***
Jasper, still transfixed by Abigail from across the room, finally began to make his way toward her, as if drawn by an invisible thread. He had always been wrapped up in the chaos of his new responsibilities as Duke, but tonight, the only thing that mattered was her. The way her presence seemed to calm the very air around her, the way she made him feel less like a Duke and more like a man who longed for something more—something real.
Abigail, aware of his approach, felt her pulse quicken. She had already caught his eye, and the warmth in his gaze was enough to make her heart flutter. She had always known Jasper as a friend, someone who had been there through the years with his quiet, reassuring presence. But tonight, as he crossed the room toward her, she saw him in a different light. There was a strength to him now—something that went beyond his title. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have him by her side, not as a friend, but as something more.
When Jasper reached her, he offered a slight bow, his eyes locking with hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Lady Abigail," he said softly, his voice low and commanding, yet gentle. "May I have the honor of this dance?"
Abigail's breath caught in her throat. She could only nod, her heart racing. Her smile was shy but genuine as she placedher hand in his, and together, they stepped into the center of the ballroom. The music swirled around them, and for a brief, perfect moment, the world seemed to fade away. There were no titles, no expectations—just the two of them.
As they danced, Jasper felt a deep sense of inevitability. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Abigail Browning would be his. He was determined to win her heart—no matter what it took.
Throughout the evening, they spoke—Abigail's grace and charm, her intelligence, her warmth—Jasper marveled at all of it. She was more than just a beautiful lady; she was someone who would make a true partner for him. And by the end of the night, he knew what he had to do.
He sought out her father, asking if he could call on him the following day. Meanwhile, Philip, who was very much entranced by Lady Sophia, made his own decision. He would speak with Lady Sophia's father and express his interest in courting her, hoping to solidify their connection.
And so, under the glittering chandeliers of that grand ballroom, the dance of desire had only just begun.
Chapter Two
Charlotte Finch sat at her vanity, the afternoon light filtering through the curtains as she brushed her hair, her mind restless. It had been a few days since the ball, but already the whispers of society were hard to escape. At finishing school, she had been used to being the center of attention, but here in London, the focus seemed to be elsewhere.
She reached for the latest edition ofThe Daily Regency Gazettethat had been left on her desk. With a sigh, she began to skim the headlines, her fingers brushing over the paper as she read aloud:
"Mysterious Visit: P. B. Calls Upon the Earl of Blackwell – Is a Match in the Works?"
Charlotte's lips curled into a tight smile. Philip had promised this dance to Lady Sophia Marlow, and now this? It was no surprise—Sophia was sweet and pretty, but she was the daughter of an Earl, not a Duke. What could she offer that Charlotte could not?
Her gaze turned to the next headline:
"A Walk in the Park: D. W. and Lady A. B. Stir Speculation"
Charlotte's grip on the paper tightened, her chest constricting with irritation.D. W.? She didn't need to see the full name to know who it was. Jasper Finch. The Duke of Winterset. And Lady Abigail Browning. The girl who had always been tooperfect, too dainty. Always on her best behavior. Always in Charlotte's shadow.
The last line of the article taunted her:"Society remains intrigued by the growing closeness between the two."Charlotte's hand trembled as she dropped the paper, her face flushed with frustration. She had seen them together. She knew exactly what the world was thinking. And she didn't like it one bit.
Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the image of Abigail's soft curls and wide doe eyes. Abigail, with her delicate beauty and quiet grace. She could already picture her walking arm in arm with Jasper as his Duchess, everyone looking on in admiration. Meanwhile, Charlotte... well, she was just the Duke's sister.
Charlotte forced herself to breathe, her mind racing. This was nothing more than idle speculation. Jasper wasn't interested in Abigail. He couldn't be. There was no way that quiet, dull Abigail was being seriously courted by a Duke when she had had no callers.
Yet, there the rumors were, plastered in the very paper she held in her hands. The Daily Regency Gazette had never shied away from making a spectacle out of the most trivial details of society. She threw the paper down onto the vanity with a huff.
Philip's interest in Sophia was ruining her plans."Let's see how long this lasts,"Charlotte muttered, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had a plan—one that would ensure her place at the top of the ton, just where she belonged. She sighed, brushing a loose curl behind her ear as she tried to focus on something, anything, other than the gossip swirling around her. Just then, the sound of a soft knock on her door broke her thoughts.
"Charlotte, are you well?" her brother Jasper's voice called from the hallway.
She paused for a moment before responding, turning to face the door with a slight frown.
"Quite well, Jasper," she replied, her voice a bit too sweet. She was certain he wouldn't miss the hint of weariness in her tone, but she wasn't about to tell him the truth. Not yet.
The door creaked open, and Jasper's tall figure filled the doorway. He was already dressed for the ball, his dark-blue coat fitted to perfection, his blond hair neatly combed, his blue eyes scanning her face with the kind of care only a brother would offer. At twenty-eight, he was every bit the powerful Duke he had recently become, but there was still the softness of affection in his gaze as he leaned against the doorframe.
"You're sulking," he observed, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "What's troubling you?"
Charlotte turned away, not wanting him to see the way her fingers clenched at the paper. "I'm not sulking," she replied quickly, her voice cool. "It's just that..." She trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts.
"There's just no gentleman who's caught your fancy, then?" Jasper guessed, his tone teasing but gentle.
