"I KNOW you do not have many friends here in Coulway."

Angela turned to Sabrina and met the woman's sapphire eyes and found no trace of judgement. There was nothing but pure curiosity and amusement in their depths. "No, you are wrong," she said, lifting her chin in defiance.

"I am?"

"I only have one."

Sabrina rapidly blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open. "Then how do you suppose you can show me around this season?"

"That is why my brother has graciously offered his help. He can take care of the social part. I will teach you how to be a lady."

However, Jonathan was engaged in what appeared to be a fun conversation with his friends. Half an hour ago, he left their side to find himself a glass of wine. The glass in his hand had been refilled twice now, and he had not yet found his way back. After Sabrina secured dance partners, he must have thought it was enough.

Stark's sister looked around the ballroom. "Very well, if you cannot find us friends, then perhaps we should make them. I am not saying your company is boring, but it would be nice to have variety."

"I would rather we let my brother do the honor. Your dance card is full. That should be enough for tonight."

"Nonsense! A dance is a dance—a partnership that lasts as long as the music sheet. It is far from having friends. We should at least try. That's what my brother wants and I'm keen on pleasing him so he would allow me a few liberties."

Angela cleared her throat and moistened her lips, eyes darting everywhere. She would rather find a good corner.

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "Are you anxious, my lady?"

"You may call me Angela. I can tell that you struggle with honorifics. And no, I am not anxious about making friends." She could never get away with her pride, even in the presence of this woman.

To her surprise, Sabrina laughed, grabbing the attention of a few guests nearby. Angela had to force a smile on her lips so as the lady would not appear crazy, but she could not really point out the source of Sabrina's amusement.

"You differ greatly from most women in your station and I quite appreciate that, Angela."

Does she have a motive by telling me this? Is she keen on pleasing me as well so she can have more liberties as she would put it? If so, what does she want?

"Now, as I was saying, making friends will not be a problem. I can take care of that. I know that you and my brother have entered an agreement, otherwise you would not have agreed to sponsor me."

She blinked. "I do not understand what you mean. I took you in because your brother and I—"

"You and my brother can never be friends. Trust me, one look and I can very well tell." Sabrina scanned the ballroom and leaned closer conspiratorially. "Now, I know he means well, and that you are only doing this so you can benefit from whatever service he has offered you. Can I ask what service you expect him to fulfill? Are you looking for a potential match?"

"No, and no."

Sabrina blinked at her in confusion.

"I mean no, I cannot tell you what it is about. And no, I am not looking for a match for myself."

"Then it is for someone else. Your brother, Jonathan?"

"No."

Sabrina pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Then understanding dawned on the woman's face. "Ah, then it must be for the other brother." She laughed when Angela only blinked at her. "You are very easy to read."

Amused by the woman's utter confidence in her wrong deduction, Angela softly scoffed. This woman was a rare kind. No one had ever deemed Angela easy.

Sabrina shrugged, understanding Angela's unspoken question. "I have dealt with different people during my travels. Reading them has become an instinct."

Suddenly curious, Angela wanted to ask the woman about her travels, but Sabrina had something else in mind. She stepped closer to Angela.

"I am dying to explore Coulway, but I have no friends Gerard can trust. Do you think you can spare more time to invite me once in a while? I am desperate to go to the Season Fair and—"

"Yes," Angela cut in. "We can go to the Season Fair together. Every day, if you wish it. I will bring my maid as our chaperone." Angela stepped closer to Sabrina to mumble, "But we cannot tell our brothers about our trips to the fair."

"Why?"

Angela looked away just in time to see Barnes sauntering toward them. "Jonathan can be quite overprotective," she lied.

Sabrina hooked her arm around hers, making her stiffen. No one had dared touch her with this level of familiarity before, and she had always appreciated that. But she let this one slide just once, thinking she could endure a few minutes of having someone cling to her. She could be patient with discomfort, she added to herself.

"Do you have a secret plan during the Season Fair?" Sabrina asked in a hushed voice that sounded like an excited squeal.

"Yes." There was no point in trying to hide it from someone who also had suspicious plans of their own. "And what about you? What is your mission for the Season Fair?"

"Mission?"

"I mean, what secret plans do you have during the Season Fair?"

"Oh, no, I have nothing illicit in mind. I simply want to go around. I heard there will be a circus and that it is quite a famous one."

"The Ramsbury Circus," she replied. Looking over her shoulder, she caught Lord Barnes' determined gaze. The music had just ended, and another one was coming. She stiffly turned away and murmured under her breath, "We should walk around."

Sabrina looked over her shoulder and blinked. "Are you by any chance avoiding a gentleman?"

"A lord, yes."

Sabrina replied, pulling her to the right, "Why?"

"I dislike him."

The woman nodded, her face tight. "Then we have a problem. Would you like to return to your brother—"

"No."

Sabrina sighed. "Why?"

Angela shook her head. "Nothing. I'm only afraid he will deal with Lord Barnes differently."

"Different how?"

"Swords and fists."

"But how can you tell he will not deal with it like a gentleman?"

"Because I know my brother."

Sabrina turned and frowned at her. "You're afraid he will find out the reasons he will go for swords and fists."

Angela's jaw tightened.

It was fortunate that Sabrina was intuitive and did not press further. The woman looked over her shoulder and walked faster. "My brother is also making his way toward us. He is probably curious why I stopped injuring more feet."

Angela looked, and indeed, Stark was making his way toward them. But his eyes were not on them—they were on Barnes.

"Who would have thought this ball will be so thrilling?" Sabrina murmured. "In a battlefield of gowns and etiquette, women soldiers need comrades."

"What do you mean?"

"Friends, Angela, friends! Ones with fans are much preferred. Great weapons, they are."

The suggestion brought as much feeling of dread as the thought of dancing with Barnes did. If she were to find friends, she may need a moment to prepare. "We can do that later once—"

Her breath was snatched out of her when Sabrina suddenly tugged her arm and dragged her to a corner where a group of women sat close together. "Oh, please forgive us, but we are being stalked," Sabrina said to the group in her cheerful voice, interrupting a conversation.

The four women stared at her blankly. Angela was ready to flee, but Sabrina stepped closer, pulling her along. And then she leaned down and whispered, "We need help."

The four ladies, two of them with black hair, one red, and the other blonde, were now staring at Sabrina with interest.

The two black and curly-haired women, one of them wearing a green chignon around her head, leaned to each side of Sabrina to look behind her. The woman with the red hair was staring straight at Angela, her gaze knowing and her lips curling with a secret smile. The blonde was looking utterly bored.

"They are behind us, are they?" Sabrina asked the two black-haired ladies. They nodded their heads simultaneously.

Angela stole a look and blinked in surprise to find that Stark had blocked Barnes' path and engaged the baffled man in a conversation.

"One with black hair?" The two women's naturally curly strands sprang up and down when they gave a vigorous nod. "And one with dark blond hair," added one of them in what seemed like a dreamy sigh, her brown globes glimmering with interest.

"Bristled jaw," said the other, tilting her head with a small smile.

"Dangerously handsome," the woman with the green chignon willingly finished.

The one on the right frowned, unsure, scrutinizing Stark and Barnes and asked, "Which one?"

"The blond, of course!" hissed the woman beside her.

Angela stole another glance at Stark and Barnes, and this time she caught his gaze. Stark's, not Barnes'. He gave her a slight nod as if telling her it was fine and she could be at ease. A part of her disliked his unwarranted need to protect her, and another was fighting a smile which she suppressed because Stark should not see her as a princess in distress because she was not.

"Would you like to sit with us?" The soft voice came from the ginger-head lady. Before Angela or Sabrina could utter a reply, the women stood and spared two chairs for them.

"We apologize for this, but I believe my brother is quite persistent tonight, introducing us to his friends and all," Sabrina said in a hushed, rushed tone. "The other man, well... we do not know him. Unimportant but equally dangerous."

"As men always are," droned the blonde woman sitting beside the redhead.

As she stiffly settled in her seat, Angela saw Stark lead Barnes away and the two of them disappeared amongst the crowd.

Sabrina smiled at the four ladies who were looking at them with interest. An awkward stillness reigned for a moment now that danger had walked away.

The blonde woman did not seem interested, but she was still staring, perhaps because it was the only thing to do.

"Oh, forgive us!" Sabrina laughingly said, breaking the awkward silence, reaching for Angela's hand. "Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Miss Sabrina Spark and this is my friend and sponsor this season, Lady Angela Worthington."

"Good evening," was all Angela could muster as she lifted her chin and studied each woman gaping at her and Sabrina in different states of surprise, curiosity, and excitement. These women were wallflowers. The blonde was perhaps one because she had very little interest in anything as apparent in her demeanor; the two black-haired girls seemed too eager, a dangerous formula for any eligible gentleman; the redhead, on the other hand, was striking and appeared to be soft-spoken enough and carried herself in a practiced manner expected of a titled lady, but there was something off about her.

She should not be sitting among wallflowers, Angela thought, her gaze lingering on the redhead. She is here because she likes the company of the three.

"You are the sister of the Earl of Hargrave," the girl with the green chignon said with awe before she turned to Sabrina to whisper, "and the dark blond was Mr Stark? You own Stark's!"

"No, I do not. My brother does," Sabrina corrected.

"My name is Lady Leah Crew," the redhead softly said, stretching her full lips with a smile. Her light green eyes traveled between Angela and Sabrina before settling back on Angela. "I know of your brother, Lady Angela, and I have heard about you as well."

"Everyone heard of at least one Worthington," said the girl with the green chignon. "I am Grace Blessing and this is my younger sister, Charlotte."

Charlotte motioned her hand to the blonde woman. "And this is our friend, Abigail Smith."

Angela quietly assessed the ladies. She did not know Abigail Smith, but considering she was at the ball, her father must have enough connections. She was not also familiar with the two siblings, but she had heard of the Blessings as amongst the oldest and richest untitled families in Sutherland. As to Leah Crew, she knew she was the daughter of the Earl of Kerndall, who was cousin to the king.

But is she worthy? Or is Spencer worthy?

There were hundreds of girls who were taught to be prim and proper, but they lacked substance. Angela hoped Leah would prove to be one of the better few so that she did not have to suffer the tedious task of searching further.

Sabrina was fast to take the lead in the group, advancing rapport by asking the ladies about their curly hair, dresses, fans, gloves—everything else that would have never entered Angela's thoughts.

While the women continued their conversation, and while Angela listened half-heartedly, she caught sight of Spencer from the corner of her eye and the sudden urge to escape came over her before she realized she was safe where she was. Her gaze swung to Leah Crew who was quietly listening to Sabrina talk about her torn stockings yesterday, her thoughts taking rapid turns, like the silly game children played where they guessed the face of the cards before randomly flipping them to find out if they were right.

She swallowed hard when she saw Spencer and Stark talking with Jonathan.

She could tell Stark that they could start tonight.

Her eyes went back to Leah.

No, she could not do it tonight.

It was too early, and Spencer would realize what she was up to. She had never made friends before, much less introduce anyone to him.

"Yes, of course, we would love to join!" Angela's brain registered Sabrina's cheerful voice first before her exact words made sense. "Angela will be happy to go with me."

She stiffened. Go where? She had not been listening. She thought she was, but she must have gotten lost somewhere.

Fortunately for her, Sabrina could indeed read her easily. The woman grabbed her hand and said, "Their book club, Shelf Absorbed."

The guilt was instant after the unstoppable snort. Five pair of eyes watched her with curiosity. It was too late to save face. "Forgive me, but the name of your club sounds tacky." A tense silence followed, and she belatedly added, "But do not let my opinion deter you. My brother, as well as my father, will agree that I have terrible taste which does not complement my tactless way with words."

She waited for them to react, her jaw taut, her stomach clenching. Was she trying hard not to be detested by these women? Her, Angela Worthington, trying to win someone's favor? The heavens must have opened a gate in hell.

But the ladies laughed.

Are they mocking?

But their laughter seemed genuine.

Then she must have said the right thing? Good.

"I told you many times," Abigail wryly said to her friends. "It is tacky. And it conveniently sends potential members scurrying away."

"Do not mind Abigail," said Charlotte, smiling at Sabrina and Angela. "She enjoys watching other ladies running away from us."

"It is their loss to be missing your marvelous company. We would love to join you this Saturday." Sabrina turned to Angela with excitement. "I think we have found ourselves good friends, Angela."

Angela did not comment. Stark's voice rang in her head.

Because that is what she does. She makes everyone her friend.

Now Sabrina had found them potential friends. But it was yet to be determined if they would prove to be good ones.

*****

A long moment later, Gerard found Angela in one corridor leading to the gaming rooms.

"Where are you going?" he asked, running up to her.

"I'm searching for my brother."

"Why are you and my sister spending time with those wallflowers?"

She stopped walking and faced him. "I told you I can take care of myself where Barnes is concerned."

He blinked. "I did what I did earlier, my lady, because I was concerned for my sister." He smiled at her when she frowned. "I was afraid Sabrina will steal Barnes' attention and we both know how his hands behave."

She lifted her chin and looked at him. "And there is a problem with wallflowers?" she asked, returning to his question.

He blinked. "A few, yes."

"For a man with your ambition, yes. But for Sabrina and I, we both believe we have found good company."

He followed her when she turned and resumed her search. "And what is your definition of a good company, my lady?"

She stopped outside a door and peered inside. She immediately closed it, but not fast enough that a puff of cigar smoke escaped into the corridor. He waited for her reply, but Gerard realized she was deliberately ignoring him. When she opened another door that he knew led to an empty room, he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. Closing the door behind them, the room was suddenly dark.

She pushed him away and reached for the handle, but he was fast to pull her back toward him. "I hate it the most when I am being ignored."

"Then perhaps it is time you learn how to deal with it. Would you like to meet our new friends? Wallflowers can teach you everything there is to know about being ignored."

He gritted his teeth. "I see your point. I beseech forgiveness for how I spoke about your friends."

"Wallflowers."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"How you spoke about wallflowers," she corrected.

"Very well. Forgive me if I offended the entire wallflower community, my lady."

"I will if you let me leave this room now."

"I will if you answer my question," he said, stepping closer. He could barely see her. There was very little light coming through the drawn curtains of the room.

"Dare not touch me or I will scream." Her voice was stern, but he heard it shake at the last word.

He lifted his hands. "I only want an answer, my lady."

"About my definition of a good company?" she asked. He nodded. Then she scoffed. "Well, definitely not this one," she replied, looking him up and down. "Fret not, Mr Stark. Your sister and I are in good company. We are now members of a book club called Shelf Absorbed. And if it will interest you, one of those wallflowers is a daughter of an earl."

That captured his interest. He dropped his hands. "Which one?"

"I was only asked to answer your first question," she replied, pushing him away. "I did not promise more."

He frowned as she walked to the door as if in a hurry to escape him. He did not mean anything when he pulled her inside the room, but she was treating him as if he was a threat.

"You were not bothered to have a walk with a stranger around a dark garden," he commented.

Her hand tightened around the handle. "In the garden, you gave me a chance to escape."

That made him freeze.

"You see, Mr Stark, I escape the likes of Lord Barnes because I hate to be placed in a state such as a dance where I cannot exercise control. You dragging me inside this room was just another version of a waltz with Barnes. While you may think women find it appealing and romantic to be brusquely dragged into dark rooms by a handsome man, Mr Stark, you are wrong to think that all of us do."

In no time, Gerard found himself alone in the room, stupefied. Angela Worthington had just said he was handsome while conveying her dislike for him.

What he did was indeed uncalled for. He should not have done it.

He was reminded of London again, where he did things confidently and recklessly. He had been careful since he came to Sutherland.

Until this woman.

He did not like that he could lose control whenever she was around.

Danger, his mind warned, adding, and an enchanting one at that.