Chapter 2

"Good evening, Your Grace," a gentleman greeted William with a deferential bow.

The Duke of Harcourt hated being approached at all, but he decided that he would be polite that evening.

"Good evening, Lord Hawthorne," William replied. "I trust you are enjoying the festivities?"

Lord Hawthorne nodded. "It's quite grandiose compared to the others I've attended before."

"It's the first event of the Season," William reminded him. "There's an impression to make, as usual."

"And what impression do you intend to make?" inquired the other man. "Or will this be another Season without a maiden to court?"

William grunted under his breath. "Excuse me."

He made his way through the crowded ballroom but began noticing the subtle shifts in the guests' demeanor at his presence. Women fluttered their fans and smiled coyly in his direction, their eyes alight with admiration and anticipation. It was a familiar scene, one that had played out countless times before, and yet William remained steadfastly focused on his purpose.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment, his critical gaze sweeping over the assembled guests. He knew that behind the facade of laughter and revelry lay a world of intrigue and ambition, where alliances were forged and broken with the flick of a fan. He knew that his sisters' futures depended on his ability to navigate the treacherous waters of high society with precision and skill.

As he approached his mother and three sisters, his expression was one of quiet determination. He leaned in close to whisper to them.

"Sarah, Juliet," he said sternly, "please remember the gentlemen I asked you to avoid tonight. Keep your distance from Lord Montague and Lord Harrington. They're known for their indiscretions."

Sarah and Juliet nodded obediently at their brother's counsel.

"And what about Lord Hawthorne?" Juliet whispered back.

William paused for a moment. "Lord Hawthorne is a respectable choice," he replied finally. "He comes from a good family and has a solid reputation."

Sarah snorted under her breath. "Didn't you just walk away from him?"

"He was overstepping."

"William, dear, you're being far too apprehensive," Dorothea, his mother, interjected with a disapproving frown. "All gentlemen should be greeted well. It wouldn't do to offend anyone."

William's jaw tightened at his mother's words, but he held his ground. "With all due respect, Mother," he said firmly, "we cannot afford to take unnecessary risks, especially not during Sarah and Juliet's debut."

Dorothea sighed in defeat. "I understand your intentions, but sometimes caution can be mistaken for coldness. Remember to tread carefully."

"I will ensure that my sisters are protected at all costs."

With that, he led his sisters away to the matches he deemed best.

The twins excitedly whispered to their older sister Marina about the grandeur of their first ball, something William wanted to chide them for, as he felt they were getting their hopes up with all their romantic fantasies.

"Oh, Marina, look at the balcony!" Juliet exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. "It's bursting with flowering vines like something out of a fairytale!"

Sarah looked at where her sister pointed in awe. "Brother, must we always trim the vines on our balconies at home? Look how romantic that looks."

"And the gazebo!" Marina added.

"Girls, hush," Dorothea scolded. "You must remember to comport yourselves with dignity and grace. It wouldn't do you good to show too much excitement."

Juliet and Sarah exchanged sheepish glances, their enthusiasm dampened by their mother's reprimand. They nodded obediently and composed themselves, straightening their postures as their mother taught them.

Meanwhile, William watched for a familiar face. His old friend Duncan Finch, the Marquees of Norbury, emerged from the crowd and made his way over. Despite the usual serious demeanor, William found himself feeling lighter upon seeing his friend.

"Duncan, it's good to see you," he said warmly. "It's been too long."

Duncan grinned. "Indeed, old friend, but you haven't changed a bit. Still as serious as ever."

"For good reason," William admitted as seriously. "Especially with the twins' debut this Season, I don't want anyone getting too frank with me. But enough of that. What have you been up to lately? Caused any more unnecessary scandal?"

Duncan's eyes gleamed mischievously as his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, you know me, William. I've always got my ear to the ground when it comes to the latest scandal. There's been no shortage this Season."

"It's barely even begun." William smirked. "Well, do tell. I could use a bit of distraction from the usual politics and protocol."

Just then, Duncan's attention was drawn to a newcomer entering the ballroom. "Before that, there's someone I'd like you to meet," he murmured, gesturing towards the approaching figure. "This is Richard Dowding, the Baron Paddington. He's been away for a while, but he's a good man with even better fortune, thanks to his new business."

"Good evening, Your Grace," Richard said warmly as he extended his hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise," William replied tersely, his handshake brief.

Despite the man being Duncan's friend, William wished to assess the newcomer on his own terms.

Richard, undeterred by William's reserved demeanor, continued the conversation. "I've heard much about you and your family from Duncan. Your reputation precedes you."

William raised an eyebrow. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Of course not." Richard chuckled. "I must say, I've been looking forward to this ball ever since I arrived in town. It's quite the event, and the ladies get prettier each Season."

William offered a tight-lipped smile in response, his guarded nature evident in his demeanor. "I suppose you're here to find a wife for yourself."

"Yes. Aren't you?"

Duncan elbowed Richard in the ribs with a warning look, and Richard suddenly became apologetic.

"Ah, my apologies, Your Grace. I didn't mean to pry."

William exhaled deeply. "It's all right."

"His Grace doesn't really indulge himself." Duncan laughed nervously. "But I would say, old friend, people have been whispering about Lady Juliet perhaps being the Diamond of the Season. You'll have your hands full very soon." He then turned to Marina with a gallant smile. "Lady Marina, would you do me the honor of sharing a dance?"

Marina nodded graciously. "I would be delighted, Lord Norbury."

Meanwhile, Richard turned to Juliet, extending a polite hand in invitation. "Lady Juliet, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

Juliet's cheeks flushed. She glanced at William, seeking his silent approval, and he offered a subtle nod of encouragement. Richard seemed all right to him, but he was still alert.

The girls were led away to the dance floor and joined the swirling throng of dancers. William observed it all carefully, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.

As the evening wore on and the dance floor filled with more couples, William watched with quiet pride as his sisters danced with their partners. He remained on the sidelines as he observed the happiness and excitement that radiated from them. And as the music swelled and the laughter echoed through the ballroom, he felt his heart growing heavy.

He wondered how quiet it would become at home once his sisters married and went off to their new homes.

The dance ended, and there was an exchange of bows and curtsies. He then noticed Sarah excuse herself from the gathering suddenly with a forced smile and get away from Duncan. His friend looked worried and looked over at him and Dorothea, nodding his head to where Sarah had walked off.

Dorothea moved, and William followed along as they caught up with the young woman, who seemed completely fine only moments before.

"Is everything all right, Sarah?" Dorothea asked with a note of concern.

Sarah nodded quickly. "I'm just overwhelmed, Mother," she replied, but William could tell something was amiss. "I think Lord Norbury may have twirled me one too many times."

Without waiting for a response, she slipped out of sight into the hallway.

Dorothea turned her attention to William and sighed, and he gave her an apologetic look. "Give her some space, Mother. I'm sure she'll sort herself out. It's her first ever ball."

"Yes," she sighed, then cleared her throat. "We worry about her enough, but… what about you? Have you considered finding a dance partner for yourself tonight? Perhaps even a wife?"

William's jaw tensed imperceptibly at his mother's inquiry. He knew that she only had his best interests at heart, but the prospect of marriage held little appeal for him at that moment.

"I appreciate your concern, Mother," he replied evenly, "but marriage is not something I intend to pursue at this time."

"Oh, come now, William," she chided, "surely there must be one woman out there that caught your eye tonight. You can tell me."

William's lips twitched at his mother's persistence, but his resolve remained firm. "I assure you, Mother, I have no intentions to marry until I see my sisters settled."

Dorothea sighed almost defeatedly. It was no secret that William was fiercely devoted to his family, and it was difficult for anyone to fault him for wanting to prioritize their happiness above his own.

"Well, if that's what you truly desire, my dear," she conceded with a fond smile. "But do promise me that you'll at least keep an open mind. You never know when love might come knocking on your door."

"Of course, Mother," he replied sincerely. "But for now, let's focus on the girls."

Dorothea nodded and looked over at her daughter, who stood by an open window at the end of the hallway, and then walked off to join her.

The night wore on, and the bustling ballroom remained a stage for eager mothers and their hopeful daughters, each vying for a chance to catch the eyes of the eligible Duke. William politely declined each introduction, his gaze drifting back to his sisters instinctively when they appeared by his side with their mother.

"It's been far too long, Beatrice!" Dorothea exclaimed suddenly, and William turned to see who his mother was talking to. "How wonderful to see you again!"

Beatrice, the woman in question, returned Dorothea's embrace with equal enthusiasm. "Indeed, it has," she replied nostalgically. "You haven't aged a day!"

They exchanged pleasantries and caught up on old times that William tuned out, but he noticed Beatrice glance up at him.

"Just a moment," she said in surprise. "Is this William?"

"Yes," Dorothea replied proudly.

"Goodness, you've grown so much!" Beatrice exclaimed in awe. "You were barely as tall as I was when I last saw you."

William tried to rack his brain for any memories of Beatrice. He recalled his mother often talking about her best friend and the letters they exchanged. He nodded politely in response. As expected, immediately after that, she introduced her daughter, Bethany, a lovely young woman with a winsome smile. One that didn't affect William in the slightest.

"Do you remember Bethany?" Dorothea asked. "She used to play with your sisters all the time whenever they visited."

"I do not," he replied emptily, which dampened the mood substantially.

"That's quite all right, Your Grace," Bethany said kindly. "I, too, have a weak memory. Nevertheless, how do you find the ball? Has anyone caught your eye yet?"

William stiffened imperceptibly at the question, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features. "No," he replied diplomatically. "And I have no intention to let it happen."

Beatrice was not as easily dissuaded as her daughter. "Ah, but surely your late father would have wanted you to continue the family line."

The mention of his father struck a nerve with him, a sudden pang of grief and longing welling up inside. He took a moment to collect himself, his jaw tensing as he fought to maintain his composure.

"I appreciate your concern, Lady Beatrice," William replied darkly, "but I assure you that my father's wishes are never far from my mind. However, as they say, a man may lead a horse to water, but he cannot make it drink."

Beatrice seemed to have realized that she'd overstepped a boundary, as her eyes dulled with regret.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he said smoothly, offering her a polite nod of farewell.

As William sought refuge from the pressures of the ballroom, he found himself pursued by a mysterious figure, her presence lingering in the shadows of the dimly lit hallway. Seeking solace in an isolated bedroom and then on its secluded balcony, his moment of respite was shattered by the sudden appearance of the lady, whose intentions were anything but subtle.

"Taking a breather, Your Grace?" she purred with a sultry smile. "I hope you don't mind my joining you."

Flabbergasted by her audacity, William recoiled slightly with a mix of shock and disbelief. Though he was accustomed to the attention of admirers, never before had he encountered such brazen forwardness.

"Pleasure to have made your acquaintance," he replied, his voice firm yet tinged with unease. "But I'm not in need of company tonight. You should return to your chaperone, lest we be misunderstood."

"I doubt anyone else will be coming this far into the residence," she said with a honeyed allure to her voice, drawing closer to him.

"And you shouldn't be here either."

The woman was undeterred by his rejection, her fingers trailing tantalizingly down the sleeve of his coat.

"Come now, Your Grace," she cajoled, her voice dripping with practiced charm, "surely you can't resist a bit of excitement? Let us make our own fun, away from prying eyes." She stepped closer, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. "Surely a handsome man like yourself wouldn't object to a bit of company, would you?"

A polite smile tugged at William's lips, though his tone remained firm. "I appreciate the offer, but I prefer to be alone right now."

The woman subtly drew her fingers to the embellishment on the sleeve of his coat. "But why waste such a beautiful evening all by yourself? I could carry a much nicer conversation than the skies."

A hint of exasperation crept into William's voice as he gently pushed her away. "I'm afraid our definitions of fun may differ, Madam."

Her laughter tinkled like a bell in the night, her eyes dancing with amusement. William found her too loud for his liking. "You're a man of strong resolve, Your Grace. It's admirable."

A flicker of annoyance flashed across William's face as he held his ground. "I'm glad you recognize that."

His stern demeanor did not discourage her, for she stood on tiptoe, her breath warm on his cheek. "But imagine the thrill of breaking the rules. Just this once."

William stepped away from her. "I prefer to abide by them."

The woman sighed dramatically. "You're so stubborn. Can't you see the potential for adventure?"

"I find adventure in more meaningful pursuits."

Her playful facade faltered for a moment. "You're impossible to persuade"

William met her gaze with unwavering resolve. "When it comes to matters of principle, yes. I'm sure you'll find plenty of men in the ballroom who lack it just enough to tend to your shamelessness."

She scoffed and was about to answer when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move. William's heart lurched at the thought of possibly being caught in a scandal.

Someone stepped forward, a voice ringing out with a confident authority that belied the usual demureness of most people of the ton.

"My apologies for the interruption, Lady Agatha," a lady with loose blonde locks declared boldly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife, "but I couldn't help but overhear. It seems there has been a misunderstanding."

To William's surprise, he found himself captivated by her in ways unfamiliar to him. She was beautiful at first glance, but that was most women of the ton, and he'd become accustomed. No, something about her commanded the moonlight to rest on her skin, casting a sheen of silver over the curls that bounced gently over her bosom. He couldn't understand why her hair wasn't tied up like that of the rest of the women in the ton, which was very bold and scandalous of her.

She was shapely in a way that the corset accentuated the prominence of her silhouette. Even the shameless woman looked at her hard, unamused, and almost jealous

William locked eyes with the blonde lady for a second and saw the fire behind her warm brown irises, as if she was genuinely upset about something. It was the first time someone had made displeasure look amusing yet attractive.

Agatha turned to face her with a mix of confusion and indignation. "And what are you doing here, Lady Esther? Pray tell," she demanded with a tinge of annoyance.

Esther met Agatha's gaze with a hint of steel in her eyes, which was quite impressive to him. "I am who William promised to be spending the night with."

My word. Her lack of shame will be difficult to counter.

"W-What?" Agatha stammered, her voice faltering as she stepped away from William. "I—oh goodness, Lady Esther. For all I know, you could be lying, given the reputation of that loud mouth of yours!"

The bold woman's gaze didn't waver. "This loud mouth won't hesitate to announce your blatant attempt to make advances on someone else's suitor!"

"Ugh!" Agatha cried out and beat a hasty retreat, her embarrassment palpable as she hurried into the room and out into the hallway, leaving Esther and William alone on the balcony.

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her declaration lingering in the air like a veil. William stared at her in stunned disbelief, his gaze tracing the delicate curve of her features with a newfound sense of wonder, and perhaps intimidation as well. She wore such a delicate hue of pink, it suited her pale skin.

It also accentuated her blush.

She met his gaze with a small, amused smile. "Well," she remarked casually with hands behind her back, "that was unexpected. I must say, I think I did good work of scaring her."

William's lips twitched with amusement as he struggled to find his voice and composure, momentarily captivated by the sheer audacity of her actions. He realized he'd eyed her for too long, and that he also needed to reprimand her somehow without seeming too ungrateful.

"You did," he replied neutrally, trying to hide his admiration. "But I must say, those were some… bold words. Do you have no fear?"

"And?" She raised an eyebrow. "It worked, didn't it?"

William frowned. "What if she goes about spreading rumors? You've put me in a disadvantageous position."

"I doubt she'd dare spread rumors about a duke," Esther challenged. "She'd be shunned for spreading questions about the honor of someone so distinguished!"

"I suppose…"

"A thank you would suffice." She put her hands on her hips.

He did want to thank her, but the more he watched her, the more he feared that the price he would be paying for her favor would be more than he could afford.