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peace.

    The three of them were causing a noticeable stir among those who were not dancing.

    He looked about until his eyes found Margaret, and then he smiled.
    She might have pretended that she had not seen him, she supposed, but that would be silly. She smiled in return and was very glad she was looking her best as she danced beneath one of the chandeliers and her gold gown sparkled. And then she felt annoyance at such a vain thought.

    I will give you my company whenever I have the time…

    There was still no sign of the marquess. He might not even be inLondon , of course. And even if he were, and even if he came later this evening…

    “Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, returning her attention to Jasper with a start as she trod heavily on his shoe. “I am so sorry. Do forgive me.”

    She had stumbled awkwardly too, and he had to grasp her arm until she had righted herself and picked up the steps of the dance again. It was very humiliating. A few of the dancers around them looked at her with concern.

    “My fault entirely,” Jasper assured her. “I only hope Katherine did not notice that I almost toppled her sister. But if you need someone to plant him a facer or worse, Meg, do feel free to call upon me at any time. It would give me the greatest pleasure. I have not been embroiled in any good brawls lately. Marriage does that to a man, alas.”

    Margaret looked at him, startled. And it was no use pretending that she did not know what he meant. He had obviously seen Crispin too, and guessed from his uniform who he was. That meant that Katherine had told him the story. How embarrassing! She was thirty years old and a spinster because the only love of her life had abandoned her and married someone else. And all she had to do was see him again and she went stumbling over the feet of her dancing partner.

    The pattern of the dance separated them for a while, but Margaret replied as soon as they came together again between the lines to circle each other back to back.

    “That all happened years ago,” she told him. “I have quite forgotten it.”

    Which was a remarkably ridiculous thing to say. What all happened years ago? he might well ask. And how would she even be able to refer to it if she had forgotten it? She had only made herself look more abject in her brother-in-law's eyes.

    Oh, how she hated this! Where had the years gone? And how had she somehow been left behind? And where was the Marquess of Allingham when she most needed him? Whatever would she say to Crispin if he talked to her later and asked where her betrothed was?
    She was just going to have to tell the truth, that was all—that there was no such man, that there was no such betrothal. And she must not even add the face-saving words not yet, anyway . She would thereby risk humiliating herself further if for some reason the marquess was not in town this year.

    And let her learn her lesson from this. She would never allow herself to be goaded into telling a lie again—even the smallest of white lies.
    Lies could only bring one grief.

    And then suddenly, just before the set came to an end, there he was at last—the Marquess of Allingham, strolling through the ballroom doors, looking dearly familiar. He stopped to look about. He had not seen her yet, Margaret realized as she circled about Jasper again and returned to her line. But that did not matter. The important thing was that he was here—and looking very distinguished indeed in his black and white evening clothes. There was a natural stateliness of manner about him. He must have seen someone else he knew and moved purposefully in that direction.

    The set came to an end and she rested her hand on Jasper's sleeve.

    “Thank you,” she said, laughing. “I must be quite out of practice. I am all out of breath. But it was a delightful way to begin the evening.”

    “It was,” he agreed. “For a few minutes I was assailed by the uncomfortable suspicion that all the other gentlemen in the