“I’m fine. I just needed a moment.”

He shoved the sides of his dinner jacket apart and put his hands on his hips. “Why?”

“It’s nothing.”

“I should hope it’s something after you just put yourself at the center of everyone’s attention. Again.”

She hadn’t done anything but excuse herself and come into the hall. How on earth could that disappoint her father so fiercely? Anger slid across her skin, radiating from deep inside. She was tired of being a disappointment, of feeling so wrong all the time, especially when it was undeserved. Daddy wished to know what happened? Fine, she would tell him. “Mr. Connors made me uncomfortable. I wanted to get away from him.”

Brows knitted, her father rocked back on his heels. “Connors? I’ve known him forever. What on earth would he say to make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t know—”

“Tell me exactly, Florence. None of your dancing around a topic this time.”

Another barb. She mentally brushed it aside. “That he admired me, that I’m different from the other girls my age. That perhaps I’d prefer an older husband, one more mature.”

“And?” her father prompted when she stopped.

“And that he’s been watching me.”

“That’s it?”

Her father’s expression was stern and forbidding yet she forged ahead. “His leg brushed mine under the table.”

“Which could have been an accident.”

She blew out a long breath. “Combined with what he said?”

“Let me understand. He complimented you, made an observation about the possibility of an older man for you—a possibility I happen to agree with—and accidentally brushed your leg under the table. Because of this, you caused a scene by bolting from the table.”

“I did not cause a scene, Daddy.”

“Don’t argue with me, young lady. It’s always the same with you. You’re not happy unless you’re causing a stir or the center of everyone’s attention.”

Florence pressed her lips together and folded her arms across her chest. He wouldn’t listen to her anyway, he never did, so why bother trying to explain herself? No one cared how she truly felt on the inside.

“Now, get back in there and sit down,” her father ordered. “I expect you to be quiet and polite for the remainder of dinner. Ignore Connors if what he says bothers you. He’s harmless, and I won’t have you snubbing our friends.”

She lifted her chin, impotent fury burning so brightly in her chest that she couldn’t speak.

“Do you understand me?” he asked in his sternest voice, one she’d heard a thousand times.

“Yes, Daddy.”

She marched past him and headed to the dining room. From behind her, she heard him mutter, “I swear, that girl’ll be the death of us all.”