Her eyes flitted around the room, searching for a safe haven, a familiar face, anyone who might provide a distraction from the turmoil inside her.
“Verity!” The sound of her name being called brought her back to the present moment.
She turned to see Lady Beatrice herself, resplendent in a gown of deep emerald green, making her way towards her. LadyBeatrice’s smile was warm and genuine, a beacon of kindness in the stormy sea of Verity’s emotions.
“My dear, how lovely to see you,” Lady Beatrice greeted her with an embrace that smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla. “You look absolutely enchanting tonight.”
Verity forced a smile, grateful for the compliment but struggling to find her voice. “Thank you, Lady Beatrice. Your ball is magnificent, as always.”
Lady Beatrice’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Oh, you are too kind, Verity. I do hope you are enjoying yourself.”
Before Verity could respond, a tall, familiar figure approached them, seemingly determined to make her already terrible night even worse. Lord Aldford appeared, a slight sway in his step and a glint in his eye that suggested he had already indulged in more than a few drinks.
Just perfect, Verity thought as she gritted her teeth together.
“Lady Verity,” Ambrose greeted with a bow, his voice slightly slurred but still smooth. “Might I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Verity hesitated, every fiber of her being wanting to refuse, but she knew causing a scene would be unwise.
With a resigned sigh, she nodded. “Of course, Lord Aldford.”
Ambrose grinned, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor as the orchestra began to play. They joined the other couples, moving through the steps of the quadrille. Verity did her best to maintain her composure, but the smell of alcohol on Ambrose’s breath was hard to ignore.
As they danced, Ambrose leaned closer, his voice low. “My daughters have spoken so highly of you, Lady Verity. They admire you greatly.”
Verity forced a smile, doubting the sincerity of his words. She recalled the disdainful glances and biting remarks from his daughters, who saw her as nothing more than a jilted spinster.The memory made her stomach churn, and she struggled to find a polite response.
“That is kind of them,” she managed, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.
Ambrose’s grip tightened slightly as they moved through the steps, his eyes fixed on her.
“You are a remarkable woman, Verity. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side.”
Her heart ached at the words, knowing they were hollow. Ambrose’s interest was driven more by convenience than genuine affection.
She nodded politely, her mind wandering to Lord Easton once more, and the warmth she felt in his presence. That could not have been more different to this.
As the dance continued, Ambrose’s grip on Verity’s hand tightened further, making her uncomfortable. She tried to keep her composure, but the smug expression on his face was grated on her.
“Tell me, Lady Verity,” Ambrose said, his voice dripping with condescension, “what do you think about the possibility of our union? My estate is one of the grandest in the county, and my daughters… well, they may need a firm hand, but they would benefit greatly from your guidance.”
Verity forced a smile, her patience wearing thin. “I appreciate your confidence in me, Lord Aldford, but I don’t think anything has been decided yet.”
And it would not be… not in Ambrose’s favor if she had anything to say about it.
Ambrose chuckled, a patronizing sound that grated on her nerves. “You have a lot of romantic notions, my dear. But in our society, practicality often trumps such idealism. You should be grateful for the opportunity to secure your future. You shouldtake a look at what is right in front of you. Don’t make a mistake that you will regret forever.
Her jaw tightened as she fought to keep her frustration in check. “I believe there is more to life than just securing a future. Happiness and love are equally important.”
Ambrose’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Love is a fleeting emotion, Verity. Security and status, however, are enduring. Don’t let your naive dreams cloud your judgment.”
The dance felt interminable, each step with Ambrose a reminder of the cold, calculating world she was expected to navigate.
As the music finally drew to a close, Verity curtseyed, eager to escape his presence.
“Thank you for the dance, Lord Aldford,” she said, her voice strained but polite.
“The pleasure was mine,” Ambrose replied with a slight bow, though his eyes held a hint of irritation. “Think on what I have said, Verity. A wise woman knows when to embrace opportunity.”
