A Winter Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

her face. Thea had indulged in a final bit of vanity by removing her spectacles and leaving them on her dresser.
    Without her glasses, she could see little more than a blur beyond a few feet in front of her, and at first, as she descended the stairs, she felt a little frightened by her lack of vision. However, when she followed Veronica into the ballroom and realized that the crowd spread out before her was nothing more than soft, fuzzy shapes and colors, she relaxed. It was quite pleasant, actually, not to see the people around her. She was, she thought with some amusement, rather like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand—unable to see anyone with clarity, she felt herself somehow invisible.
    She took her usual place beside Veronica and her mother against the wall of the large ballroom. A small orchestra played at one end of the room, and couples danced in a haze of color and motion in front of her. Before long, Veronica was asked to dance, and Thea’s mother, blessed with the same sort of easy social grace Veronica possessed, was deep in conversation with the wife of Sir Joseph Symonds. Thea plied her fan gently in the warmth and wondered what Gabriel Morecombe was doing. At least she could not embarrass herself this evening by looking for him since she could see only a few feet past the end of her nose.
    After some time she was roused from her reverie by her mother’s voice, saying, “Thea, dear, Lady Fenstone is here.”
    “Hmm?” Thea turned, somewhat reluctantly letting go of the daydream about a dark-eyed man that she had been spinning in her head, and looked over at her mother. The Earl’s wife was standing in front of Mrs. Bainbridge, looking at Thea, and beside her stood Gabriel Morecombe.
    It was all Thea could do to keep her mouth from dropping open in astonishment. “M … ma’am.” Thea shot to her feet, sending the fan that had been resting in her lap tumbling to the floor with a clatter. “Oh!”
    She bent to retrieve the fan, but Morecombe had already scooped it up. He did not offer it to her, just smiled at her, his dark eyes sparking with laughter. Thea didn’t know whether to reach for the fan, so she just twisted her hands together awkwardly and turned once more toward the Countess. Remembering that she had not curtsied to the older woman as she should have, she did so now, thinking miserably that she must look even more gauche.
    The corner of the Countess’s mouth twitched, whether from irritation or amusement Thea was not sure. She gave a small nod to Thea and said, “Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Morecombe.” The Countess turned toward the young man. “Mr. Morecombe, my cousins, Mrs. Latimer Bainbridge and Miss Althea Bainbridge.”
    “Ma’am.” Gabriel executed a perfect bow over Thea’s mother’s extended hand, then turned to bow to Thea. “Miss Bainbridge. ’Tis a pleasure to meet you. May I ask for the honor of this dance?”
    Thea gaped at him. “Me?”
    She heard the Countess emit a little sigh, and Alice Bainbridge said quickly, “That sounds lovely. Go ahead, Althea, it was good of you to keep me company, but I shall be fine here by myself.”
    A flush spread across Thea’s cheeks. She was being thoroughly graceless, and she knew that Mr. Morecombe was laughing at her. Though his smile could be mistaken for polite interest, the light in his eyes could be nothing but laughter. She supposed she should be grateful that he was reacting in such good humor. He could have been sullen about Lady Fenstone’s dragging him across the room to ask the wallflower cousin to dance—for Thea was well aware that that was what was going on here—but he did not betray even the slightest disdain. Still, Thea could not help but surge with resentment that he found her ineptness comical; it made her doubly irritated because she knew she did, indeed, look comical.
    “Very well.” Thea knew her words came out grudgingly, but she could not manage to twist them into anything