And it terrified her.
A week later, Alasdair arrived at the grand ball looking decidedly unlike himself. His normally sharp bearing was dulled, his shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed somewhere vaguely ahead as if the chandelier light pained him.
He scanned the crowd like a man hunting for an escape, not an entrance.
When he spotted Seth leaning casually against the wall near the drinks table, he made a beeline for him.
“I need brandy,” Alasdair said grimly, the words low and clipped.
“Good evening to you, too,” Seth replied, arching a brow as he handed over a generous glass. “Whatever happened to polite greetings and charming smiles?”
“Daenae ask,” Alasdair growled, and downed the brandy in a single gulp.
Seth gave a low whistle. “Noted. But Iamgoing to ask again in about five minutes, once you’ve got a second drink in your system.”
Before Alasdair could shoot back a retort, there was a visible shift in the room’s energy. Conversations dulled, fans fluttered more quickly, and heads began to turn.
Seth tilted his head toward the entryway. “And speaking of the source of your ongoing torment…”
Alasdair followed his gaze and immediately stiffened.
Elizabeth had arrived.
She was wearing another one of those godforsaken dresses. The kind that fit her figure like a second skin and left little to the imagination when it came to her generous décolletage.
His jaw tightened involuntarily. Surely, Lady Grisham hadn’t approvedthat.
Elizabeth’s composure, however, was impeccable. Her chin was held high, her shoulders set proudly back, her every step measured but elegant. She was smiling politely as she greeted guests, but he could see it.
Beneath that calm surface was the same whirlwind he’d glimpsed when she kissed him back.
And yet she didn’t glance in his direction. Not once.
Before he could attempt to make his way toward her, the room gave another murmur. This time, a ripple of true excitement rolled through the guests.
Apparently, the Duke and Duchess of Oakmere had arrived.
Alasdair didn’t need to ask. From the stiffening of Lady Grisham’s posture across the room and the way Elizabeth’s gaze softened as she looked toward them, he knew instantly who they were: her eldest sister and brother-in-law.
“I’m afraid you’ll need to delay that second brandy,” Seth muttered, following Alasdair’s gaze. “Looks like the Grisham family is here for a proper reunion.”
Elizabeth could scarcely keep up with the shifting emotions coursing through her. It was dizzying—joy and tension knotted tightly together.
She was overjoyed to see Marianne again. Her sister had always been her safe place, the one person who never made her feel inadequate or invisible. But with that joy came pressure. Her sister was married to a duke. Her Season had been a resounding success.
What if Elizabeth failed again?
Lady Grisham had already arranged herself into position beside the newcomers, a smile stretched thin across her face like sugar over burnt bread.
“Lady Grisham,” said Dominic, the Duke of Oakmere, offering a graceful bow and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Elizabeth remembered well how Marianne’s husband had maintained cordial relations with their father for the sake of business before his marriage. He knew how to play a long game. His politeness now was polished and cool but laced with the subtle tension of someone restraining judgment.
“You must tell us everything you’ve been up to!” Wilhelmina said breathlessly, taking Marianne’s arm and tugging her aside before anyone else could get a word in.
Dominic turned to Elizabeth. His smile softened. “And you, Lady Elizabeth. How has the Season been treating you?”
“She’s been dreadfully busy,” Wilhelmina answered for her. “But if I’m honest, it’s been quite dull to watch. For the most part. Then again,youset an impossible standard.”