Chapter 8 You Play A Very Dangerous Game

• Julia was at Lady Westmond's ball, scowling. It seemed to be all she did lately. However, the source of her present agony was standing right next to her: her mother. They were by the refreshment table, and all she could do was eye the various assorted foods hungrily while her mother tried to detain the Duke of Finchfort.
• True to her mother's words, she had paraded her among all the eligible bachelors, introducing her to every single one of them. If she wasn't well acquainted with any of them, Ophelia always managed to find someone who would introduce them. She always went like, "Lord Finchfort!" in a high-pitched voice, just like she was doing now. "I don't believe you have had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, Lady Julia Cavendish," Ophelia said, eyeing the duke who looked as if he was about to run out on them any minute.
• Julia cowered her head in shame and willed herself not to listen, but alas, she couldn't cut off her ears. As much as she buried her head down not wanting to listen, she could still hear her mother. "Isn't she lovely? My pride and joy, so even-tempered. An accomplished watercolorist," Ophelia said, the lie rolling off her tongue smoothly.