His attire had been an anomaly among the meticulously curated wealth of my father’s estate; the styling of his coat was unfamiliar, his self otherworldly in a place built on rigid decorum.He was not one of us.
A traveler, perhaps.A man accustomed to lands beyond the reach of our noble circles.There had been something in how he carried himself, a quiet defiance in the set of his shoulders—as though he belonged to a world far greater than the gilded cage I inhabited.
And then there had been his smile.
Oh, that smile—a mere flicker, gone before I could grasp its meaning.But it had changed something.
A fleeting curve of his lips, yet it had unraveled me.
“Lady Elizabeth?”
Mary’s voice pulled me back to the present, laced with quiet concern.
“Forgive me,” I murmured, smoothing the front panel of my gown as if I could press away the lingering thoughts that refused to leave me.“I was… somewhere else.”
Mary tilted her head, eyes twinkling with knowing mischief.“Somewhere, or with someone?”
I hesitated for the briefest moment before conceding, “Perhaps both.”
Her lips curved into a conspiratorial smile as she leaned closer.“Whoever he is,” she whispered, her voice as light as a feather against the charged air between us, “he has certainly made an impression.”
Heat bloomed across my cheeks, betraying me before I could form a proper defense.“It’s foolishness,” I admitted, though they felt like a lie as I spoke the words.
Because no matter how much I tried to dismiss it, I knew.
I would carry that moment with me for as long as breath filled my lungs—the unexpected thrill of contact, the firm grip that had steadied more than just my body.
And as I vanished down the corridor, he left behind more than just a fleeting memory.
He left behind questions.
And a longing for answers I feared I would never receive.
Nestled within my chamber’s silk and brocade confines, I felt like a ship adrift, my thoughts unmoored, wafting ceaselessly toward him—toward the stranger whose touch had set my world alight.
He became something more in my mind’s eye with each passing moment.A wanderer.An adventurer.A man who had braved the tempests of distant oceans and stood with quiet confidence in foreign courts, his stories as plentiful as the stars.
The clock ticked, marking the march of time, yet I remained ensnared in the past.I traced the memory of our collision, the firm pressure of his hands against my shoulders, the fleeting charge that had passed between us.
I closed my eyes—and there he was.
A ghostly aura lingered in the quiet of my room, half-formed from shadows and whispers, compelling in ways I could scarcely articulate.
My heart, once so disciplined and so accustomed to the restrained pace of expectation, now beat with its own will.
It fluttered as the lace brushed against my skin, mistaking it for his touch.
It soared at the rustle of leaves beyond my window, imagining it the sound of his return.
I chastised myself for such fancies—what sense was there in yearning for a specter, for a phantom who existed only within the hazy realm of chance?
And yet…
As the gloaming cast its velvety curtain across the sky, I allowed myself the indulgence of dreams where our paths might cross again.
In the grandeur of a ballroom, our hands might find one another, our steps aligning in a dance as old as time itself.
Across the throng of reception, our gazes might meet—a look laden with secrets and silent promises.
