Of love and deceit

Chapter Twenty

The grand ballroom of the Hadley estate was a spectacle to behold. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden light over the sea of elegantly dressed guests, their laughter and chatter melding into a symphony of refined socialising. The walls were adorned with exquisite tapestries, while the marble floors gleamed beneath the weight of countless polished shoes. The air was heavy with the fragrance of fresh flowers and the subtle, enticing aroma of fine cuisine.

Jane stood near the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest as she glanced about the room. Her gown was a magnificent-a flowing dress of soft, blue silk that complimented her eyes and accentuated her delicate features.

The bodice was adorned with lace, and her hair was deftly arranged with pearl pins, cascading in gentle waves down her back. Despite the beauty of her attire, she felt like an outsider, the attention of the crowd almost too much to bear.

As the guests danced, Jane's gaze frequently drifted to the duke. Edward, in his dark, impeccably tailored suit, looked handsome. His sharp features were softened only slightly by the dim light, but there was an undeniable aura of aloofness about him.

He moved through the crowd with a detached grace, his interactions were polite but distant. Jane felt a shiver run down her spine every time their eyes met-an infrequent occurrence, but one that left her with an unsettling mix of anticipation and dread.

The moment Jane had most dreaded arrived with the announcement of their first dance. The orchestra struck up a waltz, its melody rich and evocative, filling the room with an intoxicating rhythm. Edward approached Jane with a formal bow, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. She extended her hand, and he took it, his fingers brushing against hers with a touch that was both startlingly intimate and cold.

As they glided onto the dance floor, the world around them seemed to blur into a haze of muted colours and sounds. Jane felt the eyes of the ton upon them, the weight of their expectations almost unbearable. Edward's hand settled at the small of her back, and Jane could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of her gown. Her heart raced as they began to move in time with the music, their bodies close but their expressions remote.

Every step was a reminder of the chasm between them-his touch was firm, but there was no tenderness in his movements. The way he held her, while proper and correct, lacked the warmth Jane had once dreamt of. His breath, warm and steady against her neck, sent a shiver down her spine. She tried to focus on the music, on the dance, but her thoughts kept straying back to her cold partner.

As the dance drew to a close, Edward's gaze flicked briefly to Jane's face. For a moment, there was a flicker of something-perhaps a trace of curiosity or amusement. Jane could not decipher it, but the intensity of his stare made her cheeks flush with warmth. The dance ended with a graceful bow, and Edward's hand slipped away from her back, leaving Jane with a lingering sense of emptiness.

After the dance, Jane retreated to a quieter corner of the room, seeking solace from the overwhelming crowd. Her father soon joined her, his presence a welcome comfort amid the sea of unfamiliar faces.

Lord Hadley's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter, his expression one of genuine pride and concern.

"Ah, my dear," Lord Hadley responded warmly. "You look lovely today."

"Thank you, father," Jane said, her smile growing a little more genuine.

The two of them had managed to navigate their strained relationship, finding common ground in their shared memories of Jane's mother.

Lord Hadley had opened up about Beatrice-her favourite colour, a vibrant shade of blue that Jane had worn tonight, and the way her eyes would light up when she laughed. The stories had brought tears to Jane's eyes, not just for the mother she never truly knew, but also for the father who had become more human in her eyes.

"Whatever is the matter, Jane?" Lord Hadley asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "You look unwell."

"I'm fine, father," Jane assured him. "I was just thinking about mother."

Lord Hadley's expression grew wistful.

"Your mother was a lovely woman," he said softly. "I apologise for your arranged marriage, Jane. Every woman deserves to marry out of love."

There was regret in his voice. Jane could also see the burden he carried, the weight of choices made under pressure.

"It's okay, father," she said gently. "I'll be alright. You don't have to worry."

Lord Hadley's eyes softened as he looked at her, a mixture of relief and sadness in his gaze.

"Beatrice would be proud of you," he said, his voice choking with emotion. "She had always wanted the best for you."

Jane smiled, a small, comforting gesture that spoke of forgiveness and understanding.

"Thank you, father," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll keep her memory alive."

Vote and comment 💋