Chapter 7
For a fleeting moment, Chloe thought she had been transported back in time from the chandelier-lit ballroom to the lush forests of Verdier. The Duke, whom she had not laid eyes upon in three years, was dressed in the very attire he had worn during their first encounter.
It was customary for ladies to wear gowns and gentlemen to don tailcoats at balls. The Duke, however, defied convention by wearing his formal military uniform, complete with a sword. No one dared to voice any objections; the power to disregard tradition was the mark of true authority.
“Th-Thank you, Your Grace,” stammered the young woman whom the Duke had asked to dance, her cheeks flushed crimson as she accepted his outstretched hand. Much like Chloe, she had been watching the dancing from her seat all evening.
“It is my pleasure, Lady Agnes,” Damien whispered in her ear.
