Rexanne Becnel by The Troublemaker

fourteen-year-old like Adrian would not be dancing like this among his elders.
    He was dancing, though, and he was quite good at it. When she remarked as much, he grinned. “My mum insisted. Says all the girls love dancin’. Do you?”
    “Indeed I do. Is your mother not coming to the dance?” she inquired, for she’d not yet spied the unpleasant Estelle.
    “She’ll be here eventually,” he retorted, his smile fading.
    Now, what did that somber look signify? Sarah wondered as she did her portion of the movement. Didn’t he want his mother here?
    A half hour later she had her answer. For Estelle arrived on the arm of a tall, thick-waisted brute of a fellow. He was properly dressed, with his hair slicked down, but he had a rough look about him. As for Estelle, she was outfitted in a brilliant blue satin gown that displayed a vast amount of her overly developed chest.
    Sarah couldn’t help but stare, for the woman’s bosom looked very near to popping free of the straining fabric. Everyone else seemed to anticipate the very same event, for every male eye and most of the female ones too fastened on those remarkable breasts.
    For a moment Sarah was annoyed with herself for choosing a rather ordinary gown for her first outing in Kelso society. She hadn’t wanted to flaunt herself, neither her wealth nor her knowledge of current town style. It seemed, however, that she’d succeeded a little too well. When compared to Estelle’s eye-popping ensemble, her own modestly cut summer-green gown looked so sweet as to be almost sickening.
    Her brow creased in a faint frown. Really, but that woman had no shame.
    Then Sarah’s eyes found Adrian standing near one of the windows, and she recognized at once the larger problem that Estelle’s appearance created. Adrian was old enough to understand exactly what all the other men thought when they gawked at his mother that way. He was old enough to understand about lust, and if his scowl was any indication, he didn’t like it at all.
    Excusing herself from the company of Mrs. Dinkerson and the tiresome Mrs. Liston, she threaded her way through the crowd, angling toward Adrian. Though she did not comprehend all the undercurrents of the situation, she was certain that Adrian needed an ally.
    But he frowned when he spied her, and like the moody boy he still was, he slipped out through the open window and disappeared into the lavender night. She stared after him in consternation, but when a silky, malicious voice intruded on her thoughts, Sarah’s consternation turned to dislike. Estelle.
    “I should think he’s a mite young for the likes of you, Miss Palmer. No matter that my boy is a handsome lad, he’s still no match for a fast town trick like yourself.”
    As Sarah turned to face the other woman, outwardly she appeared composed. But inside she was seething. “Nor is he any match for a selfish mother who thinks nothing of embarrassing him in front of everyone he knows.” She stared pointedly at Estelle’s thrusting bosom. “Couldn’t you cover those things, if only for his sake?”
    For a moment Estelle appeared to be struck dumb. Clearly she had not expected to get just as good as she gave. But when she recovered, it was equally clear that her dislike for Sarah had jelled into something much colder.
    “William likes them,” she boasted, clasping the arm of her silent companion. “As does every other male in the room.”
    “Yes. My point precisely. Every man except the one who should matter the most.” And with that Sarah glided away, holding her head as high as if she were the queen. But her aplomb was superficial, for she’d never wanted so much to claw another woman’s eyes out!
    From that unpleasant confrontation the evening slid steadily downhill. While she was finally partnering Mr. Goodson, she spied Marshall MacDougal standing in the foyer. She nearly tripped and fell, and afterward had to concentrate mightily to follow the steps of the dance. Though she