Oriana barely noticed when the next song began. Her hands were cold despite the warmth of the hall, and her eyes remained fixed on the far edge of the ballroom where Rhistel and Olivia had disappeared behind a sweeping crimson curtain.
"Quite the scene," a smooth voice drawled beside her.
She turned, startled. Evelyn's brother stood there, now without a dance partner, holding a glass of dark wine between his fingers like it was a weapon.
"Lady Oriana," he said, bowing his head in a courteous gesture that didn't quite reach his eyes. "A stunning bride-to-be, left alone at her own celebration. I must admit, I didn't expect to see her on your future husband's arm."
Oriana stiffened. "She is my sister. And Lord Rhistel is a gentleman. He was only helping her."
