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baskets of flowers under the torchlight. A few women glanced at the new arrivals and then quickly turned away when they recognized Lucy. The men were more inclined to leer and Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
    George took Harriet on his arm and led them up the stairway. Lucy followed, but she noticed that while several people greeted the couple ahead of her, no one acknowledged her at all. She lifted her head a little higher. Truly, she didn’t care about any of them and couldn’t wait until Harriet and George wed so that she could return home. But Harriet’s scheme meant that she would need to spend some time with Aubrey just to show that it was all just a misunderstanding. She grimly set her lips. It was not a misunderstanding. She did hate Lovell. She must think of him as Lovell, not Aubrey. She would endure him with icy politeness and tolerate the next few weeks. Surely they did not need to spend much time together and once the wedding was over she would never need to see him again.
    The ballroom was crowded and overheated for this May evening despite the open doors at the back of the room. Couples whirled around the dance floor and others stood in chattering groups, staring around in an effort to see and to be seen. The poor wallflowers stood in scattered clumps, hemmed in by their anxious mamas while the chaperones and dowagers sat where they had the best vantage point. It was a typical London society event and Lucy wanted to flee from the prying eyes and overly-perfumed odors. She almost turned to leave, but Harriet glanced back over her shoulder to check on her, smiling although her eyes betrayed her worry.
    Harriet's presence soothed Lucy although she did not seem as sure of her plan as she had earlier. She took a deep breath and smiled back, following them through the crowds. 
    George led them over to where his friend, the Earl of Thornton was surveying the crowds. Thornton was a reserved man but not unapproachable and Lucilla liked the little she knew of him, despite him being one of Aubrey’s, rather Lovell’s friends. He was dreadfully handsome and all the young ladies swooned over him while their mamas swooned over his title and wealth. He, however, was indifferent to swooning and generally did not attend events where he might be waylaid. Like Lucy he was only here because of his friend’s upcoming nuptials.
    Thornton did not leer or give her the cut, but he did eye her with curiosity as George greeted him. Harriet gave her a nudge and Lucy remembered that he was also a part of the ploy to rehabilitate her. Harriet had made George enlist all his friends in the effort. Lucy sighed, foreseeing a long evening ahead. At least, Lovell did not appear to have arrived yet.
    Thornton nodded his head acknowledging the ladies. “Good evening, Lady Harriet, Lady Lucilla. Quite the crush tonight. Lady Roth must delight in the fact that so many have managed to attend her ball.” Lucy curtseyed and nodded, but did not bother to reply, leaving that courtesy to Harriet. She turned and surveyed the ball room, trying to appear aloof and imperious to the stares. The thought of seeing Aubrey again overwhelmed her. Perhaps he would not come despite George’s appeal. He could be no more anxious to see her again than she was to meet him.
    When George and Harriet excused themselves to dance she was left alone with Thornton. “Would you like to dance?” he asked politely, holding out his hand to take hers. Lucy nodded her assent and he led her out for a set of country dances. He was a graceful dancer and Lucy was out of practice, so she concentrated on her footsteps, thankful that the dance did not allow for much conversation.
    She was breathless and rosy from the warmth of the room and exertion of the dance when the set finished. Lovell gave her a brief smile, but did not attempt to talk with her as he led her back to where Harriet and George waited.
    “Thank you, my lord, for the dance. I fear I am a trifle out of