Lord Windham left Samantha’s company only to be snatched up ever so quickly by Betty, practically iridescent in the candlelight. Without a word they were on the dance floor, though she was deferential enough to allow him to lead. And lead he did, to the far end of the ballroom from where Samantha entertained her new suitors.

“Your friend is quite…elusive,” Betty said, her voice warm and playful.

“De Grave is many things, as we both know,” Lord Windham replied as his eyes kept nervous vigil over the expanse of the ballroom.

“But is he, of all things, in possession of le cierge?”

“You’ve grown more forward since we last met.”

Both were silent for a time, letting the music and bustle take the place of conversation. There was much to be said. There was little desire to have it said.

The dance ended, and Lord Windham bowed, “Possible appearances to the contrary, I do have your interests at heart. When the moment is right, I shall act.” And with that, he slid into the crowd and was gone.