“Wait.”
Before the servants could even touch her, Lucinda finally spoke.
She smiled and looked at Eleanor on the stage calmly.
“Miss Z’s works aren’t just pretty, but each piece’s workmanship is very unique.
No matter how authentic the fake one looks like, the difference lies in the details.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at the other woman in confusion.
“What’re you trying to say?”
Lucinda still looked very dignified as she spoke, as though she hadn’t been humiliated just now in front of all these people.
“Miss Turner, if you insist that the one you’re wearing is authentic, do you dare to dance the ‘Lover’ with me?”
The “Lover” was the most difficult dance in tango. It showed every aspect of a woman-gentle, wild, or spoiled. The difficulty of this dance lay in matching the steps to the rhythm; once the dancer was distracted for even just a second, she’d no longer be able to catch up anymore.
Everyone was shell-shocked.
Was this woman out of her mind?
Who gave her the confidence to ask tonight’s protagonist for a dance battle?
Wasn’t she afraid she’d make a fool of herself?
Lucinda’s point was this-the fake dress wouldn’t survive a dance as intense as the Lover, because the quality wasn’t as good as the authentic one.
It would be an unprecedented scandal in front of so many people!
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However, to the guests who didn’t know better, if Lucinda was willing to make a fool of herself, who were they to say no to the great show?
On stage, Eleanor locked eyes with Lucinda. She was also confused.
How could Lucinda be so confident that the one she was wearing was real?
And when did Lucinda learn tango?
Tango was the dance of choice among the upper class, and Eleanor had just learnt it recently.
“Lover” was way too difficult for her, and she could barely remember all the steps.
What if Lucinda danced better than her?!
Eleanor bit her lip uneasily.