June was definitely not a fan of masquerades. At this point in her life, she had bachelors she wished to avoid dancing with for any sort of reason, but it was difficult when they were hiding behind a mask. She wasn’t desperate for marriage, not yet at least because she still had a few more years before spinsterhood was upon her, which meant that she was still able to be pickier about who’s name was signed onto her dance card.

The music of this dance faded away, and June was happy to step back as quickly as she possibly could, offering a sugary sweet smile while glaring behind her own mask. His conversation had been terrible, his breath even worse, and his grip had been a little too tight – he probably had a feeling that the blonde would bolt the moment she was able. He wasn’t wrong. Juniper desperately needed a drink and a breath of fresh air before the next name on her dance card came up.

Of course she stepped back too quickly because she found herself stepping on a man’s foot, almost tripping over it. “Watch where you’re going!” June snapped before she could stop herself.

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Eamon Harper

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