“That is kind of you to say,” she mumbled and snatched her wineglass. The man on the other side of her was in a deep discussion with another guest, and Florence had no way out of this interaction short of bolting from the table. She tried to catch her mother’s eye but she was listening to Mr. Van Alan. When Florence’s gaze swung to her father, she found him watching her closely. She lifted her brows meaningfully, hoping he would understand her need for rescue.

Duncan shook his head once, as if to say, Whatever it is, do not make a scene.

The little kernel of hope in her chest popped. Why on earth had she thought anyone would help? Her parents had instructed her time and time again to fit in. Not to offend or be impolite. Be someone else, Florence. Wasn’t that really what they meant?

When her casino opened, she wouldn’t have to worry about all of this nonsense. She’d support herself, without the need for a father or husband to dole out pin money each month.

Ages ago she’d considered causing a scandal to ruin herself, therefore ending the need to attend any of these events. Two things had stopped her. First, a scandal would hurt her mother and sisters. Neither Mamie nor Justine was married yet and Florence hated the idea of ruining their prospects. Second, Florence needed the women of society to patronize her casino once it was finished. If she offended all of them by flouting their conventions now, she hadn’t a prayer of getting some of them in the casino later.

“I’m quite serious,” Connors was saying. “You are different than the other girls your age. I see a spark in you that they lack. I’ve always admired that in a woman.”

She took two swallows of wine, nearly gulping the contents of her glass. “Thank you.”

“You’ve turned down three proposals, haven’t you? I cannot blame you. Men your age are nothing but boys. Silly and immature. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t found someone yet. Perhaps you’d prefer someone older instead.”

A heavy leg pressed against hers and Florence didn’t wait to hear any more. She pushed back from the table and stood. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said to no one in particular and hurried into the corridor. When she was alone she leaned against the far wall and put a hand on her chest, hoping to ease her racing heart. Connors was her father’s age. The idea of marrying him caused her stomach to turn over.

And had he touched his leg to hers intentionally?

“Florence.”

Her head snapped up at that familiar voice. “Daddy, what are you doing out here?”

Duncan approached, his frown fully in place. “I was about to ask you the same thing. You bolted from the dinner table as if you were ill.”