Amanda StoNeS
Historical Regency Romance Author
The Baron's forbidden Bride
First Chapters
Chapter One
“Can you believe it has been three years since our debut, Chloe? Time flies by so quickly.”
Lady Chloe Swift stared at her best friend, Lady Seraphina Fairfax, across the table in the cozy, bustling atmosphere of Gunter’s tea shop. One of their favorite spots to gossip and escape the eyes of the expectations of their parents. Even if it was just for a while.
“Indeed, it does.” Chloe smiled wistfully, her fingers tracing the edge of her teacup as she thought about the last three Seasons. “And yet, it feels like an eternity when I think of the endless parade of balls and suitors that the Season entails. It is such hard work.”
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, setting her cup down. “You sound more weary than usual. What is troubling you?”
Chloe sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was within ear shot. “It is Father. The pressure he is placing on me to find a husband this Season is suffocating. He has such high hopes for me to marry someone of high rank and wealth. I feel like a prize he is trying to auction off to the highest bidder. I do not know what this Season will hold for me.”
Seraphina’s expression softened with empathy. “Your father does seem quite determined. But surely, he wants what is best for you?”
Chloe shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He wants what is best for the family, for our social standing. My happiness is secondary to his ambitions.”
“And by happiness, you mean…”
Seraphina did not need to finish that sentence. They both knew exactly what she was talking about. Lord Anthony James. The love of Chloe’s life. Her childhood best friend, who now seemed like a distant dream. His sudden departure years ago had left a void in her heart that no number of suitors could fill. No one compared, and there was nothing that Chloe could do to change that. Every single man that approached her, even for a dance, was instantly compared to him, whether that was what Chloe intended to do or not. And the worst thing was, no one ever even slightly came close.
“Do you ever think about him?” Seraphina’s voice was gentle, as if sensing the direction of Chloe’s thoughts.
Chloe nodded slowly. “Every day. His absence left me feeling abandoned and heart broken. I have never understood why he left so abruptly to go on a Grand Tour that he never talked about before. It is just so confusing.”
She never got closure, which might have been the hardest thing of all, especially since she had spent most of her youth dreaming about marrying him. Seraphina reached across the table and squeezed Chloe’s hand, offering silent support. Chloe’s thoughts began to drift, the gentle hum of the tea shop fading as her mind wandered to the wedding she had once imagined. She could see it clearly: a sun lit afternoon in late spring, the gardens of her family estate bursting with color and fragrance, delicate blooms of lavender and roses formed arches and garlands, filling the air with their sweet perfume.
Chloe imagined herself standing at the entrance of the estate chapel, the place where her parents and grandparents had wed, wearing a gown of ivory silk and lace that shimmered like the surface of a tranquil pond. Lord Anthony James, her Anthony, stood at the altar, his eyes alight with the same mischievous sparkle she had adored since they were children. His dark hair was neatly styled, and he wore a suit that accentuated his tall, lean frame. He smiled at her, that smile that always made her heart flutter, as she walked slowly down the aisle on her father’s arm.
The guests, a blend of their families and closest friends, turned to watch her, their faces reflecting the joy and admiration they felt for the couple. They would be the sort of couple so in love that it made everyone in their lives jealous. They would be the couple that everyone else wanted to be.
As Chloe imagined Anthony taking her hand at the altar, she could almost hear the vicar’s voice echoing through the chapel: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
Her heart ached with the bitter sweet beauty of the memory that never was. She envisioned the way Anthony’s hand would feel, warm and reassuring, as he slipped the ring on to her finger. The vows they would exchange, words filled with promises and dreams for their future together. She had dreamed about it far too much, and losing that dream had killed her. It was still a feeling that she had very much not recovered from.
“Do you think he will ever return?” Seraphina asked, shaking her from her thoughts.
Chloe sighed heavily. “I do not know. Sometimes, I imagine that he will simply stroll back into my life and it will be as if he never left, and other times…” Now this part was much harder for her to say, but she truly did need her friend’s advice. “Sometimes I think he will marry a beautiful woman that he meets on his travels, and I will never see those sparkling blue eyes of his again.”
It crushed her, the idea made her heart physically hurt, but it was also a possibility that she absolutely had to accept, if she ever wanted to move on with her life.
Seraphina reached across the table and placed a comforting hand over Chloe’s. “Oh Chloe, I wish I could say something to ease your mind, but I understand how you feel. The heart wants what it wants, regardless of reason or practicality.”
Chloe looked at her friend, appreciating the understanding in her eyes. “I know. And it is not just the memories that haunt me. It is the uncertainty of the future. I can not help but wonder if I am holding on to a ghost.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the chime of the tea shop’s doorbell. Both women glanced over to see who had entered, but it was just another group of ladies from their social circle, nothing out of the ordinary.
Chloe returned her gaze to Seraphina. “Sometimes, I wish I could just run away from it all. Escape the expectations and the relentless search for a husband that fits Father’s criteria.”
Seraphina gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know. It is not easy. I struggle, and I am not under the same pressure as you at all. I do not have a man from my past that I am clinging on to.”
Chloe slid her eyes closed for just a second, allowing herself to travel back in time for a second. This time to a cherished childhood memory that she had shared with Anthony. She could almost feel the grass underneath her and the sun beaming down on her shoulders as she watched Anthony, glistening in the sun light as he skipped pebbles along the water of his family’s pond.
“You are very good at that,” Chloe giggled.
She had always been impressed by him, she liked everything that he did. Just being in his presence always made her feel warm and excitable.
“Have a try.” Anthony picked up a smooth, flat stone and handed it to Chloe, his fingers brushing against hers and sending a small shiver down her spine. That shiver was a sensation that she would remember for the rest of her life.
“I do not know what to do,” she told him.
“Not to worry,,” Anthony chuckled. “I will show you.”
He patiently showed her how to hold the pebble and flick her wrist to make it skip. “Like this, Chloe,” Anthony said, demonstrating the technique with a smooth, practiced motion.
The stone leaped across the water, creating a series of ripples that expanded outward. Chloe’s eyes sparkled with determination as she mimicked his movements. Her first attempt sent the stone plopping unceremoniously into the water. Anthony laughed. The sound was infectious, and Chloe could not help but join in.
“You will get the hang of it,” he assured her, picking up another pebble. “Try again.”
Anthony’s warm smile and gentle words filled her with determination, encouraging her to try again. And again, and again.
“Oh my,” she gasped. “I do not know if I will ever be able to do this!”
Anthony laughed, shaking his head. “Nonsense, Chloe. Just keep trying. You have always been the most persistent person I know.”
Chloe smiled, her heart swelling at his words. “Well, I am lucky to have you as a teacher.”
She picked up another pebble, determined to get it right. With a flick of her wrist, the stone skipped once, twice, and then sank. But it was progress, and Anthony’s approving nod made it all the more rewarding. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the estate, they made a pact to always be there for each other, sealing their promise with a pinky swear.
“No matter what happens, we will always have each other,” Anthony said, his eyes shining with sincerity.
Chloe nodded, her heart swelling with the depth of their connection. “Always.”
Seraphina gently squeezed Chloe’s hand, bringing her back to the present moment. “The right gentleman will come along, Chloe. One who will appreciate your wit, beauty, and kind heart.”
Chloe smiled, grateful for her friend’s support, but a part of her could not help but wonder if that gentleman might be Anthony.
And it might already be too late…
Chapter Two
Lord Anthony James finally stepped back through the grand front door of his family’s London town house, a strange sensation settling over him as he inhaled deeply. The familiar scent of polished wood and lavender greeted him like an old friend. He might have been away on his Grand Tour for many years now, but the moment he stepped inside the house, it was as if he had never left.
“Anthony!” It did not take long for his mother to realize that he was home at long last.
“Mother,” he chuckled. “I have returned.”
Lady Leonora James hurried towards him, excitement flooding her face as she raced to greet him. His younger twin sisters, Hannah and Caroline, followed close behind, their faces lighting up at the sight of him. In that moment, he realized that he had been gone for far too long. He might have been many exciting places in the world, but there was nowhere quite like home.
“I have missed you,” Anthony declared, his voice thick with emotion as he enveloped his mother in a warm embrace. “I am so grateful to finally be home.”
She held him tightly, as if afraid he might vanish again.
“Oh, how we have missed you,” Leonora murmured, stepping back to look at him, her eyes shining with tears. “It has been far too long since you have been home.”
Before Anthony could respond, Hannah and Caroline flung themselves at him, their arms wrapping around him in a flurry of laughter and tears.
“Anthony, you are finally back!” Caroline exclaimed, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “It is so good to see you.”
“We have so much to tell you,” Hannah added, her eyes wide with happiness. “Do you have any gifts for us?”
“Of course! As if I would return without gifts. Come on, let us sit down and I will show you what I have.”
In the drawing room, Anthony presented his mother and sisters with delicate lace shawls from his travels, each one carefully chosen to suit their individual tastes. For his mother, he had chosen subdued colors, sweet like her. One that would keep her warm even on the coldest of days. For Hannah, he had gone much brighter, to suit her bold spirit. The lace patterns were more intricate, more complicated. More exciting, because she had an adventurous spirit, one that reminded him of himself. And for Caroline, he had chosen pastel shades because of the way that she always had her head in the clouds, day dreaming. It was one that she could wrap herself up in while reading yet another romance novel.
Leonora took her shawl with a gasp of delight, before she immediately wrapped it around her shoulders. “Oh, Anthony, it is beautiful. Thank you.”
Hannah and Caroline eagerly took theirs, their eyes wide with wonder and admiration.
“Where did you get these?” Hannah demanded. “I would love to hear all about your travels.”
“Me too,” Caroline agreed. “This is utterly beautiful.”
Anthony settled into the comfortable chair that he had missed so much, his heart warming at the sight of his family’s joy. In this moment, he never wanted to leave London again.
“I found them in a bustling market in Venice,” he began, a smile spreading across his face. “The colors and craftsmanship were exquisite, and I knew they would be perfect for each of you. I, of course, was thinking about you the whole time that I was away.”
“You must tell us more about Venice,” Caroline said, her voice filled with awe. “It sounds so magical.”
“It truly is,” Anthony replied, his eyes twinkling with fond memories. “The canals, the architecture, the art… it is like stepping in to another world. I really did enjoy exploring Italy. It is nothing like England. Nothing at all.”
Lady Leonora smiled, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “It sounds enchanting. Did you visit any other places in Italy?”
“Indeed, I did,” Anthony replied. “I visited Florence, where I was mesmerized by the art in the Uffizi Gallery. The paintings and sculptures there are masterpieces beyond anything I had ever seen. I also ventured to Rome, where the ruins of the Colosseum and the grandeur of the Vatican left me in awe. Each city had its own unique charm and history.”
There was a little twang in his chest. He had enjoyed his travels and had most certainly learned a lot about himself along the way. But he was still very grateful to be home.
“Where else?” Hannah demanded. “It must not have been just Italy. What other souvenirs did you bring back?”
Anthony chuckled. “I actually have a small collection of trinkets and mementos from each place I visited. From Paris, I brought back a set of delicate porcelain figurines. From Vienna, a music box that plays the most beautiful waltz. And from Greece, a set of hand painted pottery.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “A music box? Can we see it?”
“Of course,” Anthony said, retrieving the ornate box from his travel bag.
He opened it, and a soft, melodious tune filled the room. Anthony could see the girls losing themselves in the music, just as he had done when he first heard it.
“One of the most thrilling parts of my journey was sailing along the Mediterranean coast,” he continued as the music played. “The crystal-clear waters and the vibrant marine life were breathtaking. I even had the chance to dive and explore some underwater ruins near the coast of Crete. It was like being in a whole different world.”
“Did you see any mermaids?” Caroline gasped.
Anthony shot her a playful wink. “I can not be sure. Mermaids are not easy to spot, but I did see a flickering purple tail as I swam.”
Caroline’s eyes glazed over, probably already imagining what it was like for Anthony to see such magic around the world. And it did feel like magic. At the time, he had been thrilled to see a world outside of London society and the ton, but now it was time to get back to reality. Whatever that was going to look like. Anthony’s stories captivated his family, each tale bringing a spark of wonder to their eyes.
“Did you make any new friends on your travels?” Hannah asked, her curiosity insatiable.
Anthony nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Yes, indeed. I met many fascinating people, each with their own stories and perspectives. There was Pierre, a French artist with a passion for capturing the essence of everyday life in his paintings. And then there was Elena, a Greek historian who could recount the myths and legends of her homeland with such vivid detail that you felt as if you were living them.”
Caroline leaned in, her eyes wide. “Did you meet anyone special?”
A flicker of a smile played at Anthony’s lips as he thought of the people he had encountered. “Special in their own ways, yes. But no one quite like those I left behind.”
Leonora, watching her son with a mix of pride and curiosity, gently touched his arm. “And what about your heart, Anthony? Have your travels helped you find clarity?”
Anthony looked into his mother’s eyes, feeling the weight of her question. “I believe they have, Mother. I have seen so much and learned even more. But in all my travels, there was always a part of me that longed for the familiarity and love of home.”
Hannah and Caroline exchanged knowing glances, their excitement barely contained.
“Does that mean you will stay for good?” Caroline asked, hope lacing her words.
Anthony smiled, his heart full. “For now, I am home. I have missed you all more than words can say. And there is much to catch up on.”
The conversation drifted to the upcoming social Season, the balls, and the gatherings that were sure to follow Anthony’s return. Leonora spoke of the many invitations that had already started to pour in, eagerly anticipating his presence. Anthony was not entirely sure how to feel about the Season. He had not returned to London, eager to throw himself back in to society. But it was springtime, there was nothing that he could do about it.
“We will have to find you a suitable match, Anthony,” Leonora said with a twinkle in her eye. “There are many young ladies who would be delighted to meet you.”
Anthony chuckled, though his thoughts wandered to Chloe Swift. He wondered how she had fared during his absence. Had she found someone who cherished her as much as he always had? The thought stirred something deep within him, a longing that had never truly faded…
As the evening wore on and the James family basked in their reunion, Anthony’s heart remained divided. The adventures of his Grand Tour had given him many things: knowledge, experience, and a broader perspective. But there was a part of him that still yearned for the simplicity and joy of his past with Chloe. He had never given up those memories, and it left him curious…
Would she remember their promise to always be there for each other? And if she did, could they rekindle what they once had, or had too much time passed? Did it even matter? Anthony had left for a reason, and that was not something that would ever change. These questions lingered in Anthony’s mind as he tried to mentally prepare for the inevitable return to society that came with his return to London. The Season promised excitement, challenges, and perhaps, the answers he sought.
As the night deepened, the girls eventually went off to bed, their chatter and excitement still lingering in the air. Anthony and his mother remained in the drawing room, the fire casting a warm glow around them.
Leonora looked at her son, her expression softening. “Anthony, I am so glad you are home. But I know it is not just for the social Season that you have returned.”
Anthony nodded, his demeanor growing somber. “Yes, Mother. I came back because I know it is time for me to take on the responsibilities of the estate. With Father gone, it is my duty to ensure everything runs smoothly.”
Leonora’s eyes filled with sorrow at the mention of her late husband. “Your father was so proud of you, Anthony. He always spoke of how he knew you would be a wonderful steward of our family’s legacy.”
“I hope to make him proud,” Anthony said quietly, feeling the weight of his father’s expectations settling on his shoulders. “I regret not being here for his final days. It was a difficult time for you and the girls, and I should have been here.”
“You were following your path,” Leonora replied gently, placing a hand on his. “Your father understood that, and he wanted you to see the world. He believed it would make you a better man and a better leader. Do not forget, your father used to sit here, just like this, sharing stories of his own travels. He was not surprised that you wanted to follow in his path.
Anthony smiled, the warmth of his mother’s words enveloping him. “He did have a talent for storytelling. I remember sitting by his side, completely enraptured by his tales of far-off lands and daring adventures.”
Leonora’s eyes sparkled with fond memories. “Do you recall the story he used to tell about the time he climbed the Matterhorn? He would describe the sheer cliffs and the treacherous paths as if they were just outside our door.”
Anthony chuckled. “Yes, and how he almost lost his hat to a sudden gust of wind at the summit. He always made it sound so dramatic, as if the hat was the most valuable thing in the world.”
“It is so hard without him here,” Lenora sighed. “Sometimes I do not know how we are going to survive.”
Anthony sighed, his heart heavy. “It has been a lot to process, Mother. But I am here now, and I am ready to do whatever it takes to honor Father’s memory and take care of our family. We will be just fine, I will make you proud.”
Leonora smiled, her eyes shining with pride and love. “I know you will, Anthony. And remember, you are not alone. We are all here to support you.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Anthony said, squeezing her hand. “That means everything to me.”
Chapter Three
The grand ballroom of Almack’s Assembly Rooms shimmered with opulence as the Season finally came to life in front of Chloe’s eyes. Chloe had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their myriad prisms casting a warm, golden light that danced across the room, over the sea of excitable aristocratic faces. The walls were adorned with elaborate gilded moldings and intricate plaster work, the delicate patterns winding gracefully around the room like the threads of a golden tapestry. Rich, velvet draperies in deep shades of burgundy and royal blue framed the tall windows, their heavy folds adding to the sense of luxury that flooded the room. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, their vibrant arrangements adorning every corner and table, their blooms carefully chosen to reflect the Season’s finest. At one end of the ballroom, a raised dais held the musicians, a small orchestra whose melodies filled the room with a harmonious blend of strings, woodwinds, and the occasional soft flourish of a harp. The music was both lively and refined, perfectly suited to the sophisticated atmosphere of Almack’s. It was perfect, and yet…
Chloe was thoroughly not enjoying herself.
She moved gracefully through the crowd, her pale blue silk gown swishing softly around her feet. The delicate embroidery of the gown accentuated her petite figure, and her golden curls framed her face like a halo, drawing admiring glances from many in attendance. Despite the external admiration, her heart was heavy with the pressure to secure a suitable match, an unyielding expectation from her father. He had been very firm with her that morning, that she was to make a good impression, and now she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, a silent reminder of her duty. A duty that she could not shake off, however hard she tried.
She sighed softly, wishing for the freedom to follow her own heart rather than the rigid path laid out for her. She even wished that she did not have to be here tonight, at this ball. She would have much rather been at home, daydreaming about the ghost from her past…
“Lady Swift, might I have the honor of this dance?” A smooth voice interrupted her thoughts. Chloe turned to find Lord Daniel Thompson, bowing elegantly before her. Now this was a man that her father would like for her. So of course she could not refuse.
“Of course, Lord Thompson,” Chloe replied with a practiced smile, extending her hand to him.
Daniel took her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom, where the other couples were already gliding gracefully across the polished floor. His touch was light, but firm, and he exuded an air of confidence that commanded attention. Tall and impeccably dressed in a black tail coat, Daniel moved with an elegance and precision that spoke of years of refinement and practice.
As they began to dance, Chloe could not help but notice how perfectly he fit the image of the ideal suitor. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his chiseled features were softened by the warmth in his deep blue eyes. There was a charm about him that was hard to ignore, a charm that made him a favorite among the ladies of the ton. And yet…
He was simply not the man for her. She did not even need this dance to know that he would never be the man for her.
As the music began, Chloe moved with grace, her steps light and fluid. Just as she was taught to do when she was forced to take endless dance lessons as a child. Lord Thompson’s grip was firm, his movements precise, yet she felt no warmth in his touch. Her mind wandered to Anthony, as it often did during moments like these. How different it had been to dance with him, to feel the genuine affection and unspoken connection that had always existed between them.
Now those were dances that she would always remember…
But of course, Anthony was not here to dance with her tonight. She could not forget that he had cruelly abandoned her.
“You look ravishing tonight, Lady Chloe,” Lord Thompson remarked, his gaze lingering on her. “It is no wonder you are the toast of the Season.”
Toast of the Season?
Chloe was sure that was not a title that had been bestowed upon her, but of course, she did not wish to be rude either.
“Thank you, Lord Thompson,” Chloe replied, her smile tight. “That is very kind of you to say.”
She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine, and not from the cold. She simply did not have any connection with this man, and never would, and there was no way that she could force it. As the dance ended and Lord Thompson led her back to the edge of the ballroom, Chloe excused herself, claiming a need for refreshment.
She moved swiftly to the refreshment table, seeking a moment of respite from the suffocating atmosphere. She took a glass of lemonade, its coolness a welcome relief against the heat of the crowded room. But she was not to be left alone for long. It was mere moments before Mr. Gregory Havisham was beside her.
“Lady Swift, may I have the honor of this next dance?”
His voice was more kind, and his smile more genuine, but Chloe knew that his charm was not sincere. He did not intend to settle down, and even if he did, it was unlikely that her father would approve, for he carried a reputation that was far from spotless. Known for his gambling habits and a string of fleeting romantic entanglements, he was not considered a stable or serious match by the standards of the ton. But still, she agreed to dance with him.
As they took to the floor, Chloe found herself comparing him to Anthony again, as she had with so many others. As she could not stop herself from doing. Gregory was amiable, his conversation light and entertaining, but he lacked the depth and sincerity she admired in Anthony. Without that, what would they share? She would never be able to have a true bond with him.
“Lady Swift, you seem rather pensive this evening,” Gregory observed as they twirled gracefully.
“Do I?” Chloe forced a smile. “Perhaps it is just the weight of the Season’s expectations.”
“Ah, the infamous pressures of Almack’s,” Gregory said with a wry grin. “Do not let them trouble you too much. You are a jewel among us, Lady Swift.”
Chloe’s smile faltered as she thought of the real jewel in her heart.
The evening wore on, and Chloe dutifully danced with several more gentlemen, each one blending in to the next in a blur of polite conversation and measured steps. Her father’s approving nods from across the room did little to lift her spirits. The weight of her duty pressed heavily upon her, the prospect of a loveless marriage looming ever larger.
What would she do if she did not find a husband this Season? What would her father do? It did not bear thinking about.
Once she was given a moment alone, Chloe quickly scanned the room and spotted Sera standing near the edge of the dance floor, engaged in conversation with a group of young ladies. She made her way towards her friend, weaving through the throngs of elegantly dressed guests, needing to talk to the one person in the room who she was sure really understood her. As she approached, she caught Sera’s eye and gave a small, urgent nod. Sera excused herself from the group and met Chloe near the refreshment table.
“Oh my,” Seraphina gasped. “Tonight is quite the start to the Season, is it not?”
Chloe did not even have an answer to that. It might have only just begun, but she was already thoroughly exhausted.
“I do not think that I can dance another step,” she confessed. “How much longer must we tolerate this?”
Seraphina grimaced. “Unfortunately, this is only the beginning.”
Chloe groaned, before they both laughed. If they did not laugh about it, then Chloe might cry. She most certainly did not think that her father would approve if she burst in to tears, and unfortunately, she knew that his eyes were on her the whole time. No matter where he was in the room, or what he was doing, his eyes were on her.
Seraphina gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know it feels unbearable, Chloe. But remember, we are not alone in this. Almost every girl here feels the same pressure.”
Chloe sighed, glancing around at the other young ladies, each seemingly lost in their own world of expectation and duty.
“I wish there were another way,” she murmured. “Something more than this endless parade of forced smiles and shallow conversations.”
Any other way would be better than this.
Anything at all.
***
Julian was bored.
He always found these kinds of events thoroughly boring. As he stood at the edge of the opulent ballroom, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with a cold, calculating intensity, he realized that there was no one here that he wanted to talk to. Unfortunately, everyone always wanted to talk to him.
The chandelier’s light glittered off his perfectly tailored coat and the medals that adorned his chest, which he knew would add to his imposing presence. He observed the fluttering gowns, the sparkling jewels, and the forced laughter that echoed through the room. Each face, each conversation, was analyzed and categorized within seconds. Much as he was bored, he could not deny to himself that he thrived in this environment, a battle field of social maneuvers where he always emerged victorious.
As Julian took a sip from his crystal glass, his gaze lingered on the couples twirling on the dance floor. The sight of their carefree expressions only deepened his sense of ennui. He could easily predict the motivations behind each smile, the hidden agendas behind every polite exchange. It was a game he had mastered long ago, one that no longer offered any real challenge. His eyes narrowed as he spotted a cluster of young ladies, their laughter like the tinkling of delicate glass. Among them stood Lady Chloe Swift, daughter of the Earl of Hadleigh.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Lord Frampton’s face as he observed her. Chloe was the epitome of grace and beauty, her golden hair cascading in soft curls around a porcelain face. She was petite, with an elegance that seemed to come naturally, her expressive green eyes drawing him in even from a distance. The fact that she remained unmarried after two Seasons intrigued him. There must be more to her than the pretty face and charming demeanor. His mind raced with the possibilities as he watched her from across the room. Chloe represented more than just an alliance with the influential Swift family; she was a prize, a symbol of his power and control.
Julian adjusted his cuff links, his movements deliberate and measured as an idea popped in to his mind. Perhaps there was a way that he could make this night so much more interesting for himself. He moved towards Chloe with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his smile widening as he approached her. The crowd seemed to part before him, the other guests instinctively stepping aside as he made his way across the ballroom. He was about to claim her as his own, and he could not wait.
The boredom that was over coming him before dissolved. In its place, a desire to claim. A desire to remind everyone in the room that he was always a force to be reckoned with. Of course, she would be thrilled as well. Any lady he turned his attention to was always happy, as were their parents, that was one of the great things about being a duke.
He approached Chloe with calculated charm, his movements smooth and unhurried. He was a master of these encounters, and he knew exactly how to make an impression that would linger long after the night was over.
“Lady Chloe Swift,” Lord Frampton’s voice was smooth, his eyes locking on to hers with an intensity that left little room for doubt about his intentions as soon as he was in ear shot. “I must say, you are even more enchanting in person than the rumors suggest.”
Chloe turned towards him, her smile polite but guarded. She did not look as pleased to see him as he thought she might be. But that was alright, there was still time. If anything, that made her even more fascinating to him. Julian could not help but notice the envious and admiring gazes surrounding them, surrounding him. The other ladies in the room watched him with longing, their smiles brightening whenever he glanced their way.
Yet, he remained focused on Chloe, sensing the complexity beneath her composed exterior.
“Your Grace,” she replied, curtsying gracefully. “You flatter me.”
“I merely speak the truth,” he said, taking her hand and brushing his lips against her gloved fingers. “I have been most eager to make your acquaintance.”
As he straightened, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes… nervousness perhaps, or a hint of defiance. Julian liked that. It would make the game all the more interesting. Anything to make the game interesting inspired him.
The orchestra began to play, but Julian paused for a moment, heightening the tension. He enjoyed these small moments of control, the way anticipation hung in the air. The other guests watched with bated breath, waiting to see what he would do next. He smirked, still not quite ready to ask. But it was inevitable, he would ask when the moment was right. But only he would be able to decide when the moment was right.
Julian could feel the collective gaze of the ballroom fixed on him and Chloe. He reveled in the power he held over them, knowing that every subtle move, every hesitation, only increased their fascination.
“Tell me, Lady Chloe,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of command. “Do you enjoy these gatherings, or do you, too, find them lacking?”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to discern the meaning behind his words. “I find them… necessary,” she replied carefully. “But often quite monotonous, I suppose.”
“Ah, monotony,” Julian echoed, his gaze intense. “A plague upon the privileged, would you not agree?”
She smiled, but it was clear that she was not entirely sure how to react. It was up to him to carry this on. He allowed his lips to curl up into a smirk before he allowed those words to fall out of his mouth. The words that they all knew were coming.
“Please, accompany me for a dance. I would be most honored, Lady Swift.”
***
“Please, accompany me for a dance. I would be most honored, Lady Swift.”
Had he really just asked that?
In shock, Chloe hesitated, her eyes darting to Seraphina beside her, who offered an encouraging nod. Although the encouragement might have simply been because Chloe could not refuse. Not when a duke asked her to dance. She could feel Lord Frampton’s confidence radiating off him, his certainty that she would comply, just as so many others had before her. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied, her smile polite but strained.
As they moved to the center of the dance floor, Chloe’s mind raced. The Duke was not a man to be trifled with. His reputation was as imposing as his presence. Tall and broad shouldered, he carried himself with an air of authority that made lesser men quail. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through anyone he looked at. His jaw, set in a permanent expression of sternness, added to his intimidating aura. Rumors about him circulated through the ton like wildfire. They whispered of his fierce temper, his ruthless business acumen, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding his family’s fortune.
Some even said he had single handedly negotiated trade deals that saved the crown from financial ruin. Others spoke of duels fought and won, his skill with a pistol unmatched. It was likely all untrue, but Chloe did not know how to feel as she stood opposite this man.
As they stepped onto the dance floor, Chloe could feel the weight of his gaze. It was as if he were assessing her, measuring her worthiness. She struggled to maintain her composure, aware of the eyes of the other guests upon them. They were all going to be gossiping, and that terrified Chloe more than anything else. Chloe caught sight of her father standing at the edge of the room. His expression was one of approval, his eyes fixed on her with a look that spoke volumes. This was what he wanted for her. A match that would elevate their family’s status, a connection that would solidify their place in society. The weight of his expectations pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.
Lord Frampton led her into the dance with a practiced grace, his movements precise and controlled.
“You look exquisite tonight, Lady Swift,” he said, his voice low and intimate.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she replied, her body stiff and her smiles forced.
She tried to focus on the steps, the rhythm of the music, anything to distract her from the unsettling feeling of being in Lord Frampton’s arms. Why did he make her feel this way? What was it about him that terrified her so much? As they glided across the dance floor, Frampton began speaking, his tone dripping with confidence and self assuredness. This seemed to be a speech that he had practiced often. He said it as if it was a script which only made this feel a million times worse.
“You know, Lady Swift, I have recently acquired a new estate in the Lake District. It is quite the property. Several thousand acres, with a manor house that rivals any in the country. The views are simply breath taking.”
Oh no.
Now she was going to have to suffer him bragging. She had been through this with lords before, and it was always hard to smile through.
“That sounds lovely, Your Grace,” Chloe replied, keeping her tone polite.
She could not help but notice the way his eyes gleamed with pride as he spoke about his latest acquisition, as if it were a trophy to be displayed rather than a home to be cherished.
“And, of course, my investments have been flourishing,” Lord Frampton continued, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm. “The venture in India has been particularly successful. The returns have been more than satisfactory. My business acumen has always been a point of pride.”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Chloe murmured, her mind wandering as he bragged about his wealth and successes.
She caught sight of her father again, his approving gaze never wavering. The pressure to secure a suitable match weighed heavily on her, making each of Lord Frampton’s boasts feel like a chain tightening around her heart. His grip on her waist tightened slightly as he guided her through a particularly intricate turn.
“It is essential to maintain a certain level of prestige and influence in our circles, would you not agree? Connections and wealth are what keep us at the top, after all.”
Chloe forced another smile, her thoughts drifting to the days spent with Anthony. His laughter, his kindness, the genuine connection they shared… it all seemed so far away now, replaced by the cold reality of societal expectations.
“Yes, Your Grace, they are important.”
His gaze bore into her, as if searching for a sign of agreement, or perhaps admiration. Chloe’s mind raced, struggling to keep up with the conversation while battling the rising tide of discontent within her. She felt like a marionette, her strings pulled taut by the expectations of those around her. She had absolutely no control over her own movements at all.
Finally, the music swelled to its final crescendo, signaling the end of the dance. Chloe felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her.
Lord Frampton escorted her back to her mother, his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Swift. I look forward to our next.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. She curtsied politely as he bowed and took his leave.
Thank goodness that was over. That was a nightmare. Although she knew that was unlikely to be the end of the nightmare. Her father was most certainly going to want to talk about it, whether she wanted to or not. Chloe’s heart sank. The Season had not gotten off to the greatest start for her, and there was still so much to come.