EXCERPT
“Miss Iverson has been quite amicable to every young man that we have presented to her all evening. Is something amiss, Lady Edevane?”
“Sharp as ever, Clementina. The boy has been toadying her for weeks and does not seem to take a hint.”
“I see!” Mrs. Drummond-Burrell replied, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She did not appreciate being used as means to force a young lady’s hand and made mental note to mention this episode to her fellow patronesses at their next meeting.
In the ballroom, Miss Iverson allowed herself to be led to the floor and begrudgingly took her place. As the music began, Mr. Moore’s arm came about her waist. Her eyes glanced up at his and she fixed a withering glare upon him. He was undaunted, and indeed barely managed to conceal a smirk.
“Why do you look at me so, Lucilla?” he asked mockingly.
“I do not recall giving you leave to use my name, Mr. Moore.”
“Perhaps you did not, but we are such old friends, what is the harm in it?”
“It may not be harmful, but as it is not pleasing to my ear, I will request you not use it, if you please,” she replied witheringly as they whirled about the room.
“Whatever have I done to make you so upset, Miss Iverson?”
“Other than your underhanded effort to force me to accept a waltz with you, Mr. Moore?”
“I should think the effort was rather successful,” was his cheerful reply.
Miss Iverson’s jaw clenched. People were watching, she knew, so for quite some time she performed her steps in silence while he spoke on mundane topics and considered himself to have won the round. No one could overhear them, but anyone could surely guess she was angry at her dancing partner, and so she forced herself to fix a smile on her face as she looked up at him again.
“It is clear to me that in spite of my mother’s efforts to convince me otherwise, you are quite aware that I do not seek to encourage your familiarity.” Her words were deliberately blunt in an attempt to knock him off his perch, and it appeared to succeed, for his brow darkened momentarily. But as suddenly as it appeared, the frown vanished and he plastered a false smile on his face.
“You wound me, Miss Iverson! What have I done to draw such ire? I have surely not offended you.”
“You are well aware that your attentions offend me.”
“I am at a loss to understand why, for I am your humble servant.”
This drew her eyes up in a flash, and she said scornfully, “Indeed!”
“Have I not loved you since childhood?”
“I vividly recall your penchant for tossing spiders at me.”
“Only in my childish efforts to gain your notice, I assure you.”
“Then I suppose you were also in love with my brothers?” she replied with sarcasm ebbing in her voice.
About the Author—
Looking forward to reading Exceptionally Unconventional. Thank you
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