He wanted to explain more, but the dance had finished. Before he could tell her anything else, she released his hand.
“Thank you for the dance,” she told him, disappearing in the crowd, out of sight, leaving him stunned and speechless.
CHAPTEREIGHT
It was the morning after the engagement party, as Phyllis glanced about the room she had spent the previous seven days at. Everything was packed. She was ready to return home… or at least, so it seemed. With a tinge of something akin to melancholy in her green eyes, she found herself grappling with unexpected emotions.
The engagement party, filled with its splendor and even the dance of their conflicting ideals, had left an indelible mark on Phyllis. She had avoided Alexander all night, only to realize now that their conversation which eventually led to an argument was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It was impossible for someone to agree on everything. Somehow, even this disagreement had become a source of secret enjoyment for her.
She inhaled deeply, when a knock on the door informed her that the valet was there to pick up her bag and take it downstairs. She nodded silently, unable to shake the sense of sadness that settled within her. The prospect of leaving the Dukedom of Woldaves felt like parting ways with a newfound friend.
Deep within her heart, Phyllis acknowledged that the sadness wasn’t solely about bidding adieu to the enchanting estate. It was a realization that the secret play, the regency-era drama, had provided her with a reprieve. While she had to pretend that she was falling in love with this man, she surprised herself how easily that pretense came. The prospects of actually falling in love with someone like him were, for a brief moment, almost a tangible possibility.
She walked down the grand staircase, her footsteps echoing like bells. She wondered if she would ever return here. A single month was a short period of time. Then again, much could happen only in the span of several hours, let alone several weeks.
The air outside the house felt crisp as Phyllis emerged from the grand entrance, her eyes reflecting the morning light. Waiting by the carriage were her father and sister, their expressions a mix of anticipation and readiness for the journey back home. Phyllis walked somberly over to them, her steps carrying the subtle weight of the experiences she had gathered during their stay here.
Alexander was there, a regal figure with a demeanor befitting his station, stood alongside his mother and his brother. They were waiting for her to bid them all farewell.
“Thank you for everything,” Phyllis heard her father express his gratitude to the dowager duchess, who smiled benevolently. “It was an honor to be here.”
“It was an honor to have you all,” the dowager replied. “We hope you have a safe journey back.”
“Hopefully, it will be,” he replied.
“We hope to see you all very soon,” she added.
Phyllis’ father beamed at those words. “I do hope it will be for the marriage, which will happen very soon.”
All eyes were now on Phyllis and Alexander, who stood there, mute and paralyzed, not sure what to say.
“We’d best get going,” she finally mustered, skillfully sidestepping any direct response to that, opting instead for advice and a polite farewell to everyone.
“Goodbye, Phyllis,” Alexander said, as he gently took her hand into his, bestowing upon it a chaste kiss.
As he did so, a subtle flustered air clung to her, betraying an unexpected unrest beneath her calm façade. She knew that she shouldn’t have such a reaction to him, a man who was pretending to be in love with her.
“Goodbye, Alexander,” she whispered back, pulling her hand away from him, as if he had scorched her with his kiss.
Moments later, as the carriage bearing Phyllis and her family departed from Dukedom of Woldaves, an unexpected wave of sadness washed over her. She felt a peculiar sense of regret, of longing for something she would never have. Her mind presented her with unspoken possibilities, which seemed to make the complexity of their brief encounter even more potent, now casting a shadow of melancholy over her departure.
Within the confines of the carriage that was taking them home, her father could not contain his glee. The past events carried a sense of accomplishment for him.
“Phyllis, my dear, everything is going according to my plan,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I shall no longer worry about my daughters, particularly the chatter about both of them being unmarried.”
Phyllis and Joyce exchanged a meaningful glance. The satisfaction in their father’s voice hinted at a sense of both relief as well as achievement, because for him, the prospect of Phyllis’ impending union seemed to secure his standing within the circles that dictated the norms and standards.
“You should be very happy, my dear,” he told Phyllis, who believed that this should be a question and not a statement. But all she could do was comply.
“Yes, Father,” she said as calmly as she could, endeavoring not to reveal her true emotions.
To be quite honest, she wasn’t all that certain what her true emotions were. Just like Alexander, she pretended to be in love with him. However, she did not pretend to be interested in him, in his tastes, in his preferences. She wanted to know more about him. There was an entire spectrum of feelings inside of her, swirling around. Curiosity, uncertainty, and unexpected tenderness that defied the plans that had been set in motion by none other than herself.
As Phyllis tried to navigate the labyrinth of her own emotions, her eyes caught a glimpse of something profound in Joyce’s expression. In the silence of the carriage, a glance between the two sisters revealed a wordless understanding. Joyce’s eyes sparkled with an unmistakable joy, a radiant glow that mirrored the sunlight oozing through the carriage windows, promising a lovely day. It was a testament to the happiness she found in the future prospect of marrying the viscount. In that moment, as green pastures unfolded beyond the carriage, Phyllis recognized the true significance of her sacrifice.
Sensing her sister’s turmoil, Joyce took Phyllis’ hand into her own, squeezing it gently. In the warmth of her sister’s happiness, Phyllis discovered a sense of fulfilment that transcended the complexities of her own emotions. As the road stretched out before them, Phyllis knew that whatever obstacles she had to transcend, it would be worth it to see her sister happy.
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