effort into taking the proper steps.
With Algernon leading her, though, she found it very easy, and soon, despite her rising anxiety, she felt herself beginning to enjoy the dance.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Algernon asked.