First at Last (Updated Version)

Chapter Eight

Before I had even begun my search for Mother,she found me first. "There you are, Erika,"Mother's sharp voice reached me through the laughter and chatter of the partyguests.

"There you are, Erika," Mother's sharp voice reached me through the laughter and chatter of the party guests.

She walked toward me, scowling all the while, and my stomach knotted with dread. She knows. I tried to keep my face from showing my guild, though I did not think I succeeded.

Mother stopped before me, arms crossed, and looked down her nose at me. The look alone was enough to make me wilt. "Yes, Mother?"

"Where have you been all evening?" She asked, accusation in her voice.

"I was . . . dancing." I lied. "Didn't you see me?"

Mother shook her head. "There is no way you were dancing. I have not seen you all night, Erika."

I hesitated. "But I was." It was an effort not to wince. Even I recognized how feeble my lie sounded.

"And is it just a coincidence that Prince William was also missing?"

I swallowed and looked around the room for inspiration, waiting for an excuse to come to mind.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you," Mother hissed.

My eyes snapped to her face. "I did not know he was also missing—er, I mean—" Oh, shoot.

Just as expected, Mother latched onto the word also. "So, you did disappear."

"Fine," I relented. I was never going to win, anyway. "I went for a small walk, is that the excuse you were looking for?"

"And William?"

"Mother, I told you. We were not together."

She tilted her head, her hawk-like eyes watching me, searching. Again, I resisted the urge to look away. "Erika," she said, her voice holding a note of condescension. "You do know that we are currently arranging a marriage between Alice and the prince."

The words were like a slap to the face. They always were. I took a shuddering breath and squared my shoulders. "Yes, I am aware of that."

"Then you would be wise to listen to me, dear. He is going to marry Alice, not you. You would save yourself some heartache if you were to accept that now."

I wanted to fight her, to argue with her, to deny it and keep denying it, but I felt myself bending to her as I always did. As I always would. I looked away first.

She smiled and patted my arm. "That's better. Now, be a good dear and go dance with at least a few suitors before we leave."

My hands were shaking, my face burning with indignation.

"Ah, here we are," she said, smiling to someone off to the side.

I turned to see who she was looking at and found an attractive man walking toward us, beckoned by Mother.

"Erika, this is Lord Jeremiah de Clare. You two should share a dance." The smile plastered to her face was sweet and charming—and possibly the most superficial thing I had ever seen.

I looked at Lord de Clare with his bright eyes and gold hair. He smiled timidly at me. "Would you, er, care to dance?" He asked, holding his hand out to me.

No, I wanted to shout. No, I do not want to dance with you. But, just as Mother expected, I set down the book William had given to me and took the young lord's proffered hand. He led me between dancing couples until we were in the midst of them, one of them.