“And here we are,” Barbara murmurs smugly, for his ears only, out on the ballroom floor “waltzing again.”

The Hon. James Gordon grits his teeth, not sure how it came to this. He should have given Miss Kean the cut direct for all that she has done, for all the promises of what she will do flashing in her eyes, but he could not, and as she says, here they are, waltzing again, and he is dizzy.