Averting his gaze, Edward instead watched dancers spiraling across the ballroom. Music pushed them onward. Light glittered all around them. He noticed Lord Simon Matherson headed his way and groaned. No doubt the man wanted to brag about this year’s thoroughbred that he intended to race during Assize-week as if Edward might care about such a thing. Which he did not.
Before Simon reached him, however, disaster struck. Disaster in the shape of Robert Thorne, who had just backed into his cousin Elizabeth, spilling punch down the front of her gown. From there, he nearly bowled over half his guests as he ran from the Irvings to the safety behind a potted plant on the other side of the room.
One glance at James told all Edward he needed to know. Robert fled from his duties. Left behind a nervo
