Zayn is a kind man, very gentlemanly. He brings me refreshments, allows me time to mingle with others, and makes sure I am doing okay throughout the night. We have shared one dance so far, but we are going to have another soon.
It feels wrong agreeing to court a man, just to make Harry jealous. I have no intention of marrying Zayn, and yet here I am, pretending to be interested in conversation. We have gained a lot of attention so far and most everyone has forgotten about how Harry has ended our courtship. I know I'll look like a whore for going back to Harry once he inevitably gets jealous, however, I couldn't care less. I love him.
I've confided in Liam that I visited the Styles estate the other day. He scolded me for leaving alone and claims he would have taken me, but he was curious about Harry eavesdropping. He agrees that something else must have happened.
The last thing I'm going to tell Liam about is our talk that night when we were alone, so I'm glad he didn't ask more questions about why I am so hell bent on proving something isn't right. He is more interested in helping me at least get a moment to talk to him. Thank god for him.
As I stand with the Viscountess, taking a sip of my drink, a hand places on my shoulder. I turn my head slightly, knowing it is only Liam. "Yes, brother?" I ask, my heart already pounding.
"Lord Styles and his family have just arrived. They are entering the ballroom now and he has already spotted you. I believe you and the Duke should dance." he encourages and I nod. "Thank you, brother."
With that information, my eyes scan the crowd, in search of two people. Zayn and Harry. My eyes spot Zayn first, seeing him standing and talking to some other men about god knows what boring thing. Not too far away is Harry, who is also glaring toward Zayn. This is my chance.
I walk over to the Duke, curtsying to him and his friends upon my arrival. They all bow in my presence and Zayn smiles toward me, "Miss Pembroke." he greets.
"Your grace. I do not mean to interrupt your conversation, however I really do enjoy the next dance, perhaps we could participate!" I suggest, a bright smile on my face.
I feel foolish. Wearing that awful necklace he has gifted me, and a light pink dress as he has requested I dress in feminine colors, I feel like his perfect little doll and not like the woman he has affection for. Then again, marrying him would mean all my liberties being taken away from me within seconds of saying 'I do'.
Zayn smiles at my offer, nodding, "Of course." he agrees, turning to his friends to excuse himself. I take his arm, walking to the dance floor with him. Out of the corner of my eyes, Gemma is talking to an angry looking Harry. He is talking passionately under his breath, his gaze stuck on the Duke and I.
It kills me to know that I am causing him so much stress, but then I remember all he has put me through and I believe he is deserving of this mental turmoil. Perhaps it shall bring him to his senses finally. I would love to see him fight for me right here on this dance floor.
Zayn's hand is placed on my back and mine on his arm as our other hands grab hold of each other. He is very proper and rigid. Harry was always very suave and charming. Every move was effortless and romantic, where with Zayn, it just feels as though I am being led through the motions. There is no connection, no matter how hard he tries.
We begin to dance, making small talk about how the party has been for us so far. He makes a genuine effort to let me speak and to find out more from me, but he usually ends up going on about himself. Not that it's really in a bad way either, because it's something he is really just interested in, but it gets boring. I hope he finds someone who truly loves him one day.
As we dance, I hear Zayn scoff, "What is it?" I ask, looking up at him. Though I know exactly what it is.
"Lord Styles has decided to show his face. The coward." he mumbles, obviously glaring at the man I love.
"Well it does not bother me. He made his choice, now he must live with it." I say, but deep down I want nothing more than for him to interrupt my dance. I want him to regret his choice and to fix his mistake. I want him to love me.
Zayn shakes his head, his eyes meeting mine again, "What did happen between the two of you? It did seem rather sudden, I would have thought he was close to proposal." he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly.
"He did not say. Only that he was ending our courtship." I lie, something inside telling me not to tell him the truth. He pushes still, smiling at me, "Charlotte, you know you could tell me. And if it is because Lord Styles has been inappropriate, then I would not tell a soul."
My brows furrow and I almost stop dancing altogether. "Lord Styles was never inappropriate around me. He is a good man, extremely respectful and it just did not work out. Are you accusing me of taking liberties with him?" I question. This man really knows how to put his foot in his mouth.
Still, he keeps his calm composure, continuing to lead me along the floor. "I am not accusing you of anything, and dear, Lord Styles is anything but respectful. I have known him for years and to be quite honest, I was shocked to see he was even entertaining the idea of courting someone as kind and beautiful as yourself." he brushes off, smoothly trying to cover up his tracks.
It only makes me angry when people accuse Harry of being disrespectful. Yes, on the surface level he is rude, conceited, and sometimes even deceptive, however it is all just a front he puts on so nobody can see how truly lonely he is. He slept with women to fill a void and refused to attempt courting because he believed what was said about him.
Harry grew up with nobody on his side. His father was always busy with work, his mother was never home or was always fussing over Gemma, and Gemma was always kept away from him as she had to become an accomplished young woman. The only people Harry had were his nanny, who hated having to attend to a little boy, and his tutors. Harry was never a good student, so he just ended up upsetting them too.
To Harry, he was unloveable, so why should he believe that he would find himself a wife? Nobody loved him and appreciated him, not until me. Yes, he was cold and mean when we first met, however from the beginning I knew it was a front for something. And once he showed me his true self in that first letter, I knew he was letting me in for real.
I got to meet the real Harry Styles. Who has a beautiful smile, and a gentle touch. Who is careful and considerate. Who listens to my issues and tries to help me find solutions. Who makes me smile and laugh more than I ever had. Who makes me love him.
"Well, your grace. Perhaps there is more to Lord Styles than you know." I look away, not wanting to continue this conversation. Something about it is leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
Zayn just smirks, his eyes looking past me, obviously toward Harry. "Oh Charlotte, you deserve much better than Lord Styles." he says, his voice condescending. My brows furrow as I look up at him, "Such as you?" I ask, but rhetorically.
He looks at me, nodding, "Exactly, dear." He replies, not understanding I am being sarcastic.
The dance ends and I am quick to curtsy and go find Liam. Something about this isn't right. There is this pit at the bottom of my stomach and I just need to talk to Liam. I spot him through the crowd and quickly make my way to him.
Once I reach him, I grab his arm. "Harry saw us dancing." I tell him, but for some reason my heart begins pounding again. "Well good, then he should be coming to talk to you any minute." Liam says, knowing that's what I wanted.
My head shakes, "No, this isn't good. The Duke, I don't know, something isn't right Liam." I say, unable to fully articulate what I'm feeling. Just something is throwing me off completely. As I am about to elaborate, a voice breaks through the crowd.
"And why do you care, Styles?" Zayn yells, a smug smirk on his face. Everyone in the room becomes quiet, looking toward the men.
Harry looks completely frazzled and upset. He is gripping the lapels of Zayn's jacket in white knuckled fists. Zayn looks calm though, smug. As if he's won something. Harry's eyes meet mine immediately, those beautiful green eyes piercing through my soul. He looks embarrassed the second his eyes meet mine, and he lets go of Zayn's jacket.
Liam grabs my shoulder, beginning to quickly usher me away so we can leave. My eyes are stuck on Harry's as Liam leads me out. Zayn is speaking, so is Liam, and all the guests are whispering, no doubt about Harry and I. Harry is not paying attention either, just wrapped up in our unbroken stare.
The only reason we stop looking at each other is because Liam leads me out of the room and toward the front door. It is then that I notice the Viscount and his wife are with us now. We walk toward the carriage and I look at Liam. "Something isn't right."
He just nods, his face solemn, "I know, Charlotte. I know." he agrees, most likely having come to the same realization I have.
After that conversation with Zayn, and seeing Harry and him arguing, I believe I am starting to piece this together finally. Harry loves me, I know it for fact. But Zayn has something to do with this break up. I'm getting to the bottom of this tonight.
**
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