Future husband.
Maggie did not know which churned her stomach more -- the gall of Nicholas, that oaf, who so swiftly discarded their past romance, or the knowledge that he was about to callously trample another noblewoman's heart, all in his craven pursuit of the Earldom?
She had to say something.
The tiny voice in her head urged her to.
Say something, Maggie.
Save Lady Bennett.
She looked so innocent with her bubbly face and sparkling hazel eyes. She would be an easy meal in Nicholas Cunningham's hands.
But with just one word from you...
Maggie opened her mouth to say something, but then another voice burrowed itself into her mind.
"Pretend you don't see them, and enjoy the ball."
Maggie swallowed hard. She did not know why, but she instinctively trusted the Marquess of Canterbury.
"Lady Bennett, Mr. Cunningham, it is very nice to see you."
"Lady Blanchard here is a true heroine," Lady Bennett told Nicholas with a series of cheerful giggles. "The way she jumped right into the river to pull William Burton out -- I mean, wow! None of us ladies even thought about that! We all feared water so greatly. If only we knew that the river was rather shallow..."
Maggie barely paid attention to what Lady Bennett was saying. All the time, she shot a glacial stare in Nicholas' direction. The man, on the other side, pretended not to notice her gaze at all.
Once enough pleasantries had been exchanged, Maggie removed herself from the couple's sight and returned to the ballroom area.
Exhaustion gnawed at her from every direction. Seeking refuge, Maggie retreated to the ladies' retiring chamber. Here, amidst the bustle of the ball, was a haven of tranquility specifically for ladies' use. Some ladies used this space for lively gossip, while others, like Maggie, simply craved a moment of quiet respite.
Pushing open the door, Maggie caught a snippet of hushed conversation escaping the room.
"Are you saying that that Lady Blanchard is the one mentioned in the pamphlet?" someone asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
Maggie closed the door again, leaving only a slit to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Seriously how many Lady Blanchards do you know?"
"How am I supposed to know? My family does not socialize with the Blanchard family at all!"
"Even if you do not know the Earl of Huntington personally, you should know that he only has one daughter. There is only one Lady Blanchard."
Maggie squeezed at her handkerchief, her lips pulled into a tight line.
"What is she even doing here?" a voice hissed. "This is the Duke of Winchester's exclusive ball, reserved for the very pinnacle of English society. Only the elite and the Duke's inner circle are granted invitations."
"Did you see her dancing with the Marquess of Canterbury?"
Several ladies fell into a chorus of groans.
"No way!" They exclaimed. "Not the Marquess!"
"Do you think that the Marquess secretly fancies her? I rarely see the Marquess on the dance floor. And with such a low-birth lady, too."
"No way. There is nothing special about her."
"Right. All of us are prettier, richer, and have better connections than Lady Blanchard."
"It's not the Marquess," another spoke. "Didn't you all know? Lady Blanchard was the one who saved little William Burton last week at the river."
The ladies broke into gasps.
"Really?"
"Yes, she jumped into the river."
"I could never," one of them cackled. "How unladylike."
"She must be wet from head to toe. I would rather die than show myself in drenched state to public eyes."
"But, I mean, she got an invitation to this ball. I guess it was worth it."
"I think she did it on purpose. Otherwise, how can she get an invitation to..."
The conversation stopped abruptly because Maggie chose that time to push open the door.
Everyone stared at her, utterly shocked at her sudden appearance.
"Lady Blanchard," one of them murmured with a nervous smile. "You are here. Come and rest a while. It must be tiring at the ballroom..."
Maggie's gaze drifted from one lady to another.
"Hello," she slowly spoke. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marguerite Delaney Antoine Blanchard, also known as the Lady Blanchard you were all talking about just now."
A suffocating silence hung heavy in the air. The ladies studiously avoided eye contact, their gazes fixed on the intricate patterns of the carpet as if trying to decipher a forgotten code.
"The whispers surrounding my birth seem to be growing louder with each passing day. Let me assure you, regardless of what rumors circulate, I am who I stand before you today. There was no calculated seduction of a Marquess, nor any desperate leap into a river on my part, to secure an invitation to this esteemed event."
Her gaze flicked toward a group of ladies, who flinched when they became aware of her disapproving look.
"Every life on earth is precious to me. I would have leaped into the river for anyone, regardless of birth. If one of you fell into the pond outside, I would be the one to pull you out."
Maggie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"It might be, as you said an 'unladylike' action, but it was worth it."
After delivering her defense, Maggie settled into silence.
She almost believed that the ladies would start ganging up on her, but they did no such thing.
Some appeared rather disgruntled while the others were tortured with unspoken guilt.
Thus, unwilling to force her way into their company, Maggie opted to leave.
But this time, she was not going to step outside for some fresh air anymore.
The night had stretched on, filled with events that left her nerves raw. Escape into a warm bed was the only solace she craved.
Maggie did not expect anything to happen for the next week, no drowning boy and no unexpected visit. Maybe an invitation to another social function, but she did not want to get her hopes up.
After all, she had yet to attract any suitors.
But the following day, a suitor actually came to call upon her.