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Dante had no desire to step into the parson’s noose.

She offered the curtsey she’d spent her childhood perfecting and added, “You look quite dashing yourself, Mr. Rose.”

He smiled at her for the first time in over a week and extended his arm. “Would you care for some champagne?”

“Yes. I would love some. I’ve never had it before.”

“Ah, then we must correct that oversight.” They strolled to the area set up with silver punch bowls filled with both spirited and non-spirited punch, along with a variety of wines, liquors, and champagne. Three extra footmen had been employed for the evening to wander the room with trays of champagne. A fourth temporary employee would be in control of the table holding the liquor.

Dante snatched two glasses and handed one to Amelia. “You certainly look like you belong in such surroundings. Quite comfortable.”

She stiffened at his soft words and slight smirk. Whatever did he mean by that? Confused by his statement, she thought it best to merely smile and sip her champagne. “Will the earl join us tonight?”

Dante nodded. “Yes, Lord Huntington was persuaded to leave their new offspring long enough to at least make an appearance.” He smirked. “I don’t expect to see him for long, however. My sister-in-law is not one who believes anyone but herself can handle the child, and Hunt will want to be right there supporting her.

“Have you seen the baby?” She grimaced as the bubbles from the champagne tickled her nose.

“Ah, yes. Driscoll and I were there when the birthing hysteria began. We felt it best to leave our brother to deal with his wife. However, we did return the next day to bestow our admiration on the urchin.”

“A beautiful child, I am sure.”

Raised eyebrows and a slight grin was the only answer Dante provided. He looked toward the door. “I believe with Driscoll missing, I needs make myself available to greet the members.” He bowed in her direction. “If you will excuse me.”

She watched him walk off and looked around to see where the other women from the club were. Margie and Betsy were speaking with two men across the room, and she decided to join them.

Amelia felt herself more observer than attendee. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. Being a non-member of Polite Society due to her isolation most of her life, she knew no one.

But she did enjoy watching the activities and conversing with Betsy and Margie. She hummed and swayed with the music until a man sauntered up to them, offered a slight bow and stared directly at her. “Well, who have we here?”

Betsy giggled and waved at Amelia. “Ah, since this is a masquerade ball, my lord, you must wait until midnight when everyone removes their masks.”

Amelia felt a jolt of panic. They were to remove their masks at midnight? Why hadn’t anyone told her this? She could not take a chance on someone recognizing her. For heaven’s sake Mr. Lyons might even be here! It would behoove her to keep track of the time and make sure she was upstairs, safe and sound in her bedchamber when the clock struck twelve. She giggled. Like Cinderella.

The young lord who Betsy chastised for asking for names looked at Amelia. “May I request a dance, my dear?”

She grew cold at his request. Addressing her so familiarly unnerved her. She was beginning to believe since Driscoll was unable to attend, she might have been better off passing on the ball. However, since denying the man a dance would appear quite odd, she attempted a smile. “Of course. I would enjoy a dance.”

“Ah, a waltz, my favorite.” He extended his elbow, and she rested her hand on his arm. They moved to the area that had been set aside for dancing. The dance began and the first thing she noticed was he was too close, held her too tight. She attempted to push herself back, but his arm clamped around her waist and he merely laughed. She could smell the alcohol coming from his breath.

He leaned in close to her ear. “I might not know your name, little lady, but I know you’re the dealer here who has all the men wagering on who you are. How about we take a walk outside? You could give me a peek at your lovely face under the mask. Help me win the bet.”

She moved her head to one side, her eyes watering at the stench of liquor coming from his mouth. The panic started in her chest at his words. There were wagers on who she was? She must give serious consideration to leaving her employment sooner than she had hoped. “No, sir. I am fine here.”

Once again, she attempted to put space between them. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, I thought all you girls liked being held close.”

Anger swelled in her stomach. “I am not one of the girls who like to be held tight, sir. In fact, I believe I prefer to end this dance now.” She tugged and apparently taking him off guard, he released her.

“Now wait a minute. I have money. I can pay you.”

Her hand itched to slap his insolent face, but rather than make a scene, she walked as quickly as she could from the man, dodging other dancers as she fled.

“Miss Pence?” Dante’s voice managed to break through the pounding of her heart. He took her hand to halt her escape. “Is everything all right?”

Taking a deep breath, she turned and offered him a bright smile. “Everything is fine. I think I just need a breath of fresh air.”

“I will be happy to escort you.” He studied her carefully.

She shook her head. “No. There is no need for you to do that. I will just step outside for a minute or two.”

“If you are sure. . .”

“I am,” she snapped, anxious to escape.

She hurried away, just wanting to leave the room. The crowd had grown somewhat since she’d first come downstairs. She passed two men sitting side-by-side on a comfortable settee with

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