As Peitho curtsied, Lottie watched but did not follow suit. She'd already made her polite overtures, and rather than being nice, the women had been judgmental. And Philotes knew that she all but oozed sweetness and affection, because she was friendship. If they were like this with her, what were they like to some poor mortal girl that had no connections or beauty to recommend her? What were they like to those that would be desperate for a bit of help from someone of their stature?
Philotes knew that it wasn't really their fault. They did what they thought was best in their environment. But the society that created them was flawed if it made the kind of situation where they felt competition and position were more important than being a nice person. It made her a bit cranky not with the older women in front of them, but with the entire assemblage. Everybody in the building. Except Peitho.
When her friend stood straight again, looking like the most perfect female ever created, Philotes wrapped one arm around her trim waist. This was definitely overly familiar in public, there was nothing at all subtle about it. Lottie was no longer playing by their rules, she was going to make her own. “You know, I have a free space on my dance card and the next dance is the waltz. Would you like to dance with me, dearest?”
There was a sound of sharply inhaled breath. It was not a true gasp, but the patronesses were not hiding their disapproval. It was one thing for girls to partner each other in the school room so they could learn the dances when there were no other options. But to do so in a public place? In Almack's? It simply wasn't done. But Lottie was going to do it anyway.
Without looking again at either lady, keeping her eyes on her friend, Friendship pleaded, “Oh please say you will. No one moves as beautifully with me as you do.”