“I hate the dirty weasel,” Victoria said.
“So do I,” Angelica added.
“No one hates him more than I,” Samantha said.
“I’m so glad that’s settled,” Aunt Roxie drawled. “Can we go inside now?”
Long forgotten memories surfaced when they walked into the foyer. Samantha remembered her parents in evening dress, kissing her good night before they went out. She could almost smell the reassuring scent of her mother’s lilac fragrance.
“Do you remember any of this?” Victoria whispered.
“Vaguely, but Angelica would remember best,” Samantha answered.
Their party walked upstairs to the second-floor ballroom. Charles Emerson, his son, Alexander, and his daughter, Venetia Emerson Campbell, stood at the top of the ballroom and spoke with guests. The orchestra played at the opposite end of the room and consisted of a cornet, a piano, a cello, and two violins.
Samantha saw Angelica and Robert step onto the dance floor. The marquess and her sister seemed made for each other. Perhaps Aunt Roxie was correct that Angelica would marry Robert Campbell and, one day, become the Duchess of Inverary.
Turning to speak to her aunt, Samantha froze as the uncanny feeling of being watched, overwhelmed her senses. She looked around but detected no one paying her any particular attention. Still, the uncomfortable feeling persisted.
And then Robert Campbell stood in front of her. “May I have this dance?”
Samantha felt her face reddening and panic rising in her breast. She wished her sister hadn’t put the marquess up to this. “Would you mind terribly if I postponed our dance until later? I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by this crowd.”
The marquess nodded. “Whenever you feel ready.”
“I’ll dance with you,” Victoria spoke up.
“Tory, ladies do not invite gentlemen to dance,” Aunt Roxie scolded.
“I was just about to ask,” Robert said, holding out his hand to Victoria.
Angelica sidled up to Samantha. “Why won’t you dance?”
“I have no wish to become a spectacle.”
“I promise, you will not—”
Again, Samantha felt uneasy. Someone was definitely watching her. And then she saw him.
With his arms folded across his chest, the gentleman leaned against the wall and ignored the circle of female admirers surrounding him. Easily the handsomest man she’d ever seen, the gentleman in black evening attire stared at her with an intensity that made her feel weak-legged. He held her gaze captive for a long moment and then perused her body slowly as if savoring each curve. He lifted his gaze to hers again and inclined his head in her direction by way of a long-distance greeting.
Samantha gave him a cold stare and then turned away. A moment later, unable to control the impulse, she peeked at him.
He was still watching her. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. When he nodded at her again, Samantha inclined her head in his direction. Her lips turned up in an answering smile.
“Did you hear what I said?” Angelica asked.
Samantha focused on her sister. “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.”
The dance ended. Robert and Victoria joined them.
“Here comes trouble,” Robert whispered, his lips quirking.
Samantha glanced in the direction he was looking. Venetia, the marquess’ widowed sister-in-law, walked in their direction. With her was the gentleman who’d been staring at her. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to dance.
“Lady Angelica, here is Prince Rudolf to renew your acquaintance,” Venetia said.
Samantha struggled to keep from laughing. Her sister was caught in an outrageous lie, having bragged to the other woman that the Russian prince had once proposed marriage to her.
“Your Highness, how good to see you again,” Angelica said, bluffing her way out of a bad situation. “You remember my sisters, Samantha and Victoria.”
Samantha nearly swooned when the prince looked at her and said, “I could never forget such beauty.”
“You haven’t danced with me, Robert,” Venetia said, feigning a pout.
“I was looking forward to our dance.” Robert held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Once they’d gone, Angelica said, “Thank you, Your Highness, for going along with my fabrication.”
“I suppose we were the closest of friends?” Prince Rudolf asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
The prince smiled. “Did you leave me brokenhearted?”
“Absolutely devastated.”
Samantha studied the prince while her sister spoke with him. Prince Rudolf was as tall as the marquess, a few inches over six feet. Like the marquess, the prince was broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and magnificent in his formal evening attire. Fathomless black eyes shone from his handsome face, accentuated by his black hair.