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Grace Wallflower


Violet covered her mouth, but giggles escaped. “You did not just burp in Charles Lancaster’s face.”
“She did,” Constance said, eyes wide. “I saw it, or rather heard it, myself.”
Grace turned around, hands shading her eyes. “I’m done for. Soon this story will travel the ballroom.”
“What if it does?” Violet asked.
“My mother will murder me.”
“No she won’t.”
“She will try to force a match on me. Same thing.”
“But you don’t need a husband,” Constance added. “You have the business.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t know father is training me.”
“She is going to find out eventually.”

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