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The next morning at breakfast, the family reconvened around the mahogany table. A hush had fallen over the room, each member absorbed in their own thoughts as the ball, with all its accompanying preparations, loomed near.

Grandfather Henry eventually disrupted the morning quiet. “Miss LaFleur is very charming, Benedict,” he said with a smile on his lips. “To be honest, I’m a little surprised that you haven’t introduced us sooner. She’s not only incredibly beautiful but also extremely intelligent and quick-witted. I’m really impressed.”

Benedict looked up from his plate. “Thank you, grandfather,” he said, sensing the conversation was about to take a turn.

“I agree,” Lilibeth joined in. “I’ve never seen a woman of such striking beauty. She is indeed very clever, with a modern outlook on life—maybe at times even too modern for her own good. But it’s obvious that she likes you, dear.”

“Indeed,” Grandfather Henry confirmed before carefully adding, “I fear, however, that it”s not so obvious to her that you feel the same way. For reserved gentlemen like ourselves, expressing affection prior to marriage can be quite challenging, Benedict.” He paused thoughtfully. “And from what I observed last night, it appears you are withholding the kind of attention young ladies typically crave.”

“She”s not like most young ladies,” Benedict said, noting the irony in his words.

“Nevertheless, women like her rarely remain single for long,” his grandfather said with a trace of unease in his voice.

“I have to agree with your grandfather, dear,” Lilibeth said. “You and Miss LaFleur are different. She might interpret your reserved demeanor as indifference and feel overlooked by you.”

Benedict wasn”t inclined to argue, so he pretended to listen to their reasonings. “Thank you, I didn”t realize that. I shall try to make my intentions clearer to Miss LaFleur at the ball tonight,” he promised.

”That”s what I wanted to hear,” Lilibeth beamed.

Percy snorted at that but instantly coated his voice with feigned amiability. ”My-my, just look at Benny! Actually doing something for a girl. I”m proud of you, brother, truly.”

Benedict just gave him a tired look over the breakfast table.

“Perfect.” Grandfather Henry smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling with approval. “Don”t hesitate to show your emotions. Remember, it”s the man”s prerogative to take the first step.”

“I will,” said Benedict.

***

His mother hadn”t been exaggerating when she said everyone would be attending the ball. As the guests started to arrive and fill the ballroom, Benedict realized that, with a few exceptions, practically everyone he knew was there.

Lady Hawthorne was one of the first guests to arrive, her dress boasting a voluminous skirt adorned with crystals, which suited neither her status nor her character.

Accompanying the matchmaker were the Ashcrofts: Lord Lionel Ashcroft and his daughter Emily. Lord Ashcroft was a tall, gangly man with a thick mane of grey hair, wearing a golden three-piece suit with a top hat and a cane, who looked decidedly out of place in the Blackmoor ballroom. His daughter, however, was enchanting and graceful, with a plump, curvy figure and a petite stature that made her seem like a porcelain doll with big blue eyes and light-brown curls.

As soon as Lady Hawthorne and the Ashcrofts crossed the threshold, the matchmaker quickly glanced around the room with her hawkish dark eyes. Sure enough, the moment she spotted Benedict, she grabbed Miss Ashcroft by the wrist and dragged her over to him. Judging by this hasty attempt to introduce the girl to him, it was clear that the matchmaker still hadn”t abandoned her hopes of matching him with her protégée.

Emily, undoubtedly, was an exceptional young woman—polite, accomplished, and beautiful. However, Benedict couldn”t shake the feeling that Lady Hawthorne had given her a false impression that Benedict had a genuine interest in her.

After the introductions, he engaged in a brief conversation with the family, asking them why they hadn”t crossed paths at any of Shorewitch”s balls before. Miss Ashcroft explained that she had only recently returned from Switzerland, where she had been attending a prestigious school for girls. As the conversation progressed, they realized they had actually met many years ago when they were children.

While they chatted, Lady Hawthorne slipped away, likely to find Benedict”s mother, which annoyed him a great deal. Although Miss Ashcroft and her father were a pleasant company, Benedict didn”t want to give the matchmaker the satisfaction of showing his mother how well they got along. So when the conversation eventually reached a natural conclusion, he seized the opportunity to excuse himself and went to greet the other guests.

Despite the appointed hour having long passed, Victor, or rather Vivienne, was nowhere to be seen. The guests sipped their drinks and enjoyed light delicacies, mingling in casual conversations. Thanks to the alcohol, everyone seemed a bit more interesting than they actually were. From time to time, someone would approach Benedict and strike up a conversation in a blatant attempt to find out where was the woman who had become the talk of the evening, but Benedict pretended not to understand what they were hinting at.

As time passed, he felt a bubble of anxiety growing in his chest. Was Victor not going to show up? Did he get lost? Forget? Or had he decided to teach him a lesson?

Every now and then, he couldn”t help but let his eyes wander towards the ballroom doors.

Before long, the dances began. As the host, Benedict was obliged to select a partner, and much to Lady Hawthorne’s delight, he chose Emily Ashcroft. His decision, however, wasn”t to please her but rather for his own comfort. He was bound to spend the next thirty minutes with his chosen partner, and Emily was one of the few tolerable unmarried women in the room.

As they danced, Emily shared stories about her time in Switzerland and asked Benedict about his own education. Although Benedict attempted to engage in the conversation, his thoughts kept drifting off to Victor, wondering why he hadn”t shown up.

“I apologize, Mr. Blackmoor, but are you expecting someone?” Miss Ashcroft asked as his gaze once again darted to the ballroom doors.

“Forgive me,” Benedict said, turning to his dance partner with an apologetic smile. “That”s quite rude of me.”

“It”s completely fine,” Miss Ashcroft said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But you have a very anxious expression.”

Benedict chuckled at that. “I”m sorry to disappoint you, but that”s just my normal face,” he said, and Miss Ashcroft laughed in return.

At that moment, Benedict caught sight of two women deep in conversation at the other end of the ballroom: Lady Hawthorne and his mother. He didn”t need to hear them to know exactly what they were discussing. From time to time, he would catch his mother”s questioning glances, realizing she was just as worried as he was, if not more so, that Vivienne might not show up.

But just as the first dance ended and Benedict took his leave from Emily, the ballroom doors swung open, and the butler announced, “Miss LaFleur LaFleur.”

As Vivienne entered, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. Her dress, once again a departure from the norm, was scarlet and corseted with bare shoulders, a trailing hem, and a lace petticoat peeking out from a side slit. Ostrich feathers adorned one shoulder and the front of the dress. Unlike most women in the room, Vivienne”s blonde hair was slicked back and flowed down to her shoulder blades rather than being pulled into an updo.

Benedict greeted her at the ballroom doors. As he kissed her hand, Vivienne curtsied, her gaze fixed on him, though he could tell she was relishing everyone’s attention.

“Is everything all right?” Benedict asked quietly.

“Of course,” Vivienne replied casually, although he could tell she was holding something back.

Together, they walked into the center of the room, where a footman promptly offered the guest a drink in a tall glass.

“Where”s your chaperone?” Benedict asked Vivienne, taking a glass for himself. He caught sight of his mother, looking relieved, and his grandfather, who nodded at him reassuringly.

“She couldn”t come,” Vivienne said quietly, stepping closer to him to avoid being overheard.

“For a moment there, I thought you had decided to back out of our agreement,” Benedict confessed, meeting her gaze.

“We had some issues at the cabaret.”

Benedict nodded. Vivienne took a sip of champagne and smiled at him with her dazzling smile. “Everyone”s looking at us,” she said, barely articulating the words.

“I know,” Benedict said, looking only at her but feeling the guests’ gazes out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry about that.”

“It”s fine. I was just worried I forgot to wear my wig,” Vivienne said with a chuckle, and Benedict snorted.

“It”s not you. They”re just surprised to see me with a woman,” he joked, and Vivienne gave him a crooked smile.

“Oh yes, I gathered that already.”

At that moment, young Lord Edward Exington, the son of Benedict”s late father”s friend, Lord Daniel Exington, approached them along with a few other guests—all eager to meet the mysterious newcomer.

“It”s nice to know that you do exist after all,” Lord Exington said once the introductions were over. “We were almost afraid that Blackmoor here might have made you up.”

“Oh, he has,” Vivienne chuckled, quickly glancing at Benedict, and the others laughed along with her.

“I must ask,” Carol Jenkins chimed in, “your dress…Is it of French design?”

“You could say that,” Vivienne said with a nod. “I actually made it myself.”

Her response elicited a collective gasp of admiration from the women.

“Yourself!” Philippa Lemmington exclaimed. “That”s incredible! You simply must make one for me.”

“It”s stunning but quite different from what we”re used to here,” said Katherine Staunton, her gaze darting quickly from Vivienne”s dress to those of the other women.

“It”s so…revealing,” Felicia said, adding hastily, “But in a good way.”

“Thank you,” Vivienne said. “We French girls tend not to cover ourselves as much as you English girls do.”

“If that’s the case, I shall immediately make arrangements for a trip to France,” Lord Exington said with a mischievous grin.

Vivienne smirked. “Ah, I love it when men think that women dress the way they do solely for their benefit.”

“Don”t they?” Lord Exington asked, arching an eyebrow. He gazed at Vivienne as if she were a rare butterfly that had just landed on his hand.

“Of course not,” Vivienne said with mock annoyance. “Women dress for admiration.”

“Isn”t that the same thing?”

“It”s not because one can just as easily be admired by other women,” Vivienne said, pointedly glancing at the other ladies before adding, “Or by oneself.”

Lord Exington chuckled and nodded, tacitly conceding defeat.

“Oh, the dancing is about to resume,” Felicia said, glancing at the musicians taking their places on the dais in the corner of the room.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance?” Benedict said, turning to Vivienne.

“You may,” Vivienne replied, seemingly taken by surprise.

“I wouldn”t advise that,” Emily Ashcroft said, approaching their group and giving Benedict a crooked smile. “Mr. Blackmoor confessed his distaste for dancing. While we were dancing.”

Everyone laughed.

“I apologize,” Benedict smirked, “for thinking you could keep secrets, Miss Ashcroft.”

The group laughed again.

“I”ll request your second dance then,” Lord Exington said to Vivienne. “If you”re amenable.”

“I”ll think about it,” Vivienne replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

As the music began, Benedict took Vivienne”s hand and led her to the area of the room designated for dancing. Other couples followed suit, but Benedict knew all eyes were on them.

While dancing, they had to lean closer to each other to converse over the music without being overheard by others.

“Your friends seem nice,” Vivienne said, “And, as I”m sure you”re aware, most of the girls are clearly enamored with you.”

Benedict smirked. “I hope you”re not suggesting I marry one of them.”

Vivienne let out a brief laugh. “Oh no, that wouldn”t be wise, considering I still need that money.”

“Everyone likes you, by the way,” Benedict said after a pause. “The extravagant French girl.”

“Thanks, I adore feeling like a spectacle in a circus,” she joked.

“You look stunning,” said Benedict.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow at him.

“My grandfather warned me last night that if I don’t express enough appreciation, you might leave me for another man,” Benedict explained. “He thinks it”s impossible to tell if I”m in love with you.”

“He”s not entirely wrong,” Vivienne said. “And that is because you don’t talk with me in front of the others and barely smile.”

“That”s not true. I”ve been smiling at you all evening.”

“Well, you”ve been smirking at my jokes, and there”s a big difference.”

“I”ll make an effort to smile more, then,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“That’s much better.” Vivienne returned the smile. “By the way, have you noticed the matchmaker watching us?”

Benedict smirked. “She is likely upset with me for costing her money. She introduced me to a young lady today, hoping I’d be smitten with her and forget about you, securing her fee from my mother.”

“Which young lady?”

“Emily Ashcroft.”

“Which one is that?”

“The one in the blue dress we just spoke to.”

“Oh, her. I can tell she”s head over heels for you already.”

“I doubt it. We”ve only just met.”

“Fine, taken with you. She’s very beautiful, by the way.”

“If you think so.”

“Don’t you like her?”

“I do, but not in the way Hawthorne might hope, though.”

Vivienne narrowed her eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you queer?”

The question caught Benedict off guard, and he abruptly stopped moving. For a moment, they stood still in each other’s arms amidst the dancing crowd.

“I”m not,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Your face is scarlet.”

They continued the dance, but the atmosphere had turned awkward. Benedict felt a lump in his throat, unable to speak or respond to Vivienne”s snide comments about the guests and their peculiar fashions. He knew she was trying to distract him from his embarrassment, but he spent the rest of the dance hoping it would finally come to an end.

When it did, Benedict bowed to Vivienne, avoiding looking at her, and retreated to a table in the far corner of the room, an area mostly occupied by older and less attractive guests. Despite noticing some familiar young ladies sending smiles his way, he had no desire to engage in another dance, not with Vivienne or anyone else.

Vivienne didn”t pine for his company for long. Out of the corner of his eye, Benedict soon spotted her being escorted back to the dance floor by Lord Exington.

For some reason, Benedict felt a twinge of annoyance at the sight of them together.

He accepted a glass of wine from a passing footman and downed it in one swift motion.

“Tired already?” Felicia Blane asked as she settled into the seat beside him.

“You know how much I despise dancing,” Benedict said.

She smirked. “Oh, someone’s in a foul mood. Who upset you?”

“Life,” Benedict replied tersely.

Felicia laughed at his response. Benedict, however, didn”t share her amusement. He took another glass of wine from a footman and sipped it. The music had slowed down, and he noticed Lord Exington whispering something into Vivienne”s ear, making her laugh. She responded with a sly smirk, drawing a smile in return.

“My oh my, I can’t believe it,” Felicia commented, her gaze following his. “Is Benedict Blackmoor actually jealous?”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” Feeling a surge of irritation, Benedict averted his gaze to look at the other dancing couples. He noticed his mother, paired with the plump little Mr. Feldman, and his grandfather dancing with none other than Maria, the head of their staff.

“I”ve known you for almost your entire life, Benedict,” Felicia said meaningfully.

“My condolences, then,” he said sarcastically.

“You can”t hide anything from me.”

“I certainly hope I can. For both our sakes,” he quipped.

“Oh yes, you’re very mysterious,” Felicia said, her voice tinged with a hint of hurt disguised as humor. “Well, when you’re ready for a real conversation, you know where to find me.” She gave him a lingering look, playfully ruffled his hair, and left the table.

***

During the next intermission, Lady Hawthorne decided it was the perfect time for the ladies to showcase their musical talents. She suggested Emily Ashcroft to take the lead.

Emily”s piano performance was indeed remarkable, yet Benedict felt like this show had been staged solely for his benefit, with Miss Ashcroft as nothing more than a horse being paraded before a potential buyer. The thought annoyed him.

“She’s an outstanding pianist,” Benedict heard Lady Hawthorne confide to his grandfather. “A woman”s talent reveals much about her. If she’s already so accomplished, imagine her potential as a mother and as the right hand to her husband in managing the estate.”

“Quite so,” said Grandfather Henry, absorbed in the melody.

As soon as Emily finished her performance, she received a round of applause. Next, Philippa Lemmington took the stage, singing a melancholic song in a whiny tone while her cousin accompanied her on the piano.

Katherine Staunton was about to announce her performance when Lady Hawthorne abruptly grabbed Vivienne by the elbow. “We would be absolutely thrilled to hear you play, Miss LaFleur! Rumor has it you are remarkably talented.”

“I’d rather not,” Vivienne said, gently withdrawing her arm, which already bore red marks from Lady Hawthorne’s firm grip. “Playing pianoforte is not something I consider a talent of mine.”

“What is your talent then?” Lady Hawthorne asked, her smile straining to remain polite.

Vivienne glanced around the room thoughtfully. “Does anyone have a deck of cards?”

At her request, a footman quickly brought over a deck. Vivienne sat behind a table and skillfully shuffled the cards. The guests, intrigued by this turn of events, gathered around to watch.

“Let’s see then. I need a volunteer,” Vivienne announced. “Who will be first?”

“I volunteer,” Lord Exington declared, stepping up to the table. “Whatever the game may be.”

“Please, have a seat, Mr. Exington.” Vivienne motioned to the chair opposite her. “I shall either reveal a glimpse of your present or predict your future.”

Lord Exington chuckled. “I certainly hope not!”

“I’m quite serious, Lord Exington,” Vivienne replied, her expression turning unexpectedly grave. “These cards hold many secrets. If you’re wary of yours being revealed, you might want to offer this seat to someone else.”

“I”ll take my chances,” Lord Exington said confidently.

“As you wish,” replied Vivienne. She fanned out the shuffled deck and presented it to him. “Choose a card and place it on the table, face up.”

Lord Exington drew a card and put it on the table—it was the King of Spades.

“Another,” Vivienne instructed.

He drew again, revealing the Queen of Spades.

“Another,” she said.

This time, the Queen of Clubs was placed on the table.

“Another,” Vivienne prompted once more.

Lord Exington drew again, this time revealing the Queen of Diamonds.

“If the King represents me, it seems I”m in for a stroke of luck,” Lord Exington joked, and the comment elicited a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

“One might think so,” Vivienne said with a nod as soon as the laughter subsided. “Indeed, you appear to have many women in your life. However, the absence of hearts suggests that your endeavors might not lead to the outcomes you desire.”

“Thank you, Miss LaFleur. I suppose I”ll go and weep in a corner,” Lord Exington joked, drawing more laughter from the guests.

“I want to go next,” Emily Ashcroft said excitedly. As she sat down, her blue dress spread around her like an unfurling flower.

Vivienne reshuffled the deck and instructed, “Please draw a card.”

Emily placed the King of Clubs on the table. A hush fell over the room as she drew another card: the Jack of Diamonds, followed by the Five of Spades and the Five of Hearts.

“What does this mean?” Emily asked, looking at the cards, clearly puzzled.

Vivienne smiled and pointed to the letters and numbers on the cards: KJ55.

“I don”t understand,” Emily confessed.

“It spells ”kiss,”” Vivienne clarified. “You”re about to receive a kiss.”

Some of the guests gasped with surprise.

“Before marriage?” Beatrice interjected, her voice tinged with disapproval.

“Why not?” Vivienne chuckled. “In France, the tradition of not kissing before marriage is considered outdated and, frankly, a little silly.”

“Is it really?” Katherine Staunton echoed, her cheeks turning a shade of scarlet. “In England, it’s not even appropriate to discuss such things.”

“And rightly so,” Beatrice added. “I don”t believe our society is prepared for such drastic changes.”

“But what if you marry and then discover you don”t enjoy kissing your husband? Are you then expected to spend the rest of your life with him?” Vivienne questioned.

Beatrice blushed, and laughter once again filled the room.

“All right then,” Vivienne said, “Who wants to go next?”

“I do,” Benedict responded.

For a brief moment, Vivienne”s expression was inscrutable. Benedict, feeling a bit foolish about their earlier conversation, wanted to bridge the awkward gap that had formed between them.

“Please draw a card, Mr. Blackmoor,” Vivienne said.

He complied, drawing a Jack of Clubs. His next was the Jack of Hearts, followed by the Queen of Hearts, and then, an Ace of Hearts. The guests crowded around the table, eager to hear the prediction. Vivienne”s eyes met Benedict”s, a fleeting glimmer of surprise quickly replaced by a smile.

“Someone close to you is going to marry,” she said, gesturing to the Queen and Jack of Hearts. As the room”s focus shifted to Benedict, Vivienne quickly added, “I think it might be Mr. Percy.”

The attention then turned to Percy and Beatrice, who blushed under the unexpected gaze, a blend of surprise and delight on their faces.

Benedict observed Lady Hawthorne”s dismay as Vivienne”s fortune-telling was met with fascination, admiration, and enthusiasm. In the subsequent dances, Vivienne became the center of attention, with various gentlemen vying for her company, each clearly captivated by the allure of the enigmatic French heiress.

***

During the intermission before the final dance, Benedict approached Vivienne to request the last dance of the evening. She accepted, and as they joined hands, any past tensions between them seemed to dissolve.

“So, how am I doing?” Vivienne inquired as they began moving to the music.

“I’m afraid William Thornby has fallen for you,” Benedict joked lightly.

“Who’s that?”

“The short fellow with the slicked-back hair.”

“Oh, the one who kept stepping on my toes during our dance,” Vivienne recalled with a thoughtful nod.

“Yes, that”s him.”

“I had a feeling discussing premarital kissing in front of unmarried English gentlemen might have such an effect.”

“I’m sure,” Benedict said with a smirk. “By the way, what was all that about?”

“The kissing thing, you mean?”

“Yes. It seemed to stir quite a few guests, Beatrice especially.”

“Oh, I”m not sorry about that. I find it amusing to watch their prudish faces twist into all sorts of expressions.”

“It might give them wrong ideas.”

“Well, at least you will have a juicy story for when we announce our break-up,” Vivienne chuckled.

“Definitely. I shall spread the word that my affections cooled because you dared to steal a kiss before we were wed, a boldness I just couldn”t stand,” Benedict said.

“Oh, if all of this was real, I would have already kissed you just to piss you off,” Vivienne teased with a twist of her lips.

Benedict pulled her closer. “Keep smiling. My mother and grandfather are looking our way.”

“Do you think they”re suspicious?”

“About you being a man?”

“About our relationship not being genuine. But yes, that too.”

“I don”t think so.”

“When will you find out about the inheritance?”

“You do realize that”s not why I”m doing this?” Benedict said quietly, his gaze lowering to her.

“Why are you doing this then?” Vivienne asked curiously.

“My grandfather is dying. I don”t want him to think that I”m unhappy.”

“If you say so,” Vivienne said, smirking. “But there must be more to it. I can feel that you want the estate as well.”

Benedict pondered for a moment.

“I do,” he admitted finally. “But it”s not about wealth or influence. Becoming the head of this family would just mean a great deal to me. It”s about acceptance and affirmation of my worth.”

“Affirmation of worth,” Vivienne chuckled, rolling the words on her tongue. “Your lot is too caught up in superficial concepts. They don’t truly bring happiness, you know.”

“The estate is part of my heritage,” Benedict explained. “My roots. I was raised believing that it would one day be my responsibility to manage it. Being pushed aside and replaced, particularly by Percy, would be too much for me to bear.”

Vivienne didn”t reply, but Benedict could feel her gaze on him as if she was trying to understand something. For a few minutes, they danced in silence.

“So what do we do next?” Vivienne finally said, her finger lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“We”re hosting a hunting party tomorrow,” Benedict said. “Six o’clock in the evening. I would be happy if you could join us.”

“A hunting party?” Vivienne arched an eyebrow.

“Boar hunting,” Benedict clarified. “It’s dangerous, though.”

“I don”t like hunting. And I love animals. Even boars.”

“You don”t actually have to hunt. Just be there with me, for appearances” sake.”

“Fine. What should I wear?”

“Something comfortable.”

“Drag queens are never comfortable.”

“Are you uncomfortable right now?”

“You have no idea.”