Chapter Seven
Ye may be wonderin’ why I dwell so much on the topic o’ the ball. Well! And why not? It’s an important event, as ye’ll soon see. Fer Aubranael, poor fellow, the promise o’ the ball was as the promise o’ water to a man dyin’ o’ thirst. An’ t’Sophy… well, she was by no means so indifferent as she pretended. All that faffing wi’ gowns an’ trim! But who could wonder at it? My Sophy’s no more impervious to a little admiration than any other, that’s fer sure—no matter what she may say. An’ this ball… well, let’s just say that nothin’ was quite the same after.
Aubranael stood near the great double doors of the Adairs’ ballroom, keeping a close eye on the stream of guests as they arrived. Miss Landon was late, he thought; the room was rapidly filling up, and as yet there was no sig
