Will was cursing himself again. For years he had had a deserved reputation for being a lady-killer. He knew to a pin how to compliment a woman, how to turn a teasing, merry moment into an erotic question. And how to ask a woman to marry him. Lord knows, he’d asked three so far. So where had all his skill gone? He felt like a young buck trying to make the acquaintance of a duchess.

“Perhaps this is not a good time,” he finally said. At that Chloe looked up, her eyes briefly meeting his, and then she looked back down again. “I apologize for insulting your gown, Miss van Stork,” he said with deliberate formality. “I was, naturally, driven only by jealousy.” But he said it so lightly that it sounded like a mere excuse.

Chloe nodded in response.

“Shall I escort you inside? I am sure your next dance partner must be looking for you.”

A faint pink rose in Chloe’s cheeks. She was struggling not to cry as she never had before. She nodded silently again. Will took her arm and gave her without another word into the arms of her next partner. Thankfully the dance was a reel, and Chloe didn’t have to say anything and only smiled punctiliously at her partner when she bumped up against him in the movements of the dance.

The evening progressed. Chloe thought she’d never been to a more horrible ball in her life. Will, savagely aware of every man who took Chloe into his arms, flirted outrageously with the wife of Captain Prebworth. And everyone knew that Camilla Prebworth was no better than she should be, Chloe thought miserably. She tried not to watch, but somehow she just kept seeing Will’s blond head wherever she looked. Perhaps she should plead a headache and go home? But then … then she wouldn’t see Will again tonight, and he might disappear into the country. Wasn’t it better to see him from afar than not to see him at all? She argued with herself back and forth.

Watching Charlotte and Alex wave good-bye from the top of the ballroom stairs only fed her heartache. They were so happy, so obviously in love. Alex looked at Charlotte as if she were the moon and the stars…. You wouldn’t catch him saying that his wife looked like a French tart, Chloe thought furiously. And then she blinked back tears again. It was probably just that Charlotte was naturally aristocratic, being a duke’s daughter, and Will thought she, Chloe, was too low-born to wear a gown like this. First she felt like throwing up, and then like slapping him in the face.