“Yes, it does,” he agreed.
Lavinia looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Thank you for today,” she said, her voice carrying all the sincerity she felt. “For everything.”
Peter met her gaze. “It was my pleasure,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “I… enjoyed spending time with you.”
Lavinia smiled, warmth spreading through her at his words. “I enjoyed it too,” she admitted, her heart fluttering slightly at the way he was looking at her.
Since Peter’s chambers were on the same floor as the great hall, it did not take them much time to arrive at his suite.
They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading into the background as they simply stared at each other, the connection between them stronger than ever.
Finally, Peter broke the silence, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I hope we can do this again sometime,” he said, the words carrying a weight that went beyond a simple social engagement.
Lavinia’s smile widened, and she nodded. “I would like that,” she replied, her heart swelling with the possibilities that the future held.
The evening had been filled with unexpected moments, from their adventure in the village to the quiet, intimate conversations they had shared. The night had brought them closer, and as they stood there, Lavinia knew that something had shifted between them.
She waited, hoping that Peter would invite her into his room, but he said nothing more. He simply reached out, turned the doorknob, and let himself into his room.
Lavinia knew better than to be disappointed. The last time she had gone into his room, she had left abruptly and left their relationship in an awkward state.
It is best to just be happy with what the day has brought and not hope for more.
Lavinia walked up to her room to finally rest. She had only just realized that she had been walking for too long when, suddenly, her mother appeared before her.
“What have I been telling you, Lavinia?” the Baroness snapped.
Lavinia suddenly felt nervous. She didn’t know what her mother was referring to or why she was using such a waspish tone.
“I did what you asked me to, Mother. I mingled with your guests at the banquet yesterday and came back from the village…”
“You have not listened to my advice, sweet girl.” Her mother’s voice broke on the last words.
“What advice?” Lavinia asked in a thin, papery voice.
She was certain she knew the answer, but she could not stop herself from posing the question.
“Guard your heart, Lavinia.” Her mother reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “You have always been determined to marry someone you love, and I hope—I pray—that you will not forget all the things that once mattered to you most.”
With that, she turned and walked away. Her skirts swished slightly as she rounded the corner and headed for the staircase.
Lavinia’s thoughts spiraled. She knew that her mother had meant to caution her once more against falling in love with Peyer, and yet she had not said those words. Instead, she had chosen to remind her of what was important: love, romance, enduring faithfulness.
Could Peter love me? Could he be loyal to only me?
CHAPTER 15
The celebration of Lord and Lady Crawford’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary commenced with all the pomp and fanfare an event of this caliber warranted.
The grand ballroom of Crawford Hall was the very picture of opulence. Crystal chandeliers hung like crowns from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden light that shimmered across the polished marble floors and illuminated the richly adorned walls. The walls themselves were a masterpiece, decorated with tapestries and paintings that told the story of the Crawford family—a testament to their longstanding presence in Society.
The anniversary ball was the culmination of months of preparation, the crowning jewel of a week filled with anticipation and subtle maneuvering among the elite guests who had arrived well in advance.
Every detail had been meticulously planned by Lady Crawford, who was dressed tonight in a long, flowing white gown that was adorned with gilded accessories. A golden tiara rested on herbrown locks, which had been combed into long, wavy strands. Her waist was encircled by a golden belt, and the hemline featured small bits of golden embroidery.
At her side was Lord Crawford, who had donned a ruby red tunic as well as bits and pieces from an ancient-looking suit of armor. Together, the rather eccentric couple looked quite like a painting of King Arthur and Lady Guinevere.
Once all the guests were assembled, a trumpeter lifted his horn to his lips and blew a few notes. The sound was deafening, but the guests quieted down and turned to look at their host and hostess as the couple glided regally through the hall before climbing onto a dais.
