Edward loathed balls. The endless chatter, the pretentious flattery, the clamour of guests-it all grated on him. Tonight, he regretted accepting the baron's invitation. The baron had been a surrogate father after his own had abandoned him, but the thought of spending an evening amidst society's shallow faces was nearly unbearable.As his carriage rolled to a stop, Edward's mind wandered back to the uncomfortable conversation with his solicitor.
"Is there no way out of the contract?" he had asked, struggling to keep his frustration in check.
"I'm afraid not, Your Grace," was the reply.
"There must be another way," Edward had insisted.
"If you both agree not to marry," Mark had suggested hesitantly, "that might work."
Edward's mind shifted back to the present as he alighted from the carriage and entered the grand hall of the Albright mansion.
The evening's activities continued around him-brilliantly adorned guests, a symphony of laughter and music, and an array of delectable meals.
The room was abuzz with ladies in exquisite gowns and gentlemen in elegant evening attire. Immediately, he felt the weight of numerous gazes. The ladies, eager to catch his attention, fluttered their fans and cast sidelong glances. Edward couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
Lord Richmond approached, his genial expression a stark contrast to Edward's brooding thoughts.
"Edward," Richmond greeted, grasping his hand firmly. "I'm delighted you could come."
"The pleasure is mine, Lord Richmond," Edward replied.
"Let me introduce you to everyone," Richmond said, leading him across the room. He led him through the throng of guests towards the centre of the room.
Edward was soon presented to Lady Alice, the baron's daughter.
"Good evening, Your Grace," Lady Alice said with a graceful curtsy. Her eyes were lowered modestly.
Edward, offered a courteous kiss to the back of her hand.
Alice, blushing slightly, managed to peek up at him through her lashes. Her cheeks were tinged with a rosy colour.
"How are you, Edward?" Lady Dorothy, the baroness, asked with a gentle smile.
"I am well, Lady Dorothy," Edward responded.
"I'm sorry about your father," she added sympathetically.
Edward nodded in acknowledgment, turning his attention back to Alice with a request for a dance. It seemed customary for him to do. The baron and baroness exchanged pleased glances. It was well-known that they had hoped for a match between their daughter and the Duke of Heartland. Every parent in the ton wished for that too, but between their own daughters.
"Look, Jane," Emily whispered, tapping Jane on the arm, "it's the Duke of Heartland."
Jane turned, surprised. "The Duke of Heartland? I thought he was dead."
"No, silly," Emily giggled, "the new duke, his son, Edward."
"I've never heard of him," Jane said.
"Oh, he went to Eton, the famous boarding school," Emily explained, tucking her curls behind her ear. "He returned upon his father's death to claim the title."
Jane nodded in understanding and stared at the duke.
As the music began, Edward extended his hand to Alice. She placed her hand in his, and they moved gracefully to the centre of the room. The dance floor was a sea of swirling colours as couples twirled and glided. The air was filled with the harmonious strains of a string quartet. Edward and Alice danced a waltz, their movements portraying grace.
Alice's gown, a rich sapphire blue, flowed with each movement. The contrast of her gown against Edward's dark attire created a striking appearance. They glided across the floor, their dance an embodiment of grace and refinement.
When the dance concluded, Edward bowed deeply to Alice, his eyes meeting hers with a polite, if somewhat distant, smile. Edward's departure from the dance floor was met with a wave of disappointment from the surrounding ladies.
The Duke of Heartland, with his striking presence, commanded the room. His dark, wavy hair was neatly styled, emphasising the chiselled angles of his face. His grey eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to hold a depth that captivated those who met his gaze. His high cheekbones and well-defined jawline only added to his regal appearance, making him the epitome of beauty.
As Edward walked through the throng of gentlemen and hopeful ladies, his tailored black evening coat clung to his tall, athletic frame. The coat's satin sheen caught the light with each step he took, accentuating his broad shoulders. His cravat was tied impeccably, adding to the overall elegance of his attire. Edward's behaviour was composed, yet there was an undeniable magnetism about him that made him the focus of the evening.
He was approached by Lady Catherine, who tried to engage him in conversation. Edward, however, maintained his polite distance, offering only a courteous nod before excusing himself. He was not one to indulge in idle chatter, and the evening's revelry did little to lift his spirits. The room buzzed with whispers and admiring glances directed at him. Despite the attention, Edward remained detached, his thoughts still clouded by the complexities of his situation.
Emily's voice jolted Jane from her reverie.
"I have something to tell you," she said, her voice low.
Jane turned to her sister, concern etched on her face. "What is it, Emily?"
Emily's gaze faltered as she spoke. "We're leaving for London permanently, Jane. I was going to write to you about it but decided against it, opting to tell you in person."
Jane's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Papa decided," Emily continued, "we depart tomorrow. I was instructed to inform you."
Jane's heart sank.
She nodded, trying to mask her sadness. "I understand."
Emily embraced her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Jane."
"I'll miss you all," Jane said, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. "Promise me you'll write."
"I promise," Emily replied.
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Of love and deceit
RandomA damaged duke. A misunderstood duchess. A marriage forged in the fires of obligation. When Jane Hadley weds the enigmatic Duke of Heartland, neither of them could foresee the shadows that their union would cast. Bound by duty rather than desire, th...