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Once Benedict responded, Isadora placed her drink down on the nearest surface. A side table that had just enough room on it to fit her glass next to the gigantic arrangement of flowers that sat in a vase upon it. In the same moment, she was hooking her arm through his proffered one and ignoring the part of her that was still that young girl, just newly of age and terrified of what people may think. Instead, she resolved to enjoy every bit of this dance.<br/>
<br/>
The ballroom was not without its dancers or spectators, but the music was familiar, the steps second nature to Isadora despite having spent most of her balls partnerless. As a child, her father had often danced with her and her sister, and when her grandfather was around, he, too, would have pulled her into a short number or two. None of their dances had been formal, with both men only teaching them a few steps to some easier ones. The lessons themselves had come later in life and weren't nearly as filled with silly jokes and barely concealed laughter. It was amazing how societal rules had managed to crush the fun in things that should have inherently been an experience to enjoy. <br/>
<br/>
The only thing that had come a bit difficult to Isadora was conversation. Small talk seemed like the safest bet, given she and Benedict weren't close, but before she could speak, he was posing a question. It was one she certainly hadn't expected.<br/>
<br/>
Her lips parted in surprise, green eyes widening with them as she looked up into her partner's face. And for a horrific second, she wondered if she had been wrong about him; maybe he had just invited her to dance because he wanted to learn more about the scandal surrounding her. But then, she realized, his tone had been rather subdued without the typical hint of excitement she often detected in those that enjoyed drama. He was genuinely asking after her state of being. <br/>
<br/>
Her expression became softer as she considered her answer. The truth of the matter was, she had been utterly heartbroken when the man who had been courting her for the entirety of her second season turned around and married another. He had spoken of marriage to Isadora and even asked her grandfather for his blessing; all that had been left were the formalities, the question itself. This was not the only way William had wronged her, but she had, for the most part, made her peace with what she could. <br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to apologize," she said, a small smile touching her lips. "I thank you for your well wishes, and I have been doing well enough to return to London. I daresay that speaks for itself." She let out a short laugh. "Although, I will admit my absence from it was not just because of what had happened with Mr. Douglas. My mother had fallen ill shortly after, but she is doing much better now. I wouldn't have allowed my grandfather to convince me to join him this season if she wasn't." <br/>
<br/>
"And what about you? How are you faring..." Her eyes glanced around the room, already spotting a few debutantes with their eyes trained on Benedict, before returning to gaze up into his face. "...with all of this?" <br/>
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