Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles) by Suzanne Lazear Page B

pocket and handed it to the doorman.
    The doorman looked at the invitation, then at them. Noli’s belly knotted. He gave them a nod of approval. “Welcome.”
    They entered the museum lobby, checked in their wraps and his hat, and joined the line of couples to be announced into the ball. The strains of a waltz met her ears. Her belly didn’t unknot as she remembered why she hated these sorts of affairs.
    “Mr. Steven Darrow and Miss Magnolia Braddock,” the man announced to the room.
    Noli took a deep breath, well, as deep as she could with so much corsetry, and smiled as she and V entered the room. The main gallery had been cleared so there was room to dance, though fine paintings still lined the walls.
    Couples, young and old, waltzed across the floor. Most women were festooned in ribbons and lace to the point where they resembled cakes in the bakery. A few older women sat along one wall. Chaperones. Several young women chatted in small groups, waiting to be asked to dance. All of Los Angeles society seemed to be in attendance. A few women craned their necks as she and V entered. Great. She could practically hear the whispers.
    Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all. No, that was what they wanted. Jeff, Vix, V … even Thad and Asa. No one thought she could steal the gem. But she could.
    As for surviving the ball …
    “Oh. You came.” Missy sailed over, looking like a small steamboat in her navy and cream gown. All she needed was a hat with a whistle on it. Several girls trailed behind her, dance cards dangling from their wrists. Two whispered behind gloved hands and giggled.
    No. She wasn’t going to let them irritate her. Too much was at stake tonight.
    “Missy, ladies.” Noli had never bothered to learn all their names.
    “Mr. Darrow, don’t you look dashing? I’m glad you’ve returned from your travels. I can’t wait to hear all about them.” Missy took out her fan, fluttered it, and flashed him a look that was probably meant to be flirtatious, but instead made her look like a beaver.
    “Miss Sassafras, ladies.” V gave a little bow. “You all look well this evening.” He sounded bored and uninterested, which Missy failed to notice, flapping her fan and leaning in as if he were telling exciting stories.
    Missy looked down her pointed nose at Noli. “My, Noli, what an interesting dress.”
    Noli’s cheeks burned with ire. Interesting? In society-speak, “interesting” was a code word for “ugly” and could be applied to everything from gowns to girls. The dress was different, but not interesting.
    “I think she looks beautiful,” V retorted. “Miss Braddock, may I have the honor of a dance?”
    Before she could answer, V had her gliding across the floor to the one-two-three, one-two-three of the small orchestra. They twirled and whirled with the other couples to the rhythm of the music, not missing a step.
    “Did I do that correctly?” V held her tightly to him. “You turned as red as your dress. I figured interesting is girl code for something.”
    “It is, and you did. I appreciate that.” She had to move quickly and lightly to maneuver the skirt around the room; the train had a wrist-loop to help keep it from being stepped on. Several women gave her odd looks as they made their way around the floor. The bottom fell out of her stomach. “My dress really is ugly, isn’t it? Everyone’s staring.”
    V’s cheek touched hers as they danced. “All eyes are on you because you outshine everyone else.”
    I told you we’re pretty. The other girl is just jealous. She looks like someone tied a ribbon around a lump of fabric, the sprite assured her.
    As amusing and accurate as that image was, Noli re-mained unconvinced.
    The waltz became a polka. People changed partners. V held on to her tightly and she was grateful for it. She was in no mood to make nice while some old man danced with her out of pity so she wouldn’t be drapery on the ballroom walls, sitting with the chaperones and