“And you were doing such a good job setting an example,” said Cordelia. James laughed, but it sounded brittle as glass. Cordelia glanced back: Rosamund seemed to be gesturing for Grace to come with her to join some of the other unmarried girls, but Grace only shook her head and turned to Thoby.

A moment later Thoby had taken Grace by the hands and spun her out onto the dance floor. Rosamund looked after the two of them, her mouth open. Charles shrugged and walked off.

Cordelia couldn’t help but stare—there was nothing in the etiquette books that said one couldn’t dance with the host of a party, be he engaged, married, or single. But to enter a dance in the middle was odd, and for Grace to have asked Thoby—as she clearly had—was a startling breach. It would certainly win her no friends among Rosamund’s set.

And the look on Thoby’s face wouldn’t help. He was gazing down at Grace as they floated across the floor as if he had never beheld a more enchanting creature. If Charles minded, it wasn’t apparent: he was heading determinedly across the room toward Alastair, who stood alone by a pillar, looking weary.

“What’s wrong?” said James. “Daisy?”

It was a great irony, she thought, that he knew her so well. And a greater one that he had once left her on a dance floor and now she was going to leave him, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Alastair,” she said, drawing her hands from James’s. She hurried away, not looking back, darting through the maze of dancers till she burst out the other side.

Charles had already reached Alastair and was leaning casually against the pillar beside him. Alastair looked—well, Alastair looked expressionless, or would to someone who didn’t know him. Cordelia knew by his slumped posture—he was nearly sliding down the pillar—and the tightly fisted hands in his pockets that he was quite upset.

“I know you read mundane newspapers too,” Charles was saying, as Cordelia approached. “I wondered if you noticed the recent murder in the East End. It’s the sort of thing that seems as if it shouldn’t interest us, but on closer examination—”

Cordelia stepped up to Alastair, blinking demurely. She knew people were watching. She wanted to give them no reason to talk. “Charles,” she said, smiling with too many teeth, “I believe that you agreed to stay away from my brother.”

Charles raised a superior-looking eyebrow. “Cordelia, dear. Men have disagreements among themselves sometimes. It’s best to leave them be to sort it out.”

Cordelia looked at Alastair. “Do you wish to converse with Charles?”

Alastair shuffled upright. “No,” he said.

Charles flushed. It made his freckles stand out like angry dots. “Alastair,” he said. “Only a coward needs to be rescued by his little sister.”