Beauty stopped dead in her tracks, dead in her apology. No, it was more than simply stopping -- Beauty froze. Her movement, her expression, her breath, everything. There was something terribly wrong with this man. He had been ill recently, certainly -- but there was an oiliness that chilled her to the marrow, as well. And then he smiled at her. A dangerous smile. It made her feel like a hunted creature.
Beauty had felt this way before -- and also at a ball. This time, it had been an earl in Paris, and she understood that the poor woman he took to wife not long after leering at Beauty herself lasted all of two months before dying of a mysterious fall. It wasn't fair of her to compare this man to that earl; after all, Beauty didn't know at all about this one's personality or how he treated women. But she felt unsafe around him, despite his charming smile.
The woman was not much better. Beautiful as diamonds, the lady seemed clothed first in grace, then in the fineries of rank, but she also carried a certain danger about her. It was the mask, surely. It was the mask, which made her feel haunted. Neither of the two had been anything but kind and considerate to her. And she had been the one who ran into them!
But she wanted nothing more than to run away from the both of them at once. Swallowing, she took a step back. "I'm so sorry to have interrupted," Beauty said as gracefully as possible. "I see I interrupted your own dance. Please, don't let me keep you..."