Not that it sparked jealousy in Charlotte, but irritation—definitely. In such a mood, she had no desire to dance, nor did she expect an invitation. To distract herself, the countess idly surveyed the hall adorned with flowers and tried to enjoy the music. It never crossed her mind that, at that very moment, someone was intently watching her every move and breath, captivated by the rise and fall of her chest beneath the corset’s neckline.
Edwin felt an inexplicable thrill as his gaze caught the figure in a silvery gown. The unattainable beauty resembled a pearl amidst rubbish, and it would be a sin not to seize the chance to get a little closer. He shot a meaningful glance at his brother before striding confidently toward Charlotte.
“May I have the honor?” The duke bowed with deliberate courtesy and extended a hand adorned with several rings.
Caught off guard, Charlotte faltered. She lifted a surprised gaze, as if an invitation to dance were some kind of mistake.
“Do me the favor,” Edwin repeated, gracing her with a smile and a tender look she hadn’t anticipated.
It all happened so suddenly! Within a moment, they were standing in the middle of the brightly lit hall. As was customary at such gatherings, the ball opened with a pavane, where everyone moved gracefully and leisurely, showcasing their finery to those around them. Young ladies-in-waiting seemed to accidentally reveal more than just the tip of a slipper, while gentlemen eagerly awaited the chance to toss out a witty or suggestive remark.
Edwin was no exception. He moved with ease, and his conversation flowed so naturally that soon his partner forgot her stiffness. Each time their hands met during a step, she felt an inexplicable shiver and responded with something off-topic, eliciting an unconcealed smile on his handsome face.
For the first time in years, Charlotte enjoyed a ball. Before the first dance even ended, the music struck up again, inviting couples to a galliard. Pairs lined up in two rows facing each other, and the countess noted that up close, the duke was even more striking. He had impeccable posture, a noble face, and—most of all—eyes that never left her, filled with admiration.
In such company, Countess Ross Jones quickly forgot she was a court lady and a married woman, not a giddy sixteen-year-old girl. She felt lighthearted, her heart dancing to the rhythm of the music, and that same flush of color bloomed on her cheeks, enhancing her beauty.
Edwin was openly enchanted. As he escorted his partner back to her place, he made no effort to hide his delight. He had already led her to the center of the hall when an unexpected plan formed in his mind.
“May I ask for just one more minute of your time?” he inquired in a conspiratorial tone, leaning close to her ear. “I must confess to a crime. No, don’t look at me with such horror—though my fault isn’t too grave, I feel the need to repent! The truth is, I’ve been shamelessly watching you since the start of the banquet, yet you haven’t glanced my way even once. Why? I console myself only with the thought that the roses must hold far more interest for you.”
The countess was terribly flustered and couldn’t find a response, allowing Edwin to draw his own conclusions.
“If silence is a sign of consent, permit me to offer you a gift! Which roses here do you think are the finest? I’m clueless about such things and don’t want to come off as an indifferent fool.”
“You place too much trust in my opinion,” Charlotte replied, unable to meet his eyes. She was encountering such blatant flirtation for the first time and didn’t know how to deflect it without drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m certain His Highness Richard has the best taste in the kingdom. You should discuss it with him.”
“So you won’t help me? I’m in a desperate spot, unless I leave it to fate and act on impulse!” Edwin reached out, plucked a random rose from a nearby vase, and brought it to his lips. “May I?”
With a mischievous grin, Edwin tucked the flower into her hair and gave a playful bow. The gesture was so telling that it made Charlotte blush fiercely and sparked an immediate urge to flee! Half the ladies-in-waiting were watching the scene, and she had no doubt how they interpreted it. The young duke’s antics instantly fueled gossip: a flower in her hair—so romantic, so suggestive, and so bold on His Grace’s part!
For Edwin, the round was won, but it was only the first step. He no longer doubted that the countess’s heart wasn’t indifferent, and soon her defenses would crumble. On top of that, he intended to continue the tour and show her other, equally splendid corners of the estate. But to his annoyance, he spotted Derek’s figure approaching them with a casual stride.
Releasing the lady’s hand, Edwin declared without a hint of embarrassment, as if continuing a prior thought:
“If anyone pesters you, just say that all the remaining dances at this ball are taken, and I wish to see you as my partner. I doubt anyone would dare cross ME!” He shot a challenging look at Derek. “Of course, Count, all rights remain yours!”
With that, the conversation ended, and an iron grip seized Charlotte’s arm. As soon as the duke walked away, her husband leaned close to her ear:
“What was that?! Have you decided to make a cuckold of me, my lady? Be warned, I won’t forgive that to anyone, not even a prince of the blood!” His dark eyes met the duke’s blue ones across the room. Edwin nodded mockingly and raised his glass, as if reading the count’s thoughts. In response, Derek also lifted his glass and drained it in one gulp.
“You freed yourself so quickly just to accuse me of betrayal?” Charlotte struggled in vain to free her fingers from his grasp. “And what about your old acquaintance? Won’t she be upset that you abandoned her for your wife?”
“What, are you jealous?! Was this your little feminine revenge?” Derek looked at his wife with such astonishment, as if he’d only just met her. “I was sure my face had bored you so much that staring at the ceiling would be more interesting! So you actually noticed my absence? I’m flattered. As for the woman you mentioned, she just wanted to share a funny story…”
“I’m sure! Like all your flings, she’s as dumb as a post!”
This outburst of irritation genuinely amused the count. He laughed so infectiously that Charlotte couldn’t maintain her angry expression for long.
“I must admit, you’re right!” he said sincerely. “I should’ve noticed long ago that my wife isn’t just incredibly beautiful but also smarter than most women. Perhaps I shouldn’t leave you alone.” At that moment, the music started up again, and Derek made a chivalrous gesture entirely unlike him. “May I have this dance, my lady? Now I’ll have the chance to make a dozen bows to you.”
A branle began, and all the guests formed a circle. During the dance, pairs constantly switched places, and as if by magic, the young duke found himself beside Charlotte again. When their hands met, Edwin allowed himself a little too much—he squeezed her fingers instead of merely brushing palms.
They crossed paths two or three times, and each time Edwin set a subtle trap for the charming countess, openly displaying his interest. He had no doubt that tonight he could claim the prize he desired. Caught up in a fever of infatuation, he paid no heed to her jealous husband. Tales of Ross Jones’s escapades were legendary, but his wife remained untouchable, and that was intoxicating.
Witnessing everything, Derek was furious. That someone would dare set their sights on Charlotte right here, in his presence, crossed a line! If it were anyone else, the offended count would have run them through or throttled them on the spot. But clashing with a prince was far too risky.
Fortunately, Richard wasn’t in the mood to dance for long that evening. Soon, he decided to satisfy his appetite and signaled the start of dinner. The guests streamed into the dining hall and took their places at the lavishly set table, where footmen stood ready to fill plates and pour the finest wine into crystal goblets.
As Charlotte settled into her chair, the rose still adorning her hair caught Derek’s eye. It took only a second for him to realize where it had come from. His fingers snatched the bloom from her locks, and it fell to the floor, crushed under his heavy boot. Charlotte looked up at her husband and met an icy glare.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, my lady, but the image of a brainless shepherdess doesn’t suit you,” Derek commented, not missing the reaction of the duke, whose smile vanished. “It’s time to end this charade. After dinner, we’re heading home.”
It was the best decision, but it clashed with the desires of His Highness Richard. His younger brother, whose evening had been spoiled by the count’s interference, decided not to remain in debt and chose one of the easiest ways to retaliate—he issued a challenge. As Derek approached to take his leave after the meal, Edwin gazed at Charlotte with tenderness and sorrow he couldn’t conceal.
“My lady,” he said in a velvety voice, suppressing a sigh, “our acquaintance has been a great joy to me. I hope for a continuation, but tonight I dare not detain you. As for you, Count, I won’t let you go! A dispute has arisen that only your presence can settle. I’ve been told that at the Easter celebration, someone drank eight glasses of wine, but I don’t believe it.” The duke smiled, spreading his hands. “Of course, you have the right to refuse. I won’t insist. I’ll just have to pay up on my loss—I placed a bet on you, you see.”
“You placed a bet on me, Your Grace?” Derek raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed, I’m a gambling man! And your reputation, Count, precedes you!”
“In that case, I accept the challenge. Darling, don’t wait up for me—go to bed,” he said with a smirk, looking straight into his rival’s eyes. Without another word, he returned to the hall side by side with His Grace.