“It can?” she asked curiously.
“Well, during the ball, if the crowd becomes difficult or if the attention proves too much, you will be allowed to retire at any point, without attracting comment. It will be our wedding night, after all. No one will question where the bride has disappeared to. It is expected even.”
Hazel felt her breath catch. He was offering a perfect, simple escape from the overwhelming spectacle her mother was already constructing. It was a small mercy. One she hadn’t even dared to hope for.
Hazel’s heart thudded painfully in her chest.
Oh no,she thought miserably.Absolutely not. Do not react. Do not feel anything, you fool of a heart…
But her traitorous heart fluttered anyway.
She managed to speak, though it came out softer than she intended. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Greyson inclined his head. “I suspected as much.”
She couldn’t look away from him. Her heart would not allow it.
Patience leaned toward Chastity and whispered loudly. “They’re staring at each other.”
Chastity whispered back. “Do you think this is what courting looks like?”
Hazel groaned. Greyson blinked. The spell broke.
That was when the duke rose with his usual composed grace, offering a polite bow to Hazel and then another to her sisters, who very nearly curtsied themselves straight onto the floor.
“I should be going slowly. Ladies,” he said.
Chastity squeaked. Patience forgot how to breathe.
“Your Grace,” Hazel replied.
He inclined his head once more and departed the parlor, with the butler closing the door behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo through Hazel’s bones. The moment he was out of earshot, her sisters exploded.
Chastity clasped her hands dramatically beneath her chin. “Hazel, that was so romantic!”
“Utterly romantic,” Patience agreed. “Did you see the way he looked at you? Like you were the only person in the room!”
Hazel groaned and sank back into her chair. “I saw the way he looked at Mama’s swan plans. He was terrified.”
Chastity flopped onto the settee. “Still romantic.”
Patience nodded as if this were indisputable. “Very.”
Hazel glared at them. “None of this would be happening if the two of you hadn’t been in the duke’s room to begin with.”
Both girls froze, then wilted.
Patience twisted her fingers. “We’re… sorry?”
Chastity nudged her. “Wearesorry. We didn’t mean to cause all this. But…” Her eyes brightened with unmistakable excitement. “You are going to marry a duke! Hazel, a duke!”
Patience clasped Hazel’s arm. “A duchess! You’ll be a duchess!”
Hazel stared at them. They stared back at her as though this were the culmination of some spectacular fairy tale instead of a social disaster wrapped in lace and panic.
Hazel sighed and reached for her tea. There was no point contradicting her sisters. There was no point contradicting her mother. There was absolutely no point in contradicting her father. Not one member of her family would ever take her side inthis matter. They were too busy floating on clouds of excitement and noble titles.
So Hazel drank her tea and listened to her sisters drone on about color schemes, bridal flowers, wedding breakfasts, duchess lessons, and what her new signature might look like.
