As the dance continued, Meredith’s gaze finally lifted to meet his, and her eyes shimmered with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability. Finally, she broke the silence.
"Where do you go every evening?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the music.
Ethan hesitated for a moment, considering how much he should reveal. "I have business at a gambling den," he admitted, deciding to be vague but honest. "I have visited it every night since my childhood.”
"Childhood? But why?" she pressed, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.
Ethan sighed. "It's...complicated," he replied, not wanting to delve too deeply into his past just yet.
Meredith searched his face, as if trying to read the emotions he had locked away. "Why do you never speak of your past, your family?"
He couldn't deny the surprise that flickered across his face. This wasn't a topic he had expected to discuss, but he could see the genuine question in her eyes. "My father was a cruel and distant man. It's not a past I enjoy discussing," he replied tersely, hoping she would let the matter drop.
Meredith nodded, understanding his reluctance to share more. She hesitated before changing the subject. For a moment, he could sense the clockwork ticking away in her mind. Then, she began again, catching him off-guard once more. “What is your favorite memory from your childhood?"
Ethan was taken aback by the personal question, but he felt he owed her a sincere response for once this night. His thoughts traveled back, long before he had inherited the Dukedom, before his father had all but disowned him. "When I was a boy, someone close to me once took me to a fair. We spent the entire day trying out all the games and stuffing our faces with sweetmeats. Needless to say, the late Duke,” he interrupted himself, “my father, wasn’t too happy with me behaving like a street urchin,” he finished slowly.
Meredith relaxed, a faint smile playing across her delicate lips as she listened to his story. "Well, that sounds like a lovely day," she murmured.
Encouraged by her response, Ethan decided to ask her a question of his own. "And I suppose you must have an abundance of cherished recollections from your past?"
She appeared thoughtful as she considered her answer. "I... I once spent an entire day reading in the garden with my father. He rarely found time for me ever since my mother’s passing, so that day was special. It was the last time I ever felt like I had a conventional family."
Ethan found himself bewitched by the sincerity in her voice, the way her face lit up as she recounted her treasured memory. He couldn't help but tease her, wanting to see her smile again. "You always did have your nose in a book, didn't you?"
Meredith's blush deepened even further, but she couldn't suppress a grin. "I suppose I did," she admitted, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Books were my escape, my friends when I had none."
Ethan's heart softened at her words. "Well, now you have me," he said, only half-jokingly. "And I assure you, I can be far more entertaining than any novel."
She raised an eyebrow as her smile turned into a playful smirk. "Is that a challenge,Ethan Connolly?"
"Perhaps it is,Meredith Connolly," he replied in turn, his own smirk mirroring hers.
As they swayed in rhythm with the music, Ethan was struck by how different Meredith seemed. Gone was the shy, reserved young woman he had first met, replaced by a woman who was slowly learning to assert herself. It was a change he couldn't help but admire.
The music began to wind down, signaling the end of the dance. As the final notes faded, Ethan reluctantly released Meredith from his embrace. Their conversation had been more personal than he had ever intended, but he couldn't deny the connection he felt to her. He may not have been ready to fully open up, but she had managed to chip away at the walls he had so carefully constructed around himself. With impressive ease.
CHAPTER7
Meredith's heels clicked gently against the stone floor as she made her way toward Ethan's study, feeling more spirited than usual.
That’s one item off the list,she thought to herself. After unexpectedly completing one of her self-imposed tasks—dancing with her husband—she held a newfound sense of confidence.
Presently, she wore a vibrant, slim, crimson gown with a daringly low neckline and a slit, of her own making, revealing portions of her thigh and stocking. Subtle golden embroidery adorned the hem. She had draped a black shawl over herself as she traversed the hallways, not wanting to be seen like this by anyone—except Ethan.
Meredith knew that persuading her husband to remain at the castle during the evening would be challenging, and she did not have the days to keep trying and failing. Thus, she decided to entice him into staying for dinner with her. The idea had initially seemed foolish, but after a bit of Dutch courage, the whole set-up appeared perfect. Earlier in the day, she had strategically placed a note on his desk, inviting him to join her in the evening, setting her plan in motion. Then, she spent the rest of the day getting dressed up, and soon, it was time to meet with him.
Inhaling deeply to compose herself, she knocked on the sturdy door of Ethan's study, then waited patiently for a response. Upon being met with silence, she cautiously pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sign of footsteps, but none came.
Has he perhaps left already for the evening? Maybe he simply missed my note asking him to stay for tonight.
She opened the door, and a gust of wind caressed her face from an open window as she searched for any sign of Ethan. But he wasn't there. Meredith squinted from where she stood, checking if her note was still on the writing desk.
Once she realized it was gone, likely taken by Ethan himself, she shook her head.
So he didn’t miss it.
She sighed and left the doorway with slow steps, her head hanging low in disappointment. It felt like another setback to her plans. After their prior conversation during the ballroom dance, she had felt she’d made some progress in their relationship. Unfortunately, it now seemed she had been foolish for harboring such hopes.
