— "Nathan, how happy I am to see you!"
Ophelia cried out as she flung herself into the arms of her dearest friend. She kissed his cheek, leaving a faint trace of rosewater fragrance upon him, and, with the enthusiasm of a puppy reunited with its master, clasped his hand tightly and led him gleefully into the house.
Her parents received the Duke with warmth, inquiring after his travels with all the courtesy and gravity expected of their station. They asked after his health, the weather in France, and whether he had found the continental roads tolerable that season. Polite as ever, Nathan answered their questions with measured composure, though Ophelia was visibly impatient, shifting from foot to foot like a restless child. At last, with a smile, her parents excused themselves, leaving the two of them alone.
— "I want all the details. Every last one. Even the scandalous ones — especially the scandalous ones, if you know what I mean," she teased, jabbing him playfully in the ribs until he coughed from surprise. Her laughter rang bright through the hall, full of mischief and affection.
— "Ophelia, you expect far too much of me. I assure you, there are no scandalous tales to share — and even if there were, I would not be so reckless as to confess them to you," he said with mock severity, though the corner of his mouth betrayed the hint of a smile.
— "Oh please. If there were? I know there are. You can't possibly expect me to believe you crossed half of Europe and returned without even one story worth telling. But fine. Keep your secrets for now. I shall extract them eventually — you know I always do." She gave him a knowing look, the kind only an old friend could give, and sat herself down gracefully upon the nearest chair. "Start at the beginning — I want the whole story. Spare me nothing. I should like to imagine every town, every inn, every conversation. Let me see it all through your eyes."
And so, the Duke began to recount his grand tour which ended in France. His voice was calm and deliberate. There were no indecent confessions to speak of — at least none offered freely — but Ophelia, clever as ever, managed to draw out a few names, prying with practiced skill. Nathaniel spoke with the discretion of a seasoned diplomat, never too much, never too little, offering her glimpses rather than confessions. Yet for her, those glimpses were quite enough to satisfy curiosity, her imagination filling in the gaps with a delight that made her eyes sparkle all the brighter.
— "And what of the last one? Louis?"
— "There was... an incident. One which forced me to return rather sooner than I had intended."
— "So you didn't rush back solely to see me?" she asked, feigning indignation and pouting theatrically.
The Duke smiled, but the smile faded almost as soon as it had appeared.
— "No... That part is true. I did want to see you — I missed you terribly. But after what happened, I realized I need to speak with you. About something rather serious. I'm deeply ashamed..."
Ophelia straightened in her seat, her playfulness slipping away.
— "Nathan, you can tell me anything."
And he did. He told her what had happened in Paris — everything — and the reason for his sudden departure. As he spoke, tears welled in Ophelia's eyes.
— "That's so cruel! So unfair," she burst out.
He took her hand gently.
— "I am sorry. The last thing I ever wished for was to bring you pain."
— "It's not you, it's that damned woman!" Ophelia answered. Then, after a pause, she said, more calmly, "We cannot trust her. Something must be done. You must ensure that, even if she does begin to spread whispers, none of them can touch you."
She wiped her tears, then moved to the window, her arms folded behind her. Silence hung between them for a long moment.
— "Nathan," she said at last, without turning around, "we ought to marry. At once."
The Duke froze.
— "That… is precisely what I wanted to ask you," he admitted softly, his gaze lowering to the carpet.
— "Oh please, don't be so shy about it. It was only a matter of time. You've always been my confidant. If anyone ever earned the right to finally marry me, it's you."
She turned back to him with a gentle smile.
The Duke clenched hands on his knees, a voice dropping to a tremble.
— "You have always been my strength as well. More than anyone. You and Emily became my family when my parents died. Your presence saved me. Because of you, I could breathe again and dared to embrace the truth of who I was… I can never thank you enough…"
— "Oh, Nathan"
— "Looking back, I was little better than a stray dog loosed from its collar. Chasing everything, devouring freedom as if it would cure me. That journey — it was merely a continuation of my rebellion. And its end. Each affair was meant to make me feel more alive, more whole. Less alone. But you were right from the start, it only deepened the emptiness. Each farewell, each lover returned to his wife, carved me out a little more. You were right, Ophelia, I have grown older. I…"
Tears slipped down his cheeks and fell to the floor.
Ophelia rushed to him, knelt at his feet, and wrapped her arms around his legs, resting her cheek against his knee.
— "Nathan… it is only natural to tire of fleeting pleasures. Are you saying… you're ready for something bigger?"
A faint sob escaped his lips. Only Ophelia had ever seen him thus.
— "I think I was ready long ago. But the older I grow, the more I fear… I may never truly reach it."
Ophelia wept too, holding him tighter.
After some time, she spoke softly:
— "Nathan, we became friends because we understood each other without ever needing words. Remember when our parents tried to pair us off for the first time? And we laughed, because we knew the truth? We thought the world was ours. We believed we had found the great secret and salvation. That one day, we would be free to love as we truly are. I'll never forget that dinner when we brought it up in jest. Uncle Henry nearly exploded. And our mothers looked petrified. I was terrified too — for us, for the future. For who we are."
Nathan drew her into a full embrace.
— "But even if I cannot change the world," she continued, fire returning to her voice, "I refuse to live a lie. Even if it damns me for eternity, I will not abandon my soul. At least I shall burn among those who dared to love — and to love truthfully. And you do so! Nathan, the time has come. My parents nearly lost their minds when you vanished after our 'engagement'. Thank heaven they told no one. A marriage between us will grant us freedom. And I know it's hard, but don't speak as if all is lost for you. We will be protected, and you will find someone who makes you happy and whom you love endlessly. I'm certain of it."
The Duke buried his face in his hands.
— "Good Lord, I've not asked a single thing about you since I arrived. I'm a terrible man."
— "Don't be absurd. I pounced on you at the door and never let you speak. But before I share any of my scandalous details, we must settle one thing."
She straightened, smoothing the folds of her gown, and her gaze turned serious.
— "You must promise — no more affairs. Not until the wedding. We must protect ourselves firmly. This isn't a game, Nathan."
— "Of course, Ophelia, I swear."
— "Now, as for me…" she began, and recounted the years they had spent apart.
Together, they began to shape a careful plan for the months ahead. Their voices dropped to whispers, as if the walls themselves might carry their secret. With Emily as their trusted accomplice, they plotted their theatre of illusions with the precision of generals preparing for war. Ophelia delighted in the idea of duping London society with the most classic of romantic performances: a delayed proposal, a solemn wedding... but with a twist. A mere union would not suffice; far better to offer the audience a long and tantalising tale than a predictable marriage upon return. To dazzle them, to weave a romance so convincing that no one could question it — this was their only safety.
Step one: return Nathan to society. He would need to show the curious aunts and scheming mothers that he was weary of wandering — a man chastened, matured, and at last ready to "settle down."
And what better place to begin than an upcoming ball? Its gossip would swirl like fire catching dry grass, and Nathan's reappearance would not go unnoticed.
And so, armed with Ophelia's instructions, the Duke prepared to attend his first ball since his return.