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Natasha observed the gathering of eager, well-dressed young ladies and the mixture of interested and apathetic, equally costumed gentlemen. Marriage-minded parents skirted the room, undoubtedly making deals that would determine their children’s future happiness, or perhaps just the security of their family name and wealth. While she had neither mother nor father to claim her, her guardian Mr. Fury had been pressing her about the question of marriage in order to ensure her future security. Despite her headstrong nature, she knew that her gender had the unfortunate plight of carrying little agency in this society. She would have to find a husband.
“Miss Romanova, may I have this next dance?”
Much to her surprise, the man posing the question was none other than Clint Barton.