“You simply could not get it right. You had to try over and over.” Alfred chuckled as he raised his hand, gesturing for her to twirl. “You were so feisty back then. Well, I suppose you still are.”
Genevieve scoffed. “I suppose you would not know,” she retorted, her shoulders stiffening despite their dancing. “Since you have not seen me since the accident.”
There were a few minutes of silence during which neither of them looked directly at the other.
“And your first husband…” Alfred continued, completely ignoring her comment. “Lord Mirfield, was it?”
Genevieve nodded curtly, still scanning the room for Wilhelm.
Where has he gone?
“I trust your new husband is treating you well?” Alfred inquired, his voice laced with curiosity.
“Perfectly,” she snapped. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, do not mind me,” he drawled, staring at her with a degree of invasiveness that made her uneasy. “I am simply curious. You know how the gossips of the Ton can be.”
Genevieve’s eyes narrowed on him. “And what have they been gossiping about?”
Alfred chuckled, a humorless sound that grated on her nerves. “The usual, I am afraid,” he replied. “Your… ahem… They whisper of a curse that led to the untimely demise of your first husband.”
“I am well aware of the rumors that follow me, Alfred,” she retorted coolly. “But I hardly need you to remind me of them, especially when a fair share of their gossip is regularly directed at you.”
Alfred’s smile widened, and a cruel glint flashed in his eyes. “I merely wished to express my sympathy,” he purred, his voice dripping with insincerity. “It must be difficult to bear the weight of such a burden.”
Genevieve scoffed, her eyes blazing with contempt. “Your sympathy?” she hissed, her voice filled with scorn. “If I remember correctly, you abandoned me in my hour of need, did you not?”
“Genevieve, I…” he stammered, his voice losing its arrogant cadence.
“I will not tolerate your hypocrisy, Alfred. And now, this late in the day, you dare to feign concern?” she scoffed.
Alfred’s face flushed. “I was merely trying to protect my reputation, Genevieve,” he argued, his voice laced with indignation.
“Your reputation?” Genevieve spat, her voice dripping with scorn. “You value your social standing more than the bonds of friendship, then?”
Alfred’s gaze hardened. “Do not lecture me on loyalty, Genevieve,” he hissed.
Genevieve’s gaze hardened as the music ended, and she stepped off the dance floor, the sound of footsteps trailing behind her.
It was then that she finally spotted Wilhelm, who immediately strode over to her.
Alfred stopped in his tracks. “Thank you for the dance, Genevieve. We can continue our conversation,” he gazed at Wilhelm, “another time.”
He quickly turned and walked away.
Wilhelm’s fiery gaze burned holes into Alfred’s retreating figure.
“Dance?” he echoed, his voice a low growl. “Did he touch you?”
Genevieve’s heart skipped a beat, and a warmth spread through her at his protectiveness.
“He…” Her breath caught in her throat. “I… merely wished to be polite.”
Wilhelm’s eyes locked onto hers with a force that took her breath away.
“You need not be polite to people like him,” he said, his voice rising as his ire grew.
Genevieve’s heart pounded, and her eyes widened. “I am sorry. I simply?—”
