CHAPTER TEN
Victor paced at the foot of the grand staircase, his patience wearing thin. They were running late for the ball, and Alice wasn’t ready yet. He glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, the ticking seconds amplifying his anxiety. They needed to be on time. The earlier they arrived, the fewer people they would have to greet.
"What’s taking so long, Roberts? The ball is about to start," he asked Roberts, standing by his side. "She has been getting ready for so long."
"Do you want me to get a message to her, Your Grace?" Roberts asked.
Victor ran his fingers through his hair. "No," he said quietly. "I wouldn’t want to rush her."
He had been dressed and ready to go for over thirty minutes. His outfit had been meticulously chosen for the occasion. It wasthe Crowell Ball, one of the most anticipated balls of the season. Everyone was going to be there.
Victor had on a tailored black tailcoat, its fine fabric hugging his broad shoulders while tapering elegantly at the waist. It was paired with a white waistcoat featuring subtle silver embroidery. His trousers matched the coat and fell neatly over polished black boots. It was tailored to fit. He had made sure of it. Appearance was everything to society, after all.
Just as Victor turned his gaze to the stairs, Alice emerged, standing at the top. Perhaps it was the flickering candlelight or the deep emerald gown that seemed to flow with every step she took—or perhaps a fusion of both—but the moment he set eyes on her, something about her seemed almost otherworldly.
She wore a gown of deep emerald green, the fabric flowing like liquid around her form, highlighting her curves with an effortless elegance that took his breath away. Victor was not one to stare for long, but he could not take his eyes away. His heart raced as he watched her descend the stairs. A mix of awe and something deeper stirred within him.
Her hair flowed in soft waves, with a few tendrils framing her face, and pearls scattered around it like stars against a midnight sky. At that moment, he wasn’t in a rush anymore. He felt as if he were witnessing the unveiling of a masterpiece, one that had been hidden away and was now emerging into the light. Alice was beautiful, no doubt about that, but there was something different tonight.
Something more captivating.
Victor’s heart quickened and, no matter what he did, he couldn’t calm himself down. It was a reaction he hadn’t expected, and he had to force himself to maintain his composure, even though his gaze remained fixed on her, unwilling to let a moment pass.
"Apologies for my tardiness, Your Grace," she said, reaching the foot of the stairs. "Seeing as we need to keep up appearances, I figured I would try to look my best."
"Your efforts show," he said to her and cleared his throat, not wanting her to dwell on the moment or his compliment. "We must go or we’ll be late. I’d hate to arrive when the ballroom is flooded with people. That is more eyes on me at once than I am prepared to handle."
"I’m all set," Alice said to him. "Let’s get this over with."
Victor recalled saying those words to her the day they’d first met, on their wedding day. He’d been weary then, surrounded by curious, expectant eyes that scrutinized his every movement, every glance. All he had wanted, after enduring that endless ceremony, was to retreat to the estate, to shut the world out and disappear into the solitude of his own company.
Now that he thought about it, he realized that it was a cruel thing to say to Alice. Judging from how terrified she looked that day, he figured he could have done a better job to assuage her.
When Victor reached the carriage out front, he opened the door himself and extended his hand to help her step into the vehicle. Instead of accepting, Alice stared at him, confused.
"This is what people do, is it not?" he asked.
"Most people...yes," she answered. "But...you don’t have to. We’re not in public yet."
"We can start now," he said, stretching his hand further.
Alice looked reluctant, but then she sighed. "Well, since it’s the polite thing to do."
She placed her hand lightly in his, her fingers brushing against his palm in a way that sent an unexpected warmth through him. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Victor became acutely aware of everything. Her soft hand against his coarser one, her lean fingers warm yet delicate in his grasp, and her scent, faint but undeniably present. If he had to guess, he’d say it was a blend of lavender and something subtler. He blinked, forcing himself to pull back as soon as she was seated. After taking a second to breathe, he got into the seat across from her and kept his gaze out the window as they began the journey.
It was safe to say that he was flustered. Victor had not been aware of the feeling until he met Alice. Everything she did unnerved him more than he cared to admit.
"Alice, we need to present ourselves as a loving couple tonight," Victor said to her. "The rumors surrounding our marriage will only dissipate if we give people something to believe in. The sooner we do that, the better."
"Yes, Your Grace," she answered unenthusiastically. "Whatever you say."
Victor turned to her, sensing the attitude in her tone. "Are you still upset about our last conversation over breakfast yesterday?"
Alice only glanced at him. "There’s nothing to be upset about."
Victor stared at her. She had talked about death, and he had reacted strongly to it. His reaction had been instinctual, a sudden response that surprised even him. He hated the talk of death or dying. It twisted something in him...memories he fought so hard to bury.
"There’s a wall, Alice," he said to her, causing her to shift her attention to him. "You’re right."
