I was a poor dancing companion for my so-called “admirers.”

“Your name is Miss Delacourt, is it not?”

“Hmm…? Oh, yes, it is.”

As soon as Lord Windham had left my side, he was quickly snatched up by Betty. He looked all too happy to lead her in the next dance, a waltz. I kept sneaking glances at them. They made a handsome couple, but they never smiled. In fact, they looked strangely serious, their eyes never leaving the other’s face.

I scarcely paid attention to the men with whom I danced. I just kept nodding or smiling in the appropriate places, trying to imitate Isabelle’s charm (and probably failing miserably in the attempt).

Isabelle kept flashing meaningful looks my way, but I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to tell me.

Lord Windham never once looked at me. He was too preoccupied with Betty.

When the dance ended, he bowed deeply before her and then quickly left the room.

Ten o’clock came and went but he never returned to claim his dance with me. I tried not to look too disappointed.