CHAPTER 9

Lady Beatrice always held the most lavish events. She was known for her opulence and impeccable guest lists. Her balls were one of the most popular soirees in the Season. Everyone was very much looking forward to the ball, but Verity could not garner the same excitement. Even in her finest gown, with her hair styled in the most complicated looking chignon, she felt out of place.

Henry had not even taken her into the ballroom yet, and the nerves had gripped tightly on to her. She could not shake them off however hard she tried.

"Oh, it sounds rather busy already," her mother declared as soon as she stepped off the carriage. "I am sure that tonight will be a lot of fun."

If only Verity could get caught up in that feeling. The closer they stepped to the crowds, and the more that she could hear of the chatter and laughter from the ton inside, the more anxious she felt.

She took her brother's arm, needing someone to hold on to, as they stepped into the glittering lights of the ballroom and was immediately left breathless by how stunning it was. Lady Beatrice really had created a magical feeling evening, leaving Verity struck with the notion that anything was possible.

Perhaps tonight would not be as dreadful as she feared after all.

But then as her eyes scanned around the room, she found her gaze locked on to the most perfect looking couple who truly seemed to have all eyes upon them in the best way possible.

Cedric and Daphne.

She had heard rumors of their return to London but did not expect to see them like this.

The sight of them caused a rush of painful memories and emotions to crush her. It felt like she was transported once more back to the very moment that Cedric told her he did not wish to marry her because he had fallen in love with her best friend all over again.

Her mother gently squeezed her arm in a comforting gesture.

But that did nothing to make her feel any better. Her heart constricted, her chest tightened, she could not get enough air in to her lungs, no matter how hard she tried.

I wish to run, Verity thought desperately to herself, I want to get out of here.

But of course, she could not do anything that would draw attention to herself. She could not cause a scene without becoming the victim of the ton's tongue lashings. Again.

Did Cedric and Daphne have to look so happy together? Did they have to make such a wonderful couple? They were the sort of people that others would look upon jealously because they were so much in love. It wasn't fair. They had wronged Verity. They had broken her heart and left her shattered. It wasn't right that they were happy now, and in love, while she was the one left behind.

Thankfully an announcement ricochetted through the hall, drawing Verity's attention away from them. She could not stand to see them for another second longer.

"Announcing the arrival of the Marquess of Eilendale, the Dowager Marchioness, and Lady Georgiana Easton."

Verity's heart skipped a beat again, but for a different reason this time.

The Marquess of Eilendale entered the room, looking so handsome he almost took Verity's breath away.

He might have been a sight for sore eyes in Kew Gardens, but dressed in his tailored evening attire, he was truly dashing. Verity was sure that she wasn't the only person to think so. A twinge of longing ached in Verity's stomach. Talking with Philip at Kew Gardens had been the highlight of her week. She had never enjoyed talking to someone as much as she did him.

If only she could cross the ballroom now and corner him so they could talk once more.

She would love to hear his chocolatey smooth voice as they discussed art or something equally as fascinating again. But of course, she could not move from her mother and brother's side. She could not do anything that would draw attention to herself, that was her main goal for this evening. To remain invisible at all times. Especially with Cedric and Daphne in the room. A stark reminder of the last scandal that she was involved in.

Verity moved to the back of the hall, preferring to stand with the wallflowers rather than the belles of the ball. She wanted to watch others dance rather than think of dancing herself. Unfortunately, that made it very challenging to avoid the sight of the woman who she used to enjoy these events with.

Daphne always made everything so much fun. Even when the society events were dull and there was no one of interest in attendance, Daphne would always make sure that they spent the whole night laughing.

Although with hindsight, Verity knew that the laughter was nasty, at the expense of others. But that did not make the pain in her chest loosen even a little.

Now with time passing, Verity could see that it was actually much more painful to lose her than it had been to lose Cedric. The betrayal of her best friend was the worst part of all of it, and now it was very clear that Daphne was pointedly not looking her way.

She was so busy fixated on Daphne that it took her a few moments to realize what was happening right beside her old best friend. Cedric was talking to Philip as if they were old friends. And it quickly became apparent that he was enthusiastically bringing his stunning younger sister, Rosalind, into the conversation.

As if he thought they might be a good match…

A pang of jealousy shot through Verity's heart.

With Philip's title, it made sense that he would be a perfect match for the beautiful and accomplished Rosalind. They even looked well matched together, both well-polished and graceful. They would be an envied couple in society which only made Verity feel even worse about herself.

Verity's head spun, emotions crashing over her like relentless waves. She wanted to disappear in to the shadows, to be invisible. The crowd, the music, the laughter was all too overwhelming. Her eyes stung as she blinked back tears, determined not to let anyone see her distress.

I should not even have distress, she tried to remind herself. Not over a man I spoke to just the once…

She had to get a grip on herself. There was no use comparing herself to a debutante. There wasn't even any point in thinking about Philip, because she knew she could not have him.

Verity squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm.

Her eyes flitted around the room, searching for a safe haven, a familiar face, anyone who might provide a distraction from the turmoil inside her.

"Verity!" The sound of her name being called brought her back to the present moment.

She turned to see Lady Beatrice herself, resplendent in a gown of deep emerald green, making her way towards her. Lady Beatrice's smile was warm and genuine, a beacon of kindness in the stormy sea of Verity's emotions.

"My dear, how lovely to see you," Lady Beatrice greeted her with an embrace that smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla. "You look absolutely enchanting tonight."

Verity forced a smile, grateful for the compliment but struggling to find her voice. "Thank you, Lady Beatrice. Your ball is magnificent, as always."

Lady Beatrice's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, you are too kind, Verity. I do hope you are enjoying yourself."

Before Verity could respond, a tall, familiar figure approached them, seemingly determined to make her already terrible night even worse. Lord Aldford appeared, a slight sway in his step and a glint in his eye that suggested he had already indulged in more than a few drinks.

Just perfect, Verity thought as she gritted her teeth together.

"Lady Verity," Ambrose greeted with a bow, his voice slightly slurred but still smooth. "Might I have the pleasure of this dance?"

Verity hesitated, every fiber of her being wanting to refuse, but she knew causing a scene would be unwise.

With a resigned sigh, she nodded. "Of course, Lord Aldford."

Ambrose grinned, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor as the orchestra began to play. They joined the other couples, moving through the steps of the quadrille. Verity did her best to maintain her composure, but the smell of alcohol on Ambrose's breath was hard to ignore.

As they danced, Ambrose leaned closer, his voice low. "My daughters have spoken so highly of you, Lady Verity. They admire you greatly."

Verity forced a smile, doubting the sincerity of his words. She recalled the disdainful glances and biting remarks from his daughters, who saw her as nothing more than a jilted spinster. The memory made her stomach churn, and she struggled to find a polite response.

"That is kind of them," she managed, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Ambrose's grip tightened slightly as they moved through the steps, his eyes fixed on her.

"You are a remarkable woman, Verity. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side."

Her heart ached at the words, knowing they were hollow. Ambrose's interest was driven more by convenience than genuine affection.

She nodded politely, her mind wandering to Lord Easton once more, and the warmth she felt in his presence. That could not have been more different to this.

As the dance continued, Ambrose's grip on Verity's hand tightened further, making her uncomfortable. She tried to keep her composure, but the smug expression on his face was grated on her.

"Tell me, Lady Verity," Ambrose said, his voice dripping with condescension, "what do you think about the possibility of our union? My estate is one of the grandest in the county, and my daughters… well, they may need a firm hand, but they would benefit greatly from your guidance."

Verity forced a smile, her patience wearing thin. "I appreciate your confidence in me, Lord Aldford, but I don't think anything has been decided yet."

And it would not be… not in Ambrose's favor if she had anything to say about it.

Ambrose chuckled, a patronizing sound that grated on her nerves. "You have a lot of romantic notions, my dear. But in our society, practicality often trumps such idealism. You should be grateful for the opportunity to secure your future. You should take a look at what is right in front of you. Don't make a mistake that you will regret forever.

Her jaw tightened as she fought to keep her frustration in check. "I believe there is more to life than just securing a future. Happiness and love are equally important."

Ambrose's eyes narrowed slightly. "Love is a fleeting emotion, Verity. Security and status, however, are enduring. Don't let your naive dreams cloud your judgment."

The dance felt interminable, each step with Ambrose a reminder of the cold, calculating world she was expected to navigate.

As the music finally drew to a close, Verity curtseyed, eager to escape his presence.

"Thank you for the dance, Lord Aldford," she said, her voice strained but polite.

"The pleasure was mine," Ambrose replied with a slight bow, though his eyes held a hint of irritation. "Think on what I have said, Verity. A wise woman knows when to embrace opportunity."

Verity forced a tight-lipped smile as Ambrose released her hand, her skin tingling with relief now that the dance was over.

She watched him retreat in to the crowd, his form disappearing amongst the elegant gowns and tailored suits of the gala attendees. The weight of his words lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself against the rising frustration. Ambrose's proposition had been clear, his intentions veiled beneath a veneer of polite society. The thought of a union with him filled her with a sense of suffocation, as if her fate were being decided by forces beyond her control.