She was teasing him. Point in her favour.
A brief silence hung between them, the music providing a backdrop to their unspoken tension. Seraphina’s facade began to crack slightly, revealing glimpses of vulnerability beneath her composed exterior.
Tristan took a step closer, his voice gentle yet earnest. “Lady Seraphina, forgive me if I have misstepped. I sense there is more to your story, more to the walls you have erected around yourself. And while I may not understand it completely, I am willing to learn, should you choose to share.”
Seraphina’s gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossing her features. She shook her head slightly, a mixture of sadness and determination in her eyes. “There are certain truths that must remain hidden, Lord Ashford.”
Tristan’s shoulders dropped slightly, a tinge of regret in his voice. “Very well, Lady Seraphina. I will respect your boundaries. But know that should you ever choose to trust someone with your secrets, I will be here, ready to listen. In the meantime, I accept your challenge, and my curiosity will only grow until our next encounter.”
With a final, fleeting glance, Seraphina turned away. Tristan watched her retreating figure, frustration and intrigue swirling within him. He had underestimated the complexities behind the “Unattainable Rose” of the ton, and he was determined to discover the truth hidden beneath her guarded facade. He had taken the bet on a whim for a bit of light-hearted fun, but now there was something else.
Seraphina made no sense to him. She was distant in their brief conversation, certainly, but it felt to him that she was only looking for a person willing to put in the proper work to get to know her better. Tristan could understand the desire to weed out the weak. If that was truly her intention, then she would be pleasantly surprised to learn that Tristan did not give up on his desires lightly.
It would be a pleasure to bend her to his whims and desires.
The sweetest honey was always found in the most difficult of hives, after all, and Tristan had a ravenous sweet tooth.
Chapter 5
Elizabeth tried very hard not to be a jealous woman. The last thing she would have ever wanted was to place herself in a position where she felt she was competing with her best friend. Seraphina claimed not to be interested in finding a husband, seemingly content with a future of spinsterhood, but Elizabeth did not feel the same. Seraphina could claim indifference all she wished, but that did not mean she did not turn the heads of every gentleman she walked past.
Elizabeth was not a woman who harboured any false sense of modesty. She knew she was an attractive woman and went to great lengths to properly maintain herself, but Seraphina was on another level entirely. A natural, effortless sort of beauty. Normally, it did not matter. But, when standing alone on the side of a ballroom with only her mother for company? Elizabeth sometimes had intrusive thoughts that she could not help.
She wished to dance.
Was that asking for so much? She wished to dance on the arm of a handsome gentleman helplessly in love with her. A head-over-heels sort of obsession would be ideal. If only the man whom she secretly desired was the romantic type. Yet, she knew Michael well enough to know that he would never take a wife. It did not matter how infatuated with him that she was. She would simply have to find another — something her mother was likely to start lecturing her on any moment now.
Right on cue.
“My dear Elizabeth,” Lady Diana began, her eyes filled with motherly concern, “this season is crucial for you. It is essential that you make a favourable impression on eligible suitors and secure a good match.”
Elizabeth nodded, understanding the gravity of her mother’s words. Her words were perfunctory and dry. “I know, Mother. I shall do my best to make a favourable impression.”
“You are a charming young woman with a bright future ahead,” Lady Diana continued, her voice carrying pride and worry. Mother’s attention seemed to shift to the dance floor where Seraphina and Lord Ashford shared a beautiful waltz. It was hard to look anywhere but them as they moved so well together. “However, I must caution you to avoid gentlemen with dubious reputations. Rakes like Lord Ashford can be captivating but can also bring unnecessary scandal to your name.”
“I assure you, Mother, I shall not entertain any attention from rakes,” Elizabeth replied firmly, a hint of determination in her eyes. “I value my reputation and would not want it tarnished by association with someone who does not take matters of the heart seriously.”
It was mostly true. Elizabeth could not say with any sort of certainty what she would do should Michael suddenly take an interest in her. She would never tell her mother, but he was always going to be something of a weakness for her.
Lady Diana smiled, seemingly relieved by her daughter’s sensible response. “I am glad to hear that, my dear. Your reputation is your most valuable asset, and you must protect it at all costs.”
Just as they were finishing their conversation, the very subject of their discussion made his presence known. Lord Michael Thorne, renowned rake and devilishly handsome centre of Elizabeth’s obsession, approached with a charming smile, bowing before Elizabeth. “Lady Elizabeth, may I have the honour of this dance?”
Mother would like for her to decline. She could feel the heat of her mother’s accusatory stare as it was obvious that Elizabeth was intent to defy her wishes instantly. She tried to place her hand on her daughter’s arm to keep her in place, but Elizabeth easily shrugged out of her hold.
Elizabeth returned Michael’s smile, stars in her eyes as her worries were momentarily forgotten. “Of course, Lord Thorne. I would be delighted to dance with you.”
As the soft strains of the dance began to fill the air, Elizabeth’s heart fluttered nervously in her chest. She had been infatuated with Michael for what seemed like an eternity, and now, dancing with him, she could not help feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, and she worried that her nerves might betray her. He was unlikely ever to see her as anything more than a friend, but she could not help holding out hope that someday, magically, he would see her as something more.
Michael, ever the attentive partner, noticed her nerves and offered her an encouraging smile. Honestly, it ought to be criminal that he was as dashing as he was.
“Fear not, Lady Elizabeth,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “You are in safe hands. Just follow my lead, and we shall glide across the floor with grace.”
His charm and confidence eased Elizabeth’s anxiety somewhat, and she was guided skillfully by Michael’s expert dance steps. His touch was gentle and supportive, and any worries about stepping on his toes quickly faded away. Instead, Elizabeth was swept away by the music and the pleasure of dancing with the man she secretly admired.
As they twirled gracefully, Elizabeth allowed herself to steal glances at Michael’s handsome features. His striking green eyes held a spark of mischief, and his smile was enough to make her heart skip a beat. With every turn and spin, she felt herself falling deeper into the enchantment of the moment.
“You are a wonderful dancer, Lady Elizabeth,” Michael complimented, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. “I always mean to say it, but the eloquence of thought translated into words has never been my strong suit.”
