Is he going to ask me to leave first thing in the morning?
The idea landed in her chest with an unpleasant heaviness she could not quite explain.
She forced herself to breathe evenly and lifted her gaze across the ballroom. The glittering chandeliers blurred for a moment before she found him. Gabriel stood near the far edge of theroom with Lady Provie at his side, both of them half-shadowed by the edge of the candlelight.
His posture, usually controlled to perfection, had shifted, subtly wrong in a way only someone watching closely would notice. One hand rested at his side, the other flexed once then stilled again as though he were restraining himself. Lady Provie was speaking animatedly, her fan slicing through the air with sharp little gestures.
Amelia frowned slightly. “He looks… angry.”
As she continued watching, Gabriel shifted his weight again, his jaw tightening as Lady Provie leaned in closer. Whatever she was saying, it was clearly not agreeable. Amelia’s fingers curled slightly against the edge of her skirts, an unconscious reaction she did not understand. She had seen Gabriel irritated before, even sharp, but this was different. This was controlled anger, carefully contained, like a storm held behind glass.
Lady Provie, however, looked entirely unbothered, as though she were enjoying herself far too much.
Amelia’s unease deepened.
What on earth could she be saying to him?
Then, abruptly, Gabriel did something that made Amelia’s breath catch. He lifted a hand and pointed toward a smalladjoining parlor near the edge of the ballroom. The gesture was precise, controlled, final.
Lady Provie’s brows lifted sharply, and for the first time that evening, her composure cracked. Her eyes widened in clear surprise before narrowing again as though reassessing him. After a brief pause, she snapped her fan shut with a decisive click. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked toward the indicated room.
Gabriel followed a step behind her. Amelia straightened instinctively, her heart beginning to beat faster.
No. No, this is not normal.
She watched as Gabriel opened the door for his aunt, his movements stiff with restraint. Lady Provie entered first, and Gabriel stepped in after her. Then, with a final glance back toward the ballroom, he pulled the door shut behind them. The sound of it closing felt louder to Amelia than the music, than the laughter, than anything else in the room.
For a moment, she simply stared, frozen in place. Her mind began to fill the silence with possibilities she did not like.
Arguments. Accusations. Discussions about her, no, surely not.
And yet she could not shake the feeling that her name might somehow be tangled in whatever was happening behind that closed door. Her stomach tightened unpleasantly.
“This is ridiculous. I am being ridiculous,” she muttered to herself.
And yet she did not move.
Valerie appeared at her side a moment later, flushed and breathless from dancing, only to follow Amelia’s gaze.
“Why has my uncle taken Lady Provie into a room like a prisoner?” she asked lightly, though her expression suggested she was not entirely joking.
Amelia swallowed, forcing her voice to remain calm. “I am sure it is nothing,” she replied, but she did not believe it for a second.
“Oh dear,” John said.
Amelia turned toward him, her composure slipping.
“What is happening?” she asked quietly.
John followed her gaze to the closed door, then back to her. His expression was infuriatingly unreadable. “That,” he said at last, “depends entirely on which version of your duke you are about to meet when that door opens.”
Amelia’s breath caught again. “That is not an answer.”
John gave a small, almost sympathetic shrug. “I am afraid it is the only one I have.” And with that, he took a drink off a passing tray and took a slow sip as though the entire situation were nothing more than mild entertainment.
Amelia returned her gaze to the door once more, unable to look away. The music continued, the guests continued to laugh, but everything felt suddenly distant, blurred at the edges.
Behind that door, something important was happening. Something that might change everything she had only just begun to understand about this place. And for the first time that evening, Amelia realized she was no longer worried about Valerie’s debut at all.
