Soon, another noble lady approached Leech. It was the one who had invited Bode to dance earlier.
Leech had danced the least of anyone. The ball had been going on for a long time, and most people had gone through at least five partners, yet he had only danced once.
She was beautiful in her own right, though her nose was a bit flat. She didn't have the Ivory Tower Miss's enviably small, palm-sized face, nor did she have eyes like the deep sea. Still, Leech mentally gave her a 90. The reason was simple: she was huge. A weighty, hourglass figure—an asset prominent enough to overshadow any minor flaws.
'If the lights were off, I'd give her a 120.'
His hand was already raised. The etiquette of the nobility was just so troublesome.
A gentleman should not embarrass a lady.
Nine parts etiquette, one part action. Appearances were everything. That was the nobility for you.
"My beautiful lady, may I have this dance?"
"Of course."
The two began to dance to the music.
