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her eyes for a moment, Joanna
searched for another obligation. Amelia piped up for her. “You
haven’t forgotten you said you’d call on my aunt with me, have you,
Lady Joanna? She is so looking forward to your visit.”
    Joanna smiled. “Of course I won’t disappoint
the dear woman. She has suffered so much of late.”
    “Well, perhaps another time.” Sir Frederick
stopped and bowed again. “Good day to you both.”
    As he walked away, Joanna hugged her friend,
grinning widely. “Do you even have an aunt?” she whispered.
    “I do, but she lives in Yorkshire. I don’t
believe we could visit her and be back in time for Lady
Harrington’s ball tonight.” They both laughed and continued on
their way.
    Joanna was quiet for a moment, recalling
their earlier topic of conversation. “What did you mean, ‘that
Cambridge incident,’ regarding Knightwick?”

Chapter Five
     
    Joanna took the offered glass of lemonade
from her dance partner, desperately trying to recall his name. Mr.
Digby? Rigby? No, that was not correct. “Thank you, Mr. Bigby.”
    He bowed, his puffy, pink complexion aglow
in the bright ballroom. Admittedly, the crowded space was
uncomfortably warm, but surely that didn’t account for the way the
man’s pale, thin locks were plastered to his head. Even the cup
he’d handed her was damp.
    Seeing Mrs. Clawson seated on a chaise
beside Joanna’s mother, Joanna rose on her toes in search of
Amelia. Her friend was so petite she was impossible to find in any
crowd. Her distinctive laugh often gave her away but she was
certain to be on her best behavior at Lady Harrington’s ball and
refrain from such outbursts. She should have returned directly
after the last set finished, so her next partner would find
her.
    Unable to see her friend, Joanna wondered
how long she must converse with Mr. Bigby. No one had asked to
stand up with her for the next few sets, so she might be trapped
there until the supper dance.
    Mr. Bigby cleared his throat. “Miss Smithers
looks quite recovered from her recent complaint, does she not?”
    The miss in question appeared quite robust,
enjoying the attentions of three young beaux. “Yes, she does.”
    Mr. Bigby’s next observation was lost when
Amelia appeared on the arm of a lord whose title Joanna couldn’t
recall. Handing her cup to a footman passing by with a tray, Joanna
exhaled a sigh of relief. “There you are, Miss Clawson.”
    The lord greeted Joanna before taking his
leave. Joanna wished Bigby would follow suit, but the man hovered
just behind her right arm. Amelia glanced his way and tilted her
head in question, but Joanna couldn’t say anything untoward in his
presence. Instead, she asked, “Who is your next partner?”
    Amelia’s smile widened. “Sir Richard Tanton.
I cannot believe he approached me,” she added in a whisper.
    Lowering her voice and speaking close to
Amelia’s ear, Joanna said, “The marquess’ son? But I thought he had
an acknowledged tendre for Lady Elizabeth.”
    “As did I. But the on dits has it her
father turned him down.”
    Joanna swallowed a gasp of surprise, and
looked for Mr. Bigby again. She was relieved to see he’d left her
side. “The poor girl! She must be heartbroken. And you do not mind
that Sir Richard had set his cap on another before you?”
    Her shoulders lifted briefly, but her face
didn’t betray any emotion. “This is my third Season. Every eligible
gentleman has most certainly considered some richer or prettier
lady before me.”
    “Do not believe such a thing. There are new
faces at the assemblies each Season, gentlemen as well as ladies.
Perhaps we will both find husbands by summer.” The likelihood of
her own success depended on being partnered with someone other than
Mr. Bigby and his perspiring palms.
    Sir Richard approached just as the musicians
were warming up for the next set. After acknowledging Joanna, he
led Amelia toward the center of the room. Joanna glanced back at
her mother, who was