For all her meticulous planning, Lavinia Somers had not accounted for the insidious power of the ton’s rumor mill. Nor had she considered how easily an innocent exchange could snowball into whispered scandal.

The soirée at Worthing House had been a grand affair, all glittering chandeliers and polished floors. It had been meant to showcase eligible young ladies, bolster alliances, and, most importantly, provide Lavinia an opportunity to silently observe. Yet, by the time the evening ended, it was her name—and not that of a debutante—that hung on the lips of London’s finest.

---

An Unfortunate Dance

The trouble had begun in the grand ballroom, where Lord Percy Aldridge—her current tormentor and client—had dragged her into an ill-advised waltz.

“This is entirely unnecessary,” Lavinia had hissed as Percy steered her onto the dance floor.

“On the contrary,” he had replied with a rakish grin, “it’s the perfect opportunity to display your work. Everyone here must see I can waltz without trampling my partner’s toes. Or yours, for that matter.”

“I’m not concerned about my toes, my lord,” Lavinia said, her voice tight. “I’m concerned about my reputation.”

Percy chuckled, leaning closer as the violins swelled. “Surely your reputation can survive a single dance.”

But Lavinia wasn’t so certain. The moment they began to move, she felt the weight of a hundred eyes upon them. The ton was an unforgiving audience, and it would take only the slightest misstep—literal or figurative—to set tongues wagging.

Percy, of course, seemed oblivious to the scrutiny. He led her through the steps with surprising grace, his hand firm at her waist and his gaze locked on hers.

“You’re staring,” Lavinia muttered.

“I’m admiring,” he countered. “It’s quite a feat to keep your composure with so many vultures circling.”

Lavinia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help feeling a flicker of admiration for his confidence. Or was it recklessness? She wasn’t sure.

As the dance ended, Percy spun her into a final flourish, his hand lingering just a moment too long on hers. The applause was polite, but the murmurs began immediately.

---

The Gossip Spreads

By the next morning, the whispers had reached Lady Aldridge’s ears.

“You danced with him?” Lady Aldridge exclaimed over breakfast, her teacup rattling against its saucer.

“I was coerced,” Lavinia replied, struggling to maintain her composure. “He claimed it was necessary for his training.”

“And now half of London thinks you’re angling to be his bride,” Lady Aldridge said, her tone both exasperated and amused. “You should know better than to give the ton ammunition.”

Lavinia pinched the bridge of her nose. “It was one dance. Surely they won’t make a scandal out of it.”

Lady Aldridge gave her a pitying look. “My dear, the ton could make a scandal out of a misplaced bonnet.”

---

Damage Control at White’s

Percy, of course, found the situation endlessly amusing. When Lavinia confronted him at White’s later that day, he was lounging in a leather armchair, a brandy in hand and an infuriating smirk on his lips.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” Lavinia said, her voice low but sharp. “Do you realize what they’re saying about us?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “That we make a rather dashing couple?”

“That I’ve ensnared you in some sordid scheme,” Lavinia snapped. “Apparently, my only goal in life is to marry into your title and fortune.”

“Ah,” Percy said, setting down his glass. “And here I thought they’d be more creative.”

Lavinia glared at him. “This isn’t a joke, Percy. If this nonsense continues, it could ruin everything. Your reputation. My career.”

Percy leaned forward, his expression suddenly serious. “Then let’s put an end to it.”

“How?” Lavinia demanded.

“By giving them something else to talk about.”

---

A Bold Move

That evening, Percy and Lavinia attended another ball, this time at Lady Fairfax’s townhouse. The plan was simple: Percy would dance with as many young ladies as possible, demonstrating his newfound refinement, while Lavinia would keep to the sidelines, far removed from his orbit.

It should have worked.

But as Lavinia stood by the refreshment table, sipping her lemonade, she couldn’t ignore the way her gaze kept drifting toward Percy. He moved with surprising ease, his steps confident and precise, his charm as effortless as ever.

And then it happened.

Percy, mid-dance with the Duchess of Lennox’s niece, glanced toward Lavinia and winked. It was a fleeting moment, barely noticeable, but it sent a ripple through the crowd. By the time Lavinia realized what had happened, the whispers had already begun.

---

Lavinia’s Thoughts

Later that night, as Lavinia sat alone in her rented rooms, she tried to make sense of what was happening.

Her partnership with Percy had always been a means to an end. He needed a wife; she needed a success story. It was straightforward, transactional.

So why did she feel such a strange mix of irritation and exhilaration every time he smiled at her? Why did his teasing remarks linger in her mind long after they were spoken?

She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. Percy Aldridge was a complication she couldn’t afford. The ton was watching, waiting for her to slip, and she couldn’t let her emotions cloud her judgment.

But even as she told herself this, she couldn’t help remembering the warmth of his hand on hers, the glint in his eye as he’d led her across the dance floor.

And, for the first time, she wondered if perhaps Percy Aldridge was more dangerous than she’d realized—not to her reputation, but to her heart, A Most Unfortunate Scandal