Thorne was also under certain obligation to show up to this blasted event thanks to his father's influence. He knew that he had to be careful in who he chose to dance with. Were the Carringtons still in mourning? Surly not. He hoped so even still, for they were an annoying lot. Why, the middle daughter was a clingy and overbearing young miss and he had wanted nothing to do with her. He'd yet to send the invitation to the chit, but now he couldn't help but wonder who of the Carringtons would show their wretched faces in such a party. He looked for a girl to dance with before someone could spot him and foist conversation upon him.

He turned to go get lemonade, and there she was. His eyes widened at the sight of her in such a beautiful gown. It suited her, the green brought out the blue in her eyes a bit more. He gave a gallant bow and then took her hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. "Enchanted, my lady," he murmured. "May I have the first dance with you?"

"I told you I may come to surprise you. I hope it is a pleasant one." Nettie said, smiling huge at his reaction. He was such a wonderful man to her. She allowed him to kiss her hand and gave a small nod. "I wouldn't give my first dance to any other." She said and gave him a small curtsy in reply. "You look wonderful tonight. And I already thought you couldn't be handsomer." She laughed delicately.

The kids were fast asleep at home, and he was dressed to the nines. His suit was sharp and a dark eye catching blue. He wore a dazzling ruby and diamond encrusted tie pin to show off but not in a loud way. With a smile, the man slipped into the ball after paying his way. He had wanted to show off with his name on the wall, but he wouldn't have much money if he wasted it on such things. With a glass of what he'd hoped was champagne but perhaps they'd cheapened out. He'd looked around the ballroom but hadn't seen a face yet he recognized or cared to speak to. So he decided to waste a little time looking at the artwork on display. He could admire a good piece. He hoped by the time he finished his look around, the party would be a little more lively and he could find someone to waste his evening on.

He took Nettie's hand and led her to the dance floor where he took her into his arms with a graceful movement. "The reason I love dance so much is because it involves math. Is that bad of me to say?" he chuckled as he drew her into the current dance. "You look stunning tonight," he murmured, his head tilting to the side a little.

Nettie was more than happy to join him on the dance floor. She took his hand and waist and began to dance with him. While Nettie maybe hadn't met many men before, she knew how to dance. She looked up at Maxim, "why on earth would that be bad to say? I will admit I've never even considered math with dance but I can't say I don't see it if I look. And when you love something, it's easy to notice it anywhere possible. Right?"

She blushed at the compliment and moved with him gracefully. "Ah, thank you. I know you only asked me if I were coming so, I thought if I worked hard to dress my nicest, maybe you would notice and dance with me." She said feeling a bit sheepish.

Cathy had been faint for days, but no illness could keep her away from the Regatta Angel Ball. After all, at this time of year, there was high society from all over the country in Whitby and it significantly increased her chances of finding a suitable man. Oh, it wasn't London - her parents had suggested taking her there, but the London season would have been far too embarrassing for her, given that she had old school friends down there who had been presented at court! - but it was the best opportunity she had encountered since she had returned from school.

She was dressed in a soft pink silk dress with the extremely puffy sleeves that some of her ladies magazines informed her where fashionable in all the right cities. They accentuated her disturbingly narrow waste and she liked that effect. She had been working on her hair since last night, and now it was glossy and pulled back in a half bun from which perfect golden ringlets flowed down to her neck. Her jewelry was elegant but simple, so as not to draw attention away from her feminine form, her angelic hair and her face.

Her face... Oh she did look pale, and not the kind of pale she wanted. But she had been able to powder the worst over. The dark circles under her eyes were barely visible now, and she had managed to created a sweet pink blush on her cheeks.

She stood by the wall of the central room, watching couples dance and waiting to be asked. She watched her brother Maxim and a pretty young lady dance. Who was that?

A man brooding in a most unsexy way stepped up to Cathy and her disturbingly narrow waist. He wondered if he could count the vertebrae through her corset. She was alone. Vulnerable. Perfect.

“Dance with me,” he demanded, extending his hand to her.

Catherine was standing alone, but she was hardly on her own, and far from vulnerable. Her mother was talking to a guest across the floor, keeping a sharp eye on her daughter to make sure she only danced with suitable men.

Catherine did not need to see her mother's shake of the head to make up her mind that this fellow was highly unsuitable. The entitled command from a practical stranger offended her. Wasn't he one of those Carringtons? Dancing with one of them was be social suicide.

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him with a polite but cheerless smile. "I'm sorry. Have we been acquainted?"

He smiled warmly at Nettie and looked into her eyes while they danced, not missing a beat. He was an excellent dancer with good form and a nice frame, and his hope was that it swept her off her feet. God, was this what his school mates were talking about? Being smitten with someone? He certainly felt smitten with her. "Nettie, I mean it. You're stunning. I am glad you came. It certainly made the night better for me." He paused when there were certain moves in the dance, and then swept her into a twirl and back, all while smiling. He couldn't help it around her, she made him giddy like a shoolboy.