Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

E lizabeth paced the length of her bedchamber, her thoughts as restless as her steps. The soft padding of her slippers did little to muffle the tension crackling in the air. She had anticipated this evening— looked forward to it. A quiet dinner with her husband, a moment where they might share something akin to normalcy. But, no. Instead, Percy had appeared, shattering the peace she had so desperately sought.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she exhaled sharply, forcing herself to calm. It wasn't as though she should have been surprised. Percy had been meddling in her life from the very beginning—first with the scandal, and now, once again, with his untimely return. And of course, Alexander had felt the need to deal with him immediately, leaving her to dine alone.

Alone. Yet again.

Her heart twisted with disappointment, a gnawing ache that settled deep in her chest. Why did it seem that every time she thought she might have a moment with Alexander, something —or rather, someone—interfered? The first real opportunity to share a meal with him, and Percy had to barge in and ruin it. It was bad enough that his recklessness had landed her in this marriage in the first place, and now he seemed determined to upset what little happiness she had managed to find.

Elizabeth's pacing quickened, the soft rustling of her skirts filling the room as frustration simmered beneath her skin. She halted only when the door creaked open, revealing Lydia, her lady's maid, carrying a candle and a soft robe in her arms.

"Your Grace," Lydia greeted her, her voice quiet yet cautious as she closed the door behind her. "Shall I prepare you for bed?"

Elizabeth nodded, though her movements were sharp, betraying the tension she struggled to contain. Lydia stepped forward, her hands deft as she began to help Elizabeth out of her gown, folding the fabric with care. As Lydia worked, her brows furrowed slightly, concern evident in her gaze as she glanced up at her mistress.

"If I may, Your Grace, you seem... troubled," Lydia ventured cautiously, her voice gentle. "Is something amiss?"

Elizabeth stilled, her hands tightening around the edge of the dressing table. Troubled? It seemed an understatement. She was furious. Hurt. But she couldn't very well pour all that onto Lydia's shoulders, could she?

"It's nothing," Elizabeth said, her voice clipped, though it lacked the strength to fully dismiss Lydia's concern. She turned slightly, catching her own reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes darker with the frustration she tried to mask.

Lydia paused, her movements slowing as she continued to study her mistress, clearly unconvinced. "If it were nothing, Your Grace, I do not think you would be pacing the floor so." There was no judgment in Lydia's voice, only quiet concern.

Elizabeth sighed, relenting. "Lord Percy is back."

Lydia's hands froze for a moment, her surprise evident. "The Duke's brother?"

"Yes." Elizabeth exhaled sharply, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "He returned this evening—just in time to interrupt the only opportunity I had for dinner with my husband."

Lydia's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing, simply continuing her task of helping Elizabeth out of her gown and into her nightdress. The silence was almost a relief—at least Lydia had the sense not to press further. But as the quiet settled around them, Elizabeth felt the weight of her words hang in the air, and the frustration she had tried to tamp down surged once more.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but… does the Duke know how you feel?" Lydia asked, her voice soft as she smoothed the fabric of the nightdress over Elizabeth's shoulders.

Elizabeth's heart tightened at the question. Did Alexander know? Did he care ? She had no idea. They had shared so little time together since their marriage—every conversation overshadowed by obligation or propriety. She had thought tonight might change that, but now...

"I do not know, Lydia," Elizabeth said quietly, her tone laced with resignation. "I truly do not know."

The next day passed in a blur. Elizabeth didn't see Alexander, nor Percy, and perhaps it was for the best. The space gave her the time she needed to steady herself, to focus on the evening ahead. They were to host her uncle and aunt, and the thought of her family arriving was a welcome distraction from the tumult that had clouded her mind.

She busied herself with the preparations, ensuring everything was in place for the dinner. It was a small mercy, she thought, to have something tangible to focus on. The hours slipped by quickly, and before long, her family arrived.

When Elizabeth greeted them at the entrance, a warm rush of affection swelled within her. Her uncle, the Earl of Dowshire, greeted her with his usual joviality, his round face beaming with warmth. Aunt Petunia was more reserved but smiled as she enveloped Elizabeth in a tight embrace. And Anna—dear Anna, with her sharp wit and ever-present charm—seemed as delighted as Elizabeth was for the evening ahead.

But despite the joy of her family's arrival, a gnawing worry lingered. Where was Alexander? He had yet to make an appearance, and as the minutes ticked by, the knot in her stomach tightened.

Her uncle glanced around the room before turning back to her, his brow lifting. "And where is your husband, my dear? I had hoped to finally share a drink with him this evening."

Elizabeth's heart stuttered, and she forced a smile, trying to mask the unease creeping through her. "He is attending to some urgent business, Uncle," she said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. "But I assure you, he will join us shortly."

As the evening wore on, Elizabeth couldn't shake the growing worry that Alexander might not show at all. She had been foolish to think this evening would go smoothly. Percy's sudden reappearance had clearly thrown everything off course.

Her anxiety eased slightly when Colin arrived, his ever-pleasant demeanor bringing some lightness to the room. He greeted her with a warm smile before making his way over to her cousin Anna.

"Ah, Lady Anna," Colin said with a playful grin as he bowed, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles. "But where is your little thimble tonight?"

Anna's expression darkened at the mention of her beloved pug, and her lips pressed into a thin line. "That thimble , my lord," she replied tersely, her tone sharp, "has a name."

Colin chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he looked between Anna and the rest of the room. "Of course, my lady. Do forgive me. Titan, if I recall correctly—of all the names to give such a tiny creature!" His laughter rang out, clearly finding his jest far more amusing than anyone else in the room.

Anna's lips tightened, her gaze sharpening, but Elizabeth caught the subtle twitch of amusement in her cousin's expression. Anna, ever proud of her beloved pug, couldn't help but rise to the occasion.

"What he lacks in size, he more than makes up for in great spirits," Anna declared, her chin lifting as if that settled the matter.

Colin leaned back, a broad grin spreading across his face. "Now, why does that sound oddly ominous?" he teased, his voice light and jovial, drawing laughter from the others. Even Uncle Sebastian chuckled, though Aunt Petunia's expression remained as composed as ever.

Elizabeth joined in the laughter, but her smile felt tight, hollow. The levity in the room did little to ease the growing sense of unease twisting in her chest. Where is Alexander? She had expected him to join them well before now, but with each passing moment, her concern deepened.

Just as her worry reached its peak, the door creaked open, and she turned, her heart giving a small jolt.

Alexander entered the room, his tall, familiar figure a welcome sight—but only for a fleeting moment. For just behind him, stepping cautiously into the room, was Lord Percy Hunton.

The shift in the atmosphere was immediate and stark. The warmth and lightness that had filled the room moments before vanished, replaced by a palpable tension. Elizabeth felt it settle over the gathering like a cold mist. Her uncle's smile faded, his expression tightening with quiet disapproval. Aunt Petunia's mouth pressed into a thin line, and Anna's sharp wit seemed to evaporate as she regarded Percy with silent disdain.

Even Elizabeth, who had mastered the art of maintaining a composed exterior, felt a flicker of resentment stir within her. Percy's reappearance had already upset their lives once; now, his presence here, at what should have been a peaceful family evening, felt like another intrusion. But she did what was expected of her—smiled, controlled, and poised.

"My apologies for the delay," Alexander began, his voice steady, though Elizabeth could detect the tension beneath his words. "I was detained by business and, of course, by my brother." He gestured toward Percy, who stood awkwardly by the door, clearly aware of the discomfort his presence caused.

"I do not believe you've been formally introduced," Alexander continued, his tone formal and distant, as though attempting to impose civility on the room. "This is my brother, Lord Percy Hunton."

The silence that followed was longer than it should have been, and it was Uncle Sebastian who finally broke it. "We are familiar with Lord Percy," he said, his voice cool and measured, not bothering to disguise his displeasure.

Percy shifted, his discomfort palpable. Elizabeth watched him carefully, noting how he struggled to maintain his composure under the weight of her family's silent judgment. Despite everything, she could not help but feel a momentary pang of sympathy. But it was fleeting—Percy had caused too much harm, and no amount of awkwardness on his part would erase that.

Thankfully, Colin, ever the one to diffuse tension, stepped forward with his usual easy charm. "Well," he said brightly, clapping his hands together, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I am positively starved . Shall we see about dinner?"

The room's mood lightened, if only slightly, as laughter rippled in response to Colin's well-timed comment. Elizabeth shot him a grateful look. Colin, it seemed, had once again rescued the evening from slipping further into uncomfortable silence.

As they waited for the formal announcement of dinner, Elizabeth's gaze wandered, settling on Peggy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the evening. She found her youngest sister seated in a corner of the room, her attention completely absorbed in the book she was holding.

Aunt Petunia noticed as well, and her disapproving sigh broke the room's momentary calm. "Lady Margaret Sutton," she said sharply, her voice filled with the familiar edge of maternal reprimand. "Have you brought a book to a family gathering? What must the others think of your manners?"

Peggy looked up, startled, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she hurriedly closed the book. "I'm sorry, Aunt," she mumbled, her fingers lingering on the book's cover as if reluctant to set it aside.

It was Percy who spoke next, his voice gentle, yet carrying genuine curiosity. "May I inquire what you are reading, My Lady?"

Peggy's face lit up in a way Elizabeth hadn't seen in some time. There was a spark in her eyes, the kind that only came when someone showed a genuine interest in the things she loved. The moment Lord Percy asked about her book, Peggy's shyness seemed to melt away, replaced by a bright, almost breathless excitement.

"Oh, it's fascinating, truly!" Peggy said, leaning forward eagerly. "The knights, the quests, the battles—there's even a dragon who hoards enchanted jewels."

Percy smiled warmly at her enthusiasm. "It sounds like quite the adventure. I must confess, I do enjoy a good story with a touch of magic."

At that, Peggy's eyes widened. "You do?"

"Indeed," Percy replied. "I've been known to dabble in writing a few stories of my own."

Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the revelation, but it was Peggy who reacted first, practically bouncing in her seat. "You're a writer? Oh, how wonderful! What sorts of stories do you write? Do they have knights too? Or dragons? Do you write novels or plays? Have any been published?"

The flood of questions poured from her younger sister's lips as she leaned in, her curiosity fully piqued. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the sight. Peggy, often quiet and reserved, was now animated in a way that was rare to witness, especially in formal company. It seemed Lord Percy had struck upon something that had instantly endeared him to her.

Percy chuckled softly, clearly amused by Peggy's barrage of inquiries. "Yes, I've written a few novels," he said. "Though I'm afraid my characters are rather less noble than the knights you seem to enjoy. They're often flawed... but I do try to give them some redemption by the end."

Peggy's eyes sparkled. "That's even better! Flawed characters are the most interesting, don't you think? They're the ones who make the best stories because they can change."

Elizabeth watched the exchange, a warmth spreading in her chest despite her initial reservations. Peggy was positively glowing, and it was hard not to be swept up in her excitement.

Just then, the butler appeared at the door, announcing that dinner was ready. The group rose to their feet, the earlier tension easing into a more relaxed air. The evening was beginning to turn, and Elizabeth felt the shift in mood as they all moved toward the dining room.

The meal passed with pleasant conversation. Alexander and Uncle Sebastian quickly found themselves deep in discussion about parliamentary matters—something Elizabeth could only half follow but enjoyed hearing in the background. Meanwhile, Colin kept the atmosphere light, offering sharp-witted remarks that earned laughter from everyone, particularly when Anna was the subject of his teasing.

Anna, seated across from Colin, gave as good as she got, but Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the way her cousin's gaze strayed toward the Marquess more often than necessary. There was something unspoken there, a tension that danced between them, though neither would admit it aloud.

The dinner was one of the better ones they'd hosted, and by the time dessert was served, Elizabeth felt the strain of the evening easing, though not completely disappearing. The weight of Percy's return still lingered at the back of her mind, casting a shadow over the evening's lightheartedness.

After dinner, Anna was persuaded to play the piano, and the guests gathered in the drawing room to listen. Her fingers danced across the keys with practiced elegance, filling the room with music that seemed to charm everyone in attendance. Elizabeth, however, felt a growing restlessness.

Quietly, she slipped away from the gathering, making her way toward the balcony. The cool evening air greeted her as she stepped outside, the soft breeze brushing against her skin. She breathed in deeply, trying to shake the heaviness that had settled in her chest since Percy's unexpected return.

As she stood there, gazing out into the night, lost in her thoughts, she heard the faint sound of movement behind her. Her heart lifted, thinking it was Alexander. She turned, a small smile already forming, but it quickly faded when she saw that it was not her husband.

It was Percy.

Her expression must have given her away, for Percy's eyes sparkled with amusement as he stepped forward, a glass in his hand. "I'm sorry to disappoint, Your Grace," he said lightly, holding out the drink to her. "I can see I'm not quite the company you were hoping for."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She hadn't meant to show her disappointment so plainly, and now, caught off guard, she found herself sheepishly accepting the glass he offered. "I... thought you were Alexander," she admitted softly, glancing away.

"Clearly," Percy said with a teasing smile. "And I understand. Your husband is just inside, after all. Not far from you."

The humor in his voice, gentle as it was, managed to ease the tension she hadn't even realized had built between them. Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile, the corners of her mouth lifting despite the weight of her emotions.

They stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air swirling around them. Then, Percy's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "I didn't come out here to disturb your peace, Elizabeth. I wanted to say something that's long overdue."

She turned toward him, curious but guarded.

"I know that no apology I offer will undo what I've done," Percy said, his gaze steady and sincere. "There is no excuse for the disrespect I showed you, for the way I treated you and your family. But I hope... in time, you might find it in your heart to forgive me."

Elizabeth studied him, her emotions churning beneath the surface. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and weighted with the past. She wanted to believe him, wanted to accept his apology, but the hurt he had caused lingered like an old wound that had not yet fully healed.

Still, there was something in Percy's eyes that made her pause. Genuine remorse, perhaps. And though her feelings were conflicted, she found herself nodding slowly. "I... appreciate your words, Lord Percy," she said quietly. "But forgiveness... that may take time."

Percy inclined his head, accepting her response with grace. "Time is something I'm willing to give."

Elizabeth gazed out over the balcony, the cool breeze brushing against her skin as she turned her eyes upward. The moon hung high in the sky, full and bright, casting a silver glow over the garden below. It was a peaceful night, a sharp contrast to the emotions roiling within her. She sipped her drink, letting the quiet of the evening settle over her, but her thoughts remained restless.

As her gaze lingered on the moon, an unexpected thought surfaced, and before she could stop herself, she spoke aloud. "Peggy always says the full moon is when the werewolves come out."

Percy, who had been leaning quietly against the railing beside her, turned with a raised brow. "Werewolves?"

Elizabeth smiled, her amusement growing as she recalled Peggy's enthusiastic descriptions of the books she devoured. "Yes. It's a favorite topic of hers, it seems. The more fantastical, the better. Werewolves, dragons, enchanted forests… she lives for such tales."

Percy chuckled, his eyes gleaming with humor. "Ah, yes. I can see why that might appeal to her. Knights, dragons, and now werewolves. It all sounds rather thrilling."

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at his tone, the tension between them easing further. "She does have quite the imagination, doesn't she? It's been that way since she could first hold a book. I used to worry she would get too lost in her stories, but now... it's simply who she is. She finds comfort in her books."

Percy nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "She's a curious one, Lady Margaret. There's something… intriguing about her."

Elizabeth's smile faltered slightly at the sudden change in his tone. She studied Percy for a moment, noting the peculiar interest he seemed to have in her sister. "She is curious," Elizabeth agreed slowly, feeling her own curiosity rise. "But why does she intrigue you so?"

Percy shrugged, his gaze shifting away. "I suppose I've always been drawn to those who live with one foot in reality and the other in imagination. It takes a certain kind of mind to lose oneself in stories, doesn't it?"

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered his words. There was something about the way he spoke, as if he were keeping something back, evading her question in a way that felt intentional. "And what about your own stories, Lord Percy?" she asked, her tone light, but her curiosity genuine. "You said you write. What sort of tales do you create?"

Percy smiled, but it was tight, and the ease in his expression from before seemed to fade. "Oh, nothing nearly as exciting as your sister's fantasies, I assure you. Just… tales of flawed men, trying to make sense of their own mistakes."

Elizabeth tilted her head, watching him closely, sensing the evasion. "You sound as though you know your characters well."

A shadow flickered across his face, and for a brief moment, something unreadable passed through his eyes. But then, just as quickly, his usual charm returned. "Perhaps too well," he said lightly, deflecting the question once more. "Though, I must say, werewolves would certainly liven up my stories."

Elizabeth laughed, the tension between them lifting once more, though her thoughts remained unsettled. Percy was difficult to pin down. One moment, he seemed sincere, the next, elusive. But despite the evasion, she found herself warming to him, against her better judgment.

As they continued to talk, Elizabeth felt a subtle shift in her thoughts. Maybe the scandal had been an accident after all, born of recklessness rather than malice. Percy had caused pain, there was no denying that, but as she stood here with him, listening to him speak with humor and a kind of quiet self-reflection, she began to wonder if she had judged him too harshly. Perhaps he was not the villain she had made him out to be. Perhaps he was just a man who had made a grave mistake.

Her thoughts spiraled, conflicted and confused. She had spent so much time building walls of resentment toward him, seeing him as the source of her misfortune. But now, as she stood beside him, she began to see cracks in those walls. He was more than the scandal that had ensnared them all. He was a person—flawed, yes, but human.

And yet, the unease lingered. Elizabeth's gaze drifted back toward the drawing room, her eyes searching for Alexander. She spotted him immediately, standing near the door. But what she saw in his face made her heart stutter.

Alexander was watching them, his dark eyes fixed on her and Percy, narrowed with a cold intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. There was a hardness in his gaze, a shadow that had not been there before, and the sight of it twisted something deep inside her. The easy warmth she had begun to feel evaporated, replaced by a sudden, sharp tension.

Her breath caught as their eyes met across the distance. There was no mistaking the darkness in Alexander's expression.