Isabella stood by the edge of the dance floor, her hands curled into fists at her sides, lips pressed into a thin line. She had every intention of storming across the floor to confront her husband and Lady Harcourt, who were currently spinning in a clumsy sort of dance.
Just as she took her first step forward, a tall figure stepped into her path, blocking her like a well-dressed wall. "Forgive me, my lady," came a smooth voice.
She stopped, blinking up at the tall figure before her. He bowed deeply, then took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles with the flair of someone who had practised the move in every mirror he had ever passed.
"I'm Lord Julian, Marquess of Westbury," he said with a charming smile and just a touch of slurred speech. "And you, dear lady, are by far the most radiant creature in this room. Why in heaven's name are you standing alone?"
