The dim lighting showed that Lady Denshire was graceful with dark chestnut hair and her head raised high. In the lift of her chin, Lucas saw pride, anger, defiance, and terror. She was a female version of himself, in fact, and he saw her posture change as defiance was assaulted by fear and humiliation.

She slowly turned, her gaze sweeping over the retreating guests as if looking for a friendly face. She was beautiful and haunted and desperately alone.

On impulse, he crossed the empty ballroom and smiled at the woman in black. “I’m Foxton, Lady Denshire. Though we haven’t been formally introduced, will you join me for a waltz?” On that last word he shot a commanding glance at the musicians. The leader nodded in relief to have some direction and the quartet struck up a waltz.

She froze, looking like a deer ready to take flight. “Why do you want to dance with me? I am a pariah.”

“I’m something of a pariah myself,” he said peaceably, “and I was not put on this earth to cast stones.” He extended his hand again. “Waltz with me.”

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

Kendra looked into the man’s eyes and saw only kindness. She took his hand, desperately grateful that he was offering support in a whirlpool of condemnation. As they began to waltz, she felt the warmth of his grip through her kidskin gloves and realized that her hands were ice cold.

Whatever had possessed her to come to this ball? Because she wanted justice, but she would not find it here. She concentrated on the steps of the waltz, not needing the further humiliation of stumbling over her partner’s feet.

“I just realized that we have been formally introduced,” Foxton said. “Many years ago. I was Lucas Mandeville and unless my eyes deceive me, you were Kendra Douglas then.”

She raised her gaze and really looked at her partner. Blond hair, strong, regular features, and the expression of a haunted saint. It took time to recognize that this man had once been a lively young midshipman she’d flirted with in her first season.

He looked like a man who had traveled long, hard roads between then and now. Or rather sailed stormy seas since he’d been a Royal Navy officer. “The last time we danced together was the night before you left for Plymouth to join your ship.”

He nodded. “You wore a very pretty gown with a lot of blue embroidery that made your eyes look like sapphires.”

She’d forgotten that herself. Mr. Mandeville had been too young and too excited by his new career to be husband material, but she’d liked him and wished him well. “You have a good memory. You were dashing and charming and I was sorry when you departed to join your ship.”