His companions use the excuse to ogle me. Norrington’s gaze sweeps over me so fast I doubt he could identify my hair color two minutes later.

“Delighted to meet you, Miss Hastings,” Norrington says.

And that is it. He does not ask who I am or where I’m from or what my connection might be to Emily. His niece is a young woman, and I am a young woman, and if she has made a suitable local friend, that is all that matters. He speaks to Emily for another moment, and then she is hooking her arm in mine and leading me off to see the dance floor, which is not yet in use as the musicians are still preparing.

“Do you dance?” she asks. Then, “Oh, that is a silly question. Every girl in London must dance and dance beautifully.”

“I will not say beautifully. I dance well enough. It is one of those things where my interest outstrips my aptitude.”

She grins. “I think I can say that about all my interests. I am also but a fair dancer. I would be better if I had better partners. The choices here are . . .” She looks around the knots of middle-aged men. “Underwhelming.”

Before I can reply, she grips my arm. “I am certain he would be an excellent dancer.”

I follow her gaze but see only an elderly couple. She sees where I’m looking and giggles.

“No, silly, not him. The young Frenchman I told you about.” She sighs dreamily. “He is so graceful and charming. I know he would be heavenly on the dance floor. If only he could be here.”

Nicolas is here, somewhere. Safely here, I presume, as I have not heard any uproar or cries that sent Norrington running. We separated well out of sight of the estate, and Nicolas made his way from there.

I have also seen no sign of the elder Lord Norrington’s ghost. That isn’t unexpected. Spirits exist in a nether realm that is not quite the same as ours, and while he is able to travel more than poor Andrés, he will still be restricted in many ways. He had hoped to meet us before I entered the house. I am trying not to fret about that. I will need him for the rest of this adventure.

I will also need to slip away from Emily, which I am quickly realizing will not be easy. She is quite glued to my side.

I let her talk about Nicolas and how wonderful a dancer he would make. I agree—I would love to take a turn on the dance floor with him. Sadly, that will not be happening, and so I listen to her and then steer conversation toward other potential partners. That seems to be the best way to slip from her side—when the dancing starts, I must be sure her card is full. Which would work better if she had a card. Do they come into fashion later? I certainly cannot ask, so I only inquire whether there is a local method of scheduling one’s dances.