“Please, darling, try to be a bit more discreet! I don’t want you drawing too much attention,” Count Derek Ross Jones said, lounging in his favorite armchair with his feet propped up on the table. He was already on his fifth glass of wine, sipping it with casual ease.
Charlotte froze, a necklace dangling from her hands, and glanced at her husband—or rather, at his reflection in the mirror.
“Don’t let it bother you. This trip brings me no joy whatsoever,” she replied coolly.
“Is that so? May I ask why?” He set down his empty glass, his eyes playing over the sight before him. When Charlotte was angry, a vivid flush colored her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with a fire that lent her a particular charm. “Why does a young, beautiful woman prefer to bury herself in silly books or linger in church instead of dancing at a ball? What’s wrong with you, Lettie?”
“Are you trying to wound me as deeply as possible?” She turned slowly, only to find herself face-to-face with her husband’s towering figure. He had risen and now gripped her shoulders firmly.
“Not at all! I’m trying to shake you up, my lady, to breathe some life into you—if that’s even possible! I don’t think this will come as news to you, but I happen to like my own wife. I’d much rather see a smile on your face than that saintly, icon-like expression!”
The wine had made Derek far too candid. His wife’s profound indifference stung him deeply, and she didn’t even bother to hide it. He seized her chin, his wild, dark eyes burning into hers. Her chest heaved with indignation beneath the tight neckline of her gown. She opened her mouth to spit out something venomous, but instead, she was ensnared by his shameless lips. Pushing against his powerful frame with all her might, Charlotte soon yielded to the pressure. The moment her resistance faded, Derek released her, striding back to his chair and collapsing into it with a satisfied smirk.
“No need to rush,” he declared, reaching for his bottle again. “They say Richard has some fine private quarters. If you don’t come down with another headache, we might just find out together. And if not… well, the world is full of wonders and adventures, as they say!”
Such a prelude did little to bring the young couple closer. Tales of the count’s escapades were the stuff of legend, and he made no effort to conceal them. Sometimes, Charlotte marveled at the lack of discernment in his lovers. She couldn’t fathom what they saw in a man with such looks and temperament.
Spanish blood coursed through Derek’s veins, and he often joked that “gypsies had left him on someone’s doorstep.” Charlotte herself had never been swept off her feet by the man who had married her for her dowry—or so everyone who saw them together believed. The newlyweds were simply too different.
As a young girl, Charlotte had devoured romance novels and poetry, dreaming of tender love, sweet kisses, and unwavering fidelity. Instead, she got… well, this. The sixteen-year age gap was the least of it. Tall, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, her husband was sharp-tongued and mocking. He could snap a rival’s spine with one hand and down several bottles of wine without staggering. As for matters of the bedroom, she recoiled from Derek’s tempestuous nature. In their year of marriage, they had shared a bed no more than seven times.
She sighed impatiently, forcing herself to shake off the gloom. Now that all her dreams had shattered, all that remained was to resign herself to his indifference and betrayals.
These somber thoughts accompanied the young beauty on the journey to their liege lord’s estate, a trip spent in complete silence. Charlotte wrapped herself in a fur-lined cloak, occasionally glancing at her husband, who began to doze off to the steady rocking of the carriage. Derek was the perfect companion for His Highness Richard “the Lecherous,” which was likely why no celebration or hunt ever took place without him.
Tonight, he would undoubtedly get drunk again, toss around crude jokes, and make his wife blush in front of the guests. Charlotte expected nothing else from the upcoming ball and was already dreading the ordeal. Unfortunately, there would be no elegant dances with refined gentlemen, so the only consolation was showing off her gown and jewelry. And, for one evening, she could play the “puritan” and turn a deaf ear to any suggestive remarks.
While these dreary thoughts swirled in the countess’s mind, the carriage approached a grand estate that caught the eye even from a distance. The entrance was framed by an arch, and the winding road beyond was flanked by tall trees standing like sentinels. Torches already blazed near the entrance, where lavishly dressed servants greeted and ushered in the guests. Laughter and loud chatter filled the air, while in the adjacent hall, tables laden with food awaited.
The new arrivals made their way through the crowded hall to greet the prince. His Highness Richard’s country estate was meant for an intimate circle of guests, not designed for such lavish gatherings. Between the elaborate gowns of the ladies-in-waiting and the bustling staff, there was hardly room to breathe. Charlotte maintained her poise, wearing a practiced smile as she walked beside her husband, occasionally nodding to acquaintances.
She didn’t miss the attention of the ladies whose eyes followed Derek, nor the whispers and subtle hints from those he had already “favored” in the past. It was all tedious and predictable—except for one thing. Beside Richard stood a new face, and this guest couldn’t help but catch her interest. The man met her gaze and responded without turning his head.
“I see someone new at the banquet has piqued your curiosity,” Derek remarked. “To avoid any awkward misunderstandings, allow me to inform you—that’s Edwin Bowdie, Duke of Lamar, the queen’s younger son. Not for your delicate ears, but there are rumors he’s a bastard, so he’s not in line for the throne. At least, not yet.”
“Quite the introduction,” Charlotte replied, eyeing the young duke with curiosity, not entirely believing her husband’s tale.
One thing was certain, though—she found at least one allure in this “bastard.” Compared to Richard, he was strikingly handsome. His light chestnut curls fell carelessly to his neck, framing a face with fine, chiseled features, while his blue eyes held the startling hue of forget-me-nots.
Noticing the newcomers, Richard acknowledged them with a slight nod in response to Derek’s greeting. Charlotte curtsied and offered a few words, expressing her sincere delight and gratitude for the invitation. The twenty-year-old duke, who had barely participated in the conversation, kept his eyes fixed on her the entire time. Under such intense scrutiny, she suddenly felt herself blushing. Fortunately, Derek didn’t notice, or she would have been the butt of his jokes for the rest of her days.
Meanwhile, Edwin, noting her signs of embarrassment, was pleasantly struck and overly intrigued by this untouchable flower at a ball of debauchery. A dreamy smile played across his handsome face, and it didn’t escape his older brother’s notice.
“Where are you staring off to?” Richard asked, grabbing another goblet of wine from a nearby table and following the couple with his eyes as they rejoined the other courtiers. A realization hit him instantly, prompting a skeptical smirk. “If Derek’s wife has caught your eye, forget it. Everyone knows she’s a puritan!”
“Are you so sure, dear brother? I’m inclined to disagree,” Edwin said, leaning close to Richard’s ear and whispering something with a conspiratorial air. His mood was rapidly lifting, and the banquet was taking on a new significance.
“I’ll bet a case of Fuldsian wine you won’t pull it off!” Richard laughed in response. “But, as always, you add a bit of intrigue to the evening, Edwin. Fine, I’ll take that bet!”
The arrival of his younger brother did, in fact, provide a bit of amusement for Richard, who was always eager for “special” adventures. He was already growing bored with the feast and the guests, who were wilting under the heat and stuffiness. Downing another glass, he decided to entertain himself and gave the signal to start the dancing.
The attendees slowly drifted into the adjacent hall as the musicians began tuning their instruments. As if on cue, Charlotte’s husband chose that exact moment to “leave her for just a minute” to speak with an old acquaintance—a charming blonde who coyly offered her hand for a kiss before walking off with Derek to a less crowded part of the hall.