Philip turned toward her, his expression polite but distant. While he always appreciated Charlotte's vivacity, there was an unspoken tension between them. Charlotte's occasional meanness toward his sister had never sat well with him, but he was the gentleman, always. Despite this, his heart had already been captured elsewhere. Lady Sophia Marlow, the lovely Earl's daughter, was also making her debut this evening, and Philip had promised her this dance. He smiled kindly, but regret tinged his voice. "I'm most sorry, Lady Charlotte. I've already promised this dance to Lady Sophia Marlow."

Charlotte's smile faltered but quickly returned with practiced poise. Sophia Marlow, of course. The sweet, dainty girl with the fair skin and soft curls. Charlotte had always found her a little too perfect—too gentle, too happy. The kind of woman who didn't understand the subtle intricacies of society's unspoken rules. The kind who, as it turned out, had caught Philip's eye.

Charlotte straightened her back, forcing a smile that was all sweetness with a hint of steel beneath. "Ah, of course," she said. "Perhaps another time."

As she turned to leave, Charlotte's sharp gaze landed on Lady Sophia herself—eight and ten, with brown hair and blue eyes, her dainty features framed by an elegant gown. Sophia's fair skin gleamed in the light as she smiled up at Philip, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction at securing his attention for this dance. Charlotte's lips tightened, her thoughts cold and calculating.

Charlotte, however, knew deep down that this was just one dance. Sophia may have him for now, Charlotte thought, but Philip knows where his future lies. And it would certainly not be with an Earl's daughter.