A Terrible Beauty (Season of the Furies Book 1) Read Free Page B

against Katherine and Araby felt a surge of admiration for Drew.
    “Lady Arabella, I was hoping you had an unclaimed waltz,” he said clearly and without even a hint of nervous stammering. He looked up at her with sincere adoration and Araby realized that if Drew were allowed to come into himself he would one day be not only handsome, but charming and perhaps even a little commanding. She steeled herself against softening towards him. It would only endanger them both.
    “Hope springs eternal, as they say,” she drawled as she arched one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. She knew the effect suited her. “Don’t you ever get tired of being rebuffed, Drew?”
    “Yes,” he replied with candor, “but not enough to stop asking for a waltz.” His blue eyes held a soft, open expression and when Araby looked closer she saw the one thing in them more dangerous to her than anything else – sympathy. She immediately bridled. If he'd heard the whispers of Arland's hasty marriage to Damaris Kingsford, so had others. She looked out over the ballroom trying to discern any twitters, or sneers cast in her direction. There was nothing apparent and she turned her attention back to Drew. How dare he feel sorry for her. He was not even her social equal, not here in her kingdom where cachet counted more than social rank. Very well. In short order he would find his sympathy misplaced. He could have his waltz, but she doubted he would be smiling by the time it ended.
    “As luck would have it I have saved the next one.” She gave him a smile that other men had called bewitching. Clearly, Drew thought so as well. “For right now you may escort me to the refreshment table.” Drew offered his arm. His eyes gleamed with happiness and his grin widened. Araby placed her hand in the crook of his arm and nodded to her friends. No, Drew Lassiter would not dance attendance on her this evening. She could guarantee it.
    “You look lovely tonight, Lady Arabella,” Drew said once they were out of earshot of her friends. That...that color suits you.”
    “Really?” Araby asked, slanting her gaze at him artfully. She knew how to tease. “And what color would you call it, Drew?”
    “Pink, I suppose...I...I really don’t know.” He was nicely flustered, but then he surprised her. “All I know is that it glows around you like a rose arbor in full bloom. You’re this light in the very center, beautiful, yet so fragile. What color is it?”
    She looked away from him, fumbling with the fan she held in one hand. “The draper called it Romantic Rose,” she murmured. Why did he have to say such things to her? Why did he have to notice what she tried to keep hidden? Just then a noise caught both their attention. It was a single, heart-wrenching cry, and a young girl ran towards the doorway, her chaperone in hot pursuit.
    “What’s happened to Miss Stevens?” Araby asked, tracing the path of the girl’s flight back to its source. Then she knew. Three young men stood laughing, two of them apparently congratulating the third.
    Drew make a sound of disgust. “I see Bennet hasn’t lost his taste for tormenting the helpless. Miss Stevens was tonight’s quarry. Each of them danced with her and then staged a mock argument over who would claim the supper dance.” At Araby’s raised eyebrow he continued. “The idea was to make her believe she’d taken at last and then dash her hopes by letting her know it was all a joke. Charming, isn’t it?” He spoke the last bitterly. Drew had plenty of experience being set up to look the fool amongst her set and much of it came at her own hand. She didn’t like Bennet, however. He was never satisfied to simply give clever set downs. He was cruel and he never knew when to stop.
    “They did it to impress you,” Drew stated flatly. “Miss Stevens is a cit, an upstart American with no family connections to protect her. Muriel Cathcart and Susannah Grantham suggested the prank and told Bennet that humiliating