Chapter Five

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~Once again, for the amazing cover, LadyWildfire...~

Chapter Five

A young lady must be very careful how she refuses to dance with a gentleman. Next to refusing an offer of marriage, few things are so likely to draw upon her the indignation of the rejected applicant, for unless a good reason is given, he is apt to take it as evidence of a personal dislike.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

“Lord Beverly,” Victoria said stiffly, “by continuously plaguing me with requests to dance after my initial refusal of the first, I feel it is my duty to enunciate quite eloquently yet again that this will not ordain a response in the affirmative on my part. Now, politely remove your presence from my company.”

An unbelievably thick-skinned man there never was when compared to Lord Christopher Beverly. A couple of inches shorter than Vicky, he was a bow-legged dandy of the first design. Even now, dressed in his black evening attire, Beverly practically oozed pomposity and a healthy portion of vanity that just about gagged Vicky. But that could just be because the man harboured a significant fondness for overwhelming cologne that smelt very much like asparagus. Beverly also seemed to be of an opinion that he was the most attractive man at the Hawthorne Ball despite signs of premature balding in a receding blonde hairline and a ridiculously non-existent chin. However, the man was persistent for Victoria’s hand and had been ever since she had first made her debut. Why her family insisted on inviting him to these sorts of affairs was beyond her as she had made her dislike of the idiot abundantly clear, having even once socked him squarely in the eye when his advances became too ardent and forward. For two weeks Beverly had been plagued by questions about where he had acquired the ugly purple bruise around his left eye and he had concocted some story about a burglar in the middle of the night. Vicky knew better, though.

“Now, now Lady Colton,” Beverly drawled in an exceedingly nasal voice, “how long do you insist on denying yourself these urges? Oh, you’re little game of cat and mouse has been ever so fun and I daresay I do admire a bit of a challenge every now and then, but you wouldn’t want me to grow bored, now would you?”

Victoria glowered at the dense man furiously. “Oh, I do want you to grow bored,” she hissed. “Please please please grow bored.”

“You really are a stubborn girl,” he intoned gleefully, sidling closer to her and letting his clammy fingers glide up the skin of her arm.

Vicky shuddered. She was going to hit him again and this time it wouldn’t be in the private setting of the Cunningham’s gardens. This time it would be in the middle of a ballroom packed to capacity, an utter crush.

“Remove you hand,” she ground out, seething.

“Vicky, there you are!” Dani breathed suddenly, exhausted from the exertion of winding her way through the masses to get to her side. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”

Oh, thank God. “Excuse me,” Vicky spat at Lord Beverly, abruptly turning her back on the man and applying some distance and some people between him and her. When they were out of earshot, she said fervently to Dani, “Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” Dani said breezily. “It looked as if you were going to hit him again anyway. You know me, always the martyr.”

“I was going to hit him again,” Vicky confirmed, steering them towards the refreshment table located at the other end of the ballroom. “Truly, it is a wonder I didn’t sooner. The man has been pestering me all evening.”

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