When Ember had arrived home earlier that evening, hoping to retire to her bedroom and call it a day, she had bumped into her father. Surprisingly, he was far more reluctant about her skipping the ball than Lauren ever was.
Ever since her mother's passing, Ember had relied on her father for everything, and he had never disappointed her. In fact, he often went the extra mile to ensure she felt comfortable in her own skin. Despite her attempts to convince him that she was better off lying in bed while the ball proceeded, she eventually adhered to his stubborn request.
However, she didn't fail to grab her cape.
Her plan was simple: stick around for the first thirty minutes and sneak out when no one was watching. It wasn't as if anyone other than Lauren would give any care in the world about her presence. And Lauren would likely be too focused on dancing with the Duke to notice her, anyway.
Ember hoped to be out of the hall before she had to witness that.
Her father had practically forced her into the carriage, strictly warning the coachman to only turn back after watching his daughter enter the venue. So, the minute she walked into the fancy hall, she found a corner, keeping her cape on to avoid the dreadful gazes thrown her way.
Halfway through the night, Ember remained in her corner, dodging stares, grabbing champagne flutes from passing servers, nibbling on cupcakes, and—most dangerously—watching the Duke as he enjoyed the party.
At first, she tried to look everywhere but at him. But once she confirmed his attention was fixated on everything else in the room but her, she allowed herself to look. She observed every one of his moves, from the movement of his full lips to the deepening of his dimple as he laughed with guests.
If anyone had taken the time to notice her, they'd tell right away that she was obsessed.
No, she was madly in love with him. But, fortunately—and unfortunately—no one cared enough to catch her gawking at the Duke.
She was in love with his gorgeous, dimpled smile. She was in love with his sexy baritone. She was in love with his captivating oceanic gaze and the strong arms that had caught her and held her steady the night of their first encounter.
On that windy night, her carriage had hit a pothole, sending her flying. The Duke had immediately caught her, muttering, "Are you quite alright?"
Her gaze darted to his rosy lips.
She wanted those lips on her. She craved a taste. She wanted a bite of—
Ember stopped her wayward thoughts when she realized the Duke's attention was no longer on the men he was chatting with. It was on her. His gaze regarded her with interest, his hands clasped behind his back.
Oh hell! He had caught her staring like an obsessed freak.
Flushed and breathless, Ember immediately swirled away, grabbing another champagne flute and taking a deep gulp. She fanned herself frantically, trying to dispel the heat rising in her face.
What if he had seen the scar? She fought so hard to hide it. Even in the carriage during their first meeting, it had been too dark, and she had kept it hidden beneath her hood.
Ember felt the urge to find the Duke's gaze again. Perhaps he had signaled a servant to have her thrown out? Or perhaps he was ignoring her like the plague she felt she was?
However, it was neither of those things.
The Duke had not taken his eyes off her. He stared at her with an intensity that bordered on lust, turning a deaf ear to every word said by the men that chatted with him.
Could he have recognized her and simply couldn't believe she was this hideous? No, that didn't explain the heat in his gaze, or how his eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
Overwhelmed, Ember reverted her gaze and dashed out of the hall to get fresh air. As soon as she was outside, she lowered her cape, allowing the cool night breeze to hit her flushed skin. A few people cast her glares, but she didn't care. The Duke had just regarded her with desire!
It was a hard fact to comprehend; maybe she was hallucinating.
Once she composed herself, Ember draped her cape back on and walked back into the party. But the Duke was no longer in his previous position. He was dancing.
…with Lauren.
Her heart sank. She quickly turned away, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.
She had hallucinated. Definitely.
Ember had watched the Duke reject every girl's request to dance throughout the night, politely so, yet he had accepted Lauren's in a heartbeat. Was her fear coming to pass?
Oh, dummy! Of course it would.
Lauren was one of the most beautiful spinsters in Belmont, and Duke Dallas was the most handsome bachelor. It was a perfect match.
As she prepared to flee the hall, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to face a beaming Lauren.
Of course, she would be excited. Ember swallowed and forced on a smile, hoping her friend wouldn't realize her smile was far from genuine.
"Is your dance card occupied?" Lauren asked.
Was she mocking her? Lauren knew she never requested dance cards at the Balls because no man ever approached her.
"I don't have one," Ember managed to answer through gritted teeth.
"Great! Go to the garden once the next dance starts," Lauren whispered, her eyes twinkling. "The Duke wishes to meet you there."
"What?"