CHAPTER 14

Wesley, accompanied by his mother and sister, stepped into the grand ballroom of Lord Thomas and Lady Rebecca's town house. The soirée was already in full swing, with guests mingling and chatting animatedly because they were clearly already very much enjoying themselves.

Wesley only wished that he could get caught up in that same feeling, but he could not. Not with his mother still acting distant and strange around him. He knew that he had upset her, but it was much easier when she just told him what was going on. He did not like the guessing game, because it left him more on edge.

Yet, even knowing that his mother was annoyed at him, as Wesley circulated among the guests, his eyes occasionally scanned the crowd, searching for Lady Sylvia. He could not help himself. He exchanged pleasantries with acquaintances and smiled politely at introductions, but his mind was elsewhere all the time.

It had to be bad because his mother finally snapped at him.

"Wesley, do try to focus," she admonished quietly as they greeted Lord Thomas. "We must not appear inattentive. It is rude and you will get people talking."

"Yes, Mother," Wesley replied, offering a charming smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I will do better."

Harriet, more attuned to her brother's mood, gently nudged him. "Looking for someone?" she whispered teasingly.

Wesley's smile turned genuine at his sister's perceptiveness. "Perhaps," he admitted, his gaze once again sweeping the room.

Harriet's eyes sparkled with inquisitiveness but she said no more, allowing her brother the privacy of his thoughts. Wesley was sure that she knew what was going on in his mind though.

As they made their way further into the ballroom, Lady Rebecca approached, her face alight with the joy of hosting such a splendid event. It seemed she was clearly in her element. "Lady Victoria, Lord Wesley, Lady Harriet! I am so delighted you could come," she greeted warmly. "I hope you enjoy the evening."

"The pleasure is ours, Lady Rebecca," Lady Victoria replied with a gracious nod. "It appears absolutely delightful. You have executed such a splendid task. Pray, do share more about the embellishments you have…"

Wesley slipped away from his mother as soon as he could, while she was distracted by Lady Rebecaa, and maneuvered through the crowd, his eyes flickering over the room until they landed on a familiar face. Edward. Thank goodness he had someone he could while the hours away with. It might not have been Lady Sylvia, yet it was quite agreeable.

However, just as Wesley was about to make his way to Edward, his path was abruptly blocked by the Duke and Duchess of Ervington, accompanied by their daughter, Lady Arabella, who had a smug smile playing on her lips, as if she had navigated this whole thing.

"Ah, Lord Wesley!" boomed the Duke, his presence commanding the space around him as it always did. "Just the man we were hoping to see."

Wesley offered a polite smile, inwardly bracing himself for the interaction. "Your Graces, how wonderful it is to see you," he acknowledged, bowing slightly to both the Duke and Duchess. "Lady Arabella, good evening."

"Lord Wesley," Lady Arabella replied with a sweet, practiced smile, fluttering her eye lashes in a manner she undoubtedly hoped was charming. "It is lovely to see you on this fine night."

"Yes, it is always lovely to see a high standing gentleman as yourself," the duke said, half teasing. "My daughter has been thoroughly looking forward to this ball."

Wesley maintained his polite demeanor, though his thoughts remained scattered. "Thank you, Your Grace. Lady Rebecca has outdone herself, has she not?"

Lady Arabella stepped closer, her hand lightly resting on her father's arm. "Lord Wesley, it would be wonderful if we could share yet another dance tonight," she suggested, her voice soft and inviting.

Wesley forced a smile, his gaze briefly flickering past her to the other guests. "Of course, Lady Arabella. I would be honoured."

But before he could really think of an excuse to get himself out of dancing with Lady Arabella right away, the atmosphere in the room shifted completely. At least it did for Wesley. His eyes widened with surprise and happiness as his gaze flickered automatically towards the entrance of the ball.

Oh my! He wanted to gasp.

Lady Grace and Lady Sylvia had arrived.

Lady Sylvia looked utterly breathtaking, dressed in a striking shade of green that complemented her figure and made her stand out in the sea of pastel gowns. Her poise and elegance captured the room's attention, and for Wesley, everything else faded into the background. Their eyes met across the room, the magnet pulling them together once more, and the connection they shared was palpable, it shot like lightning through Wesley and led to a prolonged gaze that bordered on scandalous in the eyes of the ton.

I have to see her, he thought desperately to himself. I need to escape Lady Arabella so I can see her now…

Just as Wesley was about to cave to temptation and make his way towards Lady Sylvia, the moment was shattered by a sharp comment from his right hand side. The Duchess spoke loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear in a deeply scathing tone. "It is a pity when some people forget their origins and try to mingle above their station," she remarked, her eyes coldly fixed on Lady Sylvia. "I find it utterly humiliating…"

The bluntness of the remark, clearly directed at Lady Sylvia, sent a ripple of discomfort through Wesley. His jaw clenched, a surge of anger rising within him. He turned to the Duchess, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation. "Your Grace, I…"

But before he could say anything else to potentially cause a scene, his mother appeared beside him. It was as if she knew that he was about to do something dangerous here. She greeted the Duke and Duchess with a warm but formal smile. "Your Graces, Lady Arabella. How delightful to see you all this evening."

She rested a warning hand on Wesley's arm.

He knew that he had pushed it too far and needed to clamp his lips together so he did not make a fuss.

"Lady Victoria," the Duchess replied, her tone equally formal. "It is always a pleasure."

Lady Victoria turned her gaze to Wesley, a subtle but firm expression on her face. "Wesley, dear, I do believe it is time for the first dance. It would be most fitting for you to lead Lady Arabella to the floor."

Wesley's heart sank. He had hoped to avoid this particular scenario, especially with his thoughts so preoccupied with Lady Sylvia. However, his mother's intent was unmistakable, and defying her in such a public setting was not an option. He had upset her too much, he had to do what she required right now. There was no choice in the matter.

"Of course, Mother," Wesley replied, his voice even. He turned to Lady Arabella, offering his hand. "Lady Arabella, may I have the honour of the very first dance?"

Lady Arabella's smile widened, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "I would be delighted, Lord Wesley."

As the orchestra struck the first notes of a waltz, Wesley led Lady Arabella to the center of the ballroom. The guests parted to make way for the lead couple, and all eyes were on them. Wesley felt a mixture of resentment and resignation. This was not where he wanted to be, but duty and decorum demanded it. They were things he could not escape from, however hard he tried.

"You look quite dashing tonight, Lord Wesley," she remarked, her voice soft and engaging as she performed the dance steps perfectly.

"Thank you, Lady Arabella," Wesley replied, his tone polite but distant. "You look lovely as well."

Wesley's exterior was the picture of grace and poise, his movements precise and practiced. To the onlookers, he probably seemed perfectly composed, but inside, he seethed with frustration. This was not the woman that he wanted in his arms, and he was sure that his mother knew that much. He felt much more comfortable with Lady Sylvia in his arms. He did not want to give Lady Arabella the wrong impression either, even though it might have been too late for that.

As they glided across the floor, Lady Arabella continued to attempt to engage him in conversation. "You know, Lord Wesley, I do believe this is the most splendid event of the season so far. What do you think?"

Wesley nodded politely, forcing a smile. Had she not said the very same thing about every event they had attended? Everyone did, it was almost like it was the mantra of the ton. No compliment could ever be trusted, because they complimented everything. "Indeed, it is quite the affair."

Lady Arabella continued to chatter, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm. "I wonder if there will be a grand announcement tonight. I always enjoy it when there is excitement."

Wesley's smile tightened as he tried to focus on what Lady Arabella was saying, but he knew that Lady Sylvia was in the room now and he could not shake her off. He wished that he could spend the evening talking to her without worrying about what others might say.

Lady Arabella, sensing his distraction but misinterpreting it, leaned in slightly, her voice softer. "Lord Wesley, I do hope we can spend more time together this season. It has been a lot of fun. I do not like dancing with anyone as much as I do with you."

Wesley's jaw clenched, but he maintained his polite demeanor. "Lady Arabella, you honour me with your words."

As the dance drew to a close, Wesley felt a surge of relief. He bowed to Lady Arabella, offering her a polite smile. "Thank you for the dance, Lady Arabella. It was a pleasure."

"The pleasure was mine, Lord Wesley," Arabella replied, her eyes lingering on him with clear intention.

Wesley escorted her back to her parents, his mind racing with thoughts of Lady Sylvia. He needed to extricate himself from Lady Arabella's company without causing a scene so he could find who he really wanted to speak to. With practiced politeness, he excused himself. "If you will pardon me, Lady Arabella, I must attend to other guests."

Lord Arabella's smile faltered slightly, but she nodded. "Of course, Lord Wesley. I hope to see you again soon."

With a final nod, Wesley turned and moved swiftly through the crowd, his heart pounding. He scanned the room, searching desperately for Lady Sylvia. He had fulfilled his obligation for the evening, and now he was free to follow his heart. At least for a little while. As long as his mother did not catch him.

The crowd seemed to blur around him as he made his way towards the far end of the ballroom, where a flash of green caught his eye. Lady Sylvia stood near a cluster of guests, her presence radiant and captivating. Wesley felt a sense of calm wash over him as their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. He ached to speak with her, and to feel that sense of intense joy overcoming him.

Just as he neared Lady Sylvia, his mother appeared as if from nowhere and stepped into his path, finding him at the worst possible moment, just as he feared she might. She took Wesley's arm, guiding him in a different direction. Her voice was low, but her tone was firm. "Wesley, you must not approach Lady Sylvia."

Wesley's heart sank, but he maintained a respectful fa?ade. "Mother, I do not understand. Why not?"

Lady Victoria's eyes flashed with a mix of concern and authority. "You know this. We have talked about it. Her standing, Wesley. Her family's reputation. You must consider what is expected of you, the weight of our family name. After dancing with Lady Arabella, it would be very rude of you to approach someone below your station."

Wesley listened, his face a mask of calm, but inside, he was roiling with conflict. He hated listening to his mother talking this way, it sickened him to his very core. She had always been concerned with social standing, but that seemed to have gotten worse over time.

"Mother," he began, his voice measured, "Lady Sylvia is a guest here, invited by Lord Thomas and Lady Rebecca. Surely that speaks of her character and her standing. It does not matter what the scandal sheets say, she is here, it is time to accept her."

Lady Victoria's gaze hardened. "It is not about her character, Wesley. It is about perception. The eyes of the ton are always watching, judging. One misstep could ruin everything. This is such an important Season for you, and you are going to lose it all."

Wesley nodded, appearing to comply with her concerns, but his mind was already made up. The constraints of society felt like chains around his heart, and he could no longer bear their weight. In a moment of quiet rebellion, he decided to defy his mother's caution and to do exactly what he wanted to, proving that he simply did not care what others said.

"Thank you for your advice, Mother," he said, his tone respectful. "I will be mindful."

Lady Victoria looked relieved, giving him a nod of approval. She clearly thought that she had gotten through to him, and that he was going to do as she required. As usual. "Good. Now, let us return to our friends."

But Wesley had other plans. As his mother turned to rejoin the gathering, he moved with determined steps toward Lady Sylvia. The atmosphere seemed to shift as Wesley approached, a palpable tension spreading through the room. His heart was absolutely racing but he did not care. This was an exciting sensation, one that he could not get enough of. He could feel the weight of countless eyes upon him, the whispers of the ton swirling like a storm. But he paid them no mind. His focus was solely on Lady Sylvia, and the connection they shared.

"Lady Sylvia," he said softly as he reached her, bowing slightly. The guests around them fell silent, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding scene.

Lady Sylvia looked up, her eyes widening with a mix of surprise and delight. "Lord Wesley," she replied, her voice equally soft.

Wesley extended his hand, his gaze unwavering. "Would you honour me with this dance?"

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The murmurs of the crowd faded into a distant hum, the grandeur of the ballroom receding as Lady Sylvia placed her hand in his. Her touch was warm, her smile radiant.

"I would be delighted," she said, her voice carrying a note of defiance that matched his own.