Chapter 1

"Esther, my dear! You do not touch any sweets at home, and now suddenly you feel your blood sugar is low?" Lavinia Arnold, a woman of grace and poise, chided.

"Mother, please," Esther pleaded with frustration, "can't I just enjoy the evening without worrying about what others think?"

Esther stood by the buffet table, eating another muffin right after finishing the last one. From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother shooting her a scolding glance, but she ignored her and indulged in the sweetness of the dessert, her pink dress now covered in crumbs.

Her mother couldn't stand the sight anymore and hurried over to smack her hand with a closed fan. Esther was also quite sure she heard a few of the ladies she passed chuckle. In fact, scrutiny was all Esther noticed. Some people eyed her and then turned to whisper to their partners. Not that any of that bothered her. In fact, she was glad her reputation preceded her. She just wished she didn't stick out like a sore thumb so much.

"I'm just eating," she grumbled under her breath.

Lady Seymour sighed as she regarded her daughter with a mix of concern and affection. She reached out a hand to gently cup Esther's cheek with a warm and reassuring touch.

"I understand their scrutiny is uncalled for, my dear," she muttered, "but you must remember your responsibilities as a young noble lady. It's important that you conduct yourself with dignity and grace, especially in a place as public as this."

"But, Mother—" Esther frowned.

"No buts," Lady Seymour cut in exasperatedly and dropped her hand. "If you truly care about me, you would stay poised. I'm sure I saw one of the gentlemen eyeing you earlier. He might be interested. Quite a handsome one, if I do say so myself."

Esther stifled a groan, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Again with the suitors, Mother," she muttered, feeling as though she were trapped in a never-ending cycle of expectations.

But Lady Seymour caught her daughter's protest and became sterner. She fixed her with a sharp look. "Esther, I will not have you going off about that nonsense again. Do you wish to turn gray in my house?"

Esther's cheeks flushed, her gaze dropping to the floor as she struggled to find the right words to express herself. She knew that her mother meant well, but the thought of being forced into a marriage of convenience filled her with suffocating dread. There was a familiar pain, a sort of churning in her gut at the mere thought of it.

Something in the back of her mind niggled at her, and she shook her head lightly. Taking a deep breath, she maintained her composure and hoped that her discomfort wasn't too obvious.

She wondered if maybe she should tell her mother the truth about her resistance to the matters of marriage. But as she eyed the Countess's expression, she realized it wasn't the time. She didn't know if it would ever be the right time.

"Mother," Esther began regardless, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I am not interested in the suitors. I refuse to be paraded around like a prize to be won. I want… I want more than that."

Lady Seymour's expression softened at her daughter's heartfelt confession. "Oh, my dear," she said softly. "I understand. I only want what's best for you, you know that. But you must understand the realities of our world. You cannot afford to be so… idealistic."

Esther met her mother's gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she struggled to convey the depth of her feelings. "But, Mother," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din in the ballroom, "I cannot bear the thought of sacrificing my happiness for the sake of expectations. I want to find love on my own terms, not be forced into a loveless marriage."

Her mother clicked her tongue dismissively. It was obvious the woman's loving patience was wearing thin as her body stiffened and shoulders squared, making herself taller to exert dominance.

"Enough, Esther. I am going to talk to Lord Bach. When I call you, I expect you to show up," Lady Seymour said almost sourly.

Esther's heart sank as she turned to walk away from her mother's stern gaze, her steps heavy with the weight of unspoken words. But before she could retreat completely, a gentle voice called out to her. It was her sister-in-law, Harriet, standing next to her with a warm smile.

Esther couldn't shake the weight of the conversation she'd just had with her mother.

Harriet's ever-so-perceptive gaze seemed to have caught the subtle shift in Esther's demeanor. "Esther, dear, is everything all right?" she asked softly in concern, putting a reassuring hand on Esther's arm.

Esther hesitated for a moment before offering a small nod. "Yes, everything's fine." Her voice was steady despite her inner turmoil.

Harriet arched a knowing eyebrow, her expression gentle yet persistent. "You don't seem fine. I can tell when something's bothering you. You can always talk to me, you know?"

Esther's resolve wavered, torn between the desire to confide in Harriet and the instinct to keep her emotions tightly guarded. But the genuine concern in Harriet's eyes was hard to ignore, and she found herself relenting, if only slightly.

"It's just…" she trailed off as she struggled to find the right words. "It's about my mother. She keeps pressuring me about marriage, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet. Not after what happened the last time I allowed it."

Harriet's gaze softened with empathy. "I can imagine, but have you considered telling her yet?"

Esther hesitated. The thought of revealing the event to her mother sent a shiver down her spine. Harriet was the only person who knew about it, and the only one who wouldn't ever judge her for what happened.

"I… I'm not sure she would understand," Esther admitted.

"You have a reason. What happened was not right… I cannot stand to watch you force yourself like this." Harriet gave her a worried glance.

"Harriet, please." Esther shook her head.

Harriet dropped her hand to Esther's fingers with a reassuring squeeze. "You never know until you try," she said softly. "Your mother loves you, and I'm sure she would want to know what's truly bothering you."

Esther offered a faint smile of gratitude. "Thank you," she murmured appreciatively. "I'll… I'll think about it."

Harriet released Esther's hand with a confident smile. It was clear Esther couldn't be pushed more on the matter. At the end of the day, it was her decision whether she wanted to tell anyone or not.

She felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that she had a friend like Harriet by her side.

As the music swelled around them, Esther forced a smile on her face, determined to appease her mother's wishes. But deep down, she couldn't shake the memories that lingered just beneath the surface, haunting her like ghosts from a distant past. The ghost that followed her to balls and her bed. She kept looking around, in the crowd and over her shoulder, eyes peeled for a familiar face to run from should they make an appearance.

Lady Seymour appeared from somewhere and grabbed Esther's arm, dragging her around to introduce her to various gentlemen. Many of them were new faces, much to her mother's satisfaction, but Esther found herself growing increasingly disinterested in any conversation they offered.

It took at least five failed attempts with perfectly respectable gentlemen before, finally, Lady Seymour excused herself to speak with another guest, leaving her standing awkwardly beside a particularly pompous gentleman. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as the man began to regale her with tales of his impressive lineage and illustrious achievements. The man barely looked at her over his high nose and ridiculously thick mustache, which curled at the ends.

"Ah, Lady Esther, I must say, you are even more stunning up close," he declared, his tone oozing with faux flattery as he finally stopped to look at her face.

Esther turned her head his way and suppressed a scowl, her patience wearing thin. "Oh?" she replied dryly, unable to resist a touch of sarcasm. "Can you see me over that mustache?"

The man blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by her unexpected response. But before he could muster a reply, Lady Seymour returned, her expression brightening as she rejoined the conversation.

"Ah, Lord Harrington, it seems my daughter has been keeping you entertained," she said with a gracious smile.

Esther shot her mother a knowing look, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Absolutely." She grinned. "We were just discussing the weather, weren't we, Lord Harrington?"

"Excuse me, my ladies," Lord Harrington nodded stiffly, clearly unsure how to respond to her irreverent remark.

"Come now, Esther," Lady Seymour said a little worriedly while glancing between Esther and the gentleman, "let's not keep Lord Harrington from mingling with the other guests."

"Esther, that man looked traumatized," Lady Seymour chided. "Whatever did you say to him?"

"I complimented his mustache."

Her mother's jaw dropped. "Enough with your antics. Come with me now."

And then she whisked her daughter away to another man, hoping to redeem her chances, but Esther already had a plan to shoo away the next target as well.

"Ah, Lord Montague!" Esther exclaimed with forced enthusiasm, her voice intentionally high-pitched to catch the attention of nearby guests. "I simply must tell you about the time I mistook you for a stable hand!"

Lord Montague blinked in surprise and offense.

"Esther, why must you embarrass such a gentleman on the account of your poor eyesight?" Lady Seymour declared nervously, paling at such an abrupt declaration as Lord Montague's fellows laughed softly at his expense. "I apologize on my daughter's behalf, Lord Montague."

"Oh, but you're rather familiar with the horses in your stables, aren't you, Lord Montague?" Esther replied with a playful grin. "Your jacket was so peppered with hay, I assumed you rocked them to sleep yourself on the haystack."

"Esther!"

With a wink at the bemused Lord Montague, Esther allowed her mother to lead her away, a sense of satisfaction washing over her as the crowd around the man burst into laughter. Though she may not have escaped the endless parade of suitors entirely, she had certainly succeeded in injecting a bit of levity into the stifling atmosphere of the ballroom. And for that, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

Her mother glared at her as they stopped near a shaded pillar. Before the weary woman could say anything, her eldest son, Adam Arnold, the Viscount Linfield, appeared before them.

"Lively tonight, aren't we?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"Your sister certainly is. She's quite determined to raise my blood pressure tonight." Lavinia rubbed her temples.

"Mother, why don't you join Harriet and the good ladies there?" Adam suggested sympathetically. "Walk with me, Esther."

Esther groaned, knowing there was another lecture coming.

"Sister," he said in a low voice, gently guiding her away from their mother and the other guests by the elbow, "I know what you're doing."

Esther's heart skipped a beat at his directness, but she held his gaze steadily, refusing to let her apprehension show. "I'm not sure what you mean," she replied innocently.

Adam raised an eyebrow in amusement and gave a wry smile. "Don't play coy with me," he said. "Your attempts to drive suitors away are the talk of the ball."

Her brother's perceptive gaze made her feel exposed. She searched for the right words, knowing she couldn't easily dismiss his keen insight.

"It's just…" she trailed off as she struggled to articulate her feelings. "It's just the same old routine. These suitors, these conversations… they all feel so stifling and redundant. It's a game of measuring convenience of partnership, not of developing true understanding."

Adam nodded empathetically. "But you can't keep avoiding this forever. Eventually, you'll have to marry, and there won't be many options by the time you decide to do so."

"I know," she replied resignedly, her shoulders slumping with defeat. "But for now, can't I just have a little fun?"

Adam chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "Of course, Esther," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just be careful not to take it too far. You know how Mother can be."

"She has no sense of humor. Father would appreciate it."

"You know, if you keep this up, Mother might just marry you off to a gentleman older than Father himself."

Esther couldn't help but laugh at the playful threat, her tension melting away in the warmth of her brother's teasing. "Don't even joke about that," she said. "I think I'd rather face a hundred suitors than endure that fate."

Adam grinned, his playful demeanor lifting the mood. "Well then, I suggest you find a way to make peace with Mother's matchmaking endeavors," he said almost pleadingly. "Otherwise I might just have to intervene and find you a suitor myself."

Esther feigned horror at the thought. "Oh, perish the thought!" she exclaimed dramatically as she raised the back of her hand to her temple. "I'd sooner take my chances with the older gentleman."

Though their conversation was lighthearted, Esther couldn't shake the underlying truth of Adam's words.

"Do you remember when we used to come to this estate as children?" Adam asked wistfully as he looked around the ballroom.

Esther smiled as she reminisced about their carefree childhood days. "I do," she replied. "Let me guess, you're about to remind me of that time I hid in one of the rooms for hours and gave everyone a fright?"

"Quite right." He nodded. "You were always the master of hide-and-seek. I swear, you could vanish into thin air, and we'd never find you."

"Don't tempt me to try," she threatened with a playful wink. "I must admit, it was rather entertaining watching everyone search high and low for me."

"Indeed, it was," he agreed amusedly. "Always managed to give us a good scare before popping out with that mischievous grin of yours."

As they reminisced about their childhood adventures, Esther felt a sense of relief wash over her. Despite the challenges they faced as adults, she knew that she could always count on her brother to keep the joy and playfulness in their lives. Growing up without him would have been mortifying.

Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flask, the metal glinting in the soft light of the ballroom. With a playful smile, he extended it towards her.

"I have a little something here that might help you think," he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial as they found themselves a ways from the bustling party. "Whiskey has always been my go-to for moments like these, and perhaps it will do the same for you."

Esther's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the flask from her brother, looking around to make sure they were completely alone. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of indulging in a forbidden pleasure, even if it was just for a moment.

"But, Adam," she protested mischievously, "I thought ladies weren't supposed to drink such liquor. What will Mother say if she catches wind of this?"

"Ah, but that's precisely the point." He winked. "Consider this your final act of defiance before you succumb to the whims of societal expectations."

Esther's let out a challenging scoff. "Well then, here's to one last hurrah before I become the perfect lady Mother always dreamed of."

With a quick glance around to ensure a clear coast, Esther raised the flask and took a small sip, feeling the burning liquid go down her throat. As the familiar sting danced on her tongue, she couldn't help but smile at the rush of exhilaration that swept over her.

"Now," Adam added, "I suggest you find a quiet corner to enjoy your drink in peace. Perhaps you could hide away in one of the rooms, like old times."

Esther nodded eagerly, excited at the prospect. "That sounds perfect. Let's see if I've still got my hiding skills."

"And, Esther… I wasn't joking about Mother marrying you off to the older gentleman," Adam told her somberly. "Make sure you're ready, alright?"

Esther turned away from him and walked off without an answer, the knot in her stomach tightening. She really needed the liquor.