There was no graceful way out of it, she realized. Regardless of her wishes, it seemed she was going to have to dance with this sickly man. But oddly, he seemed less odious than when she first ran into him. She didn't want to run to the nearest wash basin to clean herself from his presence. Handsome -- he was probably handsome. He dressed well, if rather showily. But she was still very ill at ease with him.
Perhaps he didn't remind her of the man who killed his wife with his fists. No, no, now she was drawing parallels with him and a young lord she knew who got nearly half his young kitchen staff in trouble. Well -- that wouldn't be difficult for Beauty to avoid. All she needed to be sure about was that they remained under the lights in clear view of other people. She had no intention of going anywhere secluded or private with this man.
She really didn't even want to dance with him, although she very much enjoyed a dance with a good partner. Perhaps this was God's way of punishing her for getting caught up with the present she was given. Eying the ring on her finger with no small amount of trepidation, she finally managed to give the man a smile.
"My name is Honour Belleforte," she finally said. "People call me 'Beauty', most of the time. T.. Thank you for being so forgiving. I should pay more attention to where I walk."