Mr. Chastain opened the front door, and Henry offered his arm to Flora to escort her to the carriage. I followed, conscious of my true position in the household for perhaps the first time since I’d been employed. The driver helped Flora up into the carriage. She situated herself in the forward-facing seat. Henry took my hand to help me up, and I took the rear-facing seat. When Henry boarded, he turned to sit beside Flora, but she raised a hand to stop him. “No, you’ll squash my skirts. Sit with Miss Newton.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “As you wish, my lady.” I moved aside and gathered my skirts to give him room. None of us tried to converse during the drive. I grew increasingly nervous about what I would face that night since I had no real idea of what a chaperone should do at a ball. The tight lacing of my corset didn’t help when my breath was already short.

There was a long line of carriages at the governor’s manor, and we spent as much time waiting to reach the doorway and disembark as it had taken us to make the drive up to the tip of the island. I passed the time by looking out the window. From here, I had a commanding view of the city. It was almost like seeing it from the airship. Everything looked calm from this vantage point, but I had a feeling something would happen that night, given what I was sure was a diversionary show at the Mechanics’ theater and the officers being at the ball.

At last, it was our turn to stop under the porte cochere and leave the carriage. Here, as at the Lyndon house, Henry escorted Flora, with me following. A footman announced the arrival of Lord Henry Lyndon and Lady Flora Lyndon as we entered the ballroom down a short flight of stairs.

I’d read plenty of books in which the characters attended grand balls, but the words on the pages hadn’t prepared me for the splendor of the ballroom. Elinor had referred to it as an impromptu gathering, but if this was something just thrown together, I couldn’t imagine what a true grand ball would be like. Even if the room had been bare, the profusion of elaborate gowns in bright colors, along with the brilliant red of the military uniforms and the gleaming brass of buttons and medals, would have been overwhelming.

But the room wasn’t bare. Its walls were mirrored, the mirrors reflecting light from half a dozen magical chandeliers dripping with crystals. The effect was like sunlight striking water on a windy day. Nearly every surface in the room held densely packed arrangements of roses. The air was heady with the scent.