Page 56 of Duke of Silver
Fresh excitement bubbled within Alexander, a rare emotion that took him by surprise. The thought of presenting Elizabeth with another gift, especially after the way her eyes had lit up at the sight of the first dress, filled him with a sense of anticipation. He wanted to see that smile again, to know he had brought her a moment of genuine happiness in the midst of all the tension they faced.
The decision was made almost instinctively. He wanted something more than just a dress this time—something that would truly convey his intentions, perhaps even bridge the distance that still lingered between them.
He summoned the butler without delay.
“You called, Your Grace?” the man inquired as he entered the study, his demeanor as composed as ever.
“I need the keys to the old rooms,” Alexander said.
CHAPTER 25
“Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again, Uncle,” Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice brimming with warmth as she buried herself in her uncle’s welcoming embrace.
“And even better to see you, my dear child,” he responded, his arms enveloping her with a comforting squeeze. When he finally released her, his eyes shone with genuine affection. “Do have some lemonade, will you?” he offered, gesturing toward the refreshment on a nearby tray. “I had it brought in just before your arrival.”
“Sounds marvelous,” Elizabeth replied, slipping off her kid gloves and settling into the sitting area by the hearth in his study. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of calm that she had sorely missed.
“The weather is a bit warmer today after all,” her uncle noted as he handed her a glass of lemonade, the coolness of the drink a welcome reprieve from the heat.
“Any excuse to indulge in something cold, sweet, and sour, right, Uncle?” she teased, a soft chuckle escaping her as she took a sip. The lemonade was as refreshing as she had anticipated.
“Indeed,” he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But then his expression grew more serious as he asked, “How have you been?”
“Very well,” Elizabeth replied, though the words felt more like a practiced response than a true reflection of her feelings. She took another sip of the lemonade, hoping it would wash away the unease that threatened to surface.
Her uncle’s gaze lingered on her, thoughtful and probing, as if he could see past the veneer she had carefully constructed. After a moment, he finally spoke, “Glad to hear that then. Else I would have marched down to Sterlin House with my most efficient blunderbuss right this moment.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh, the image of her uncle storming the estate with his old blunderbuss both absurd and endearing. “How have you been, then, Uncle?” she asked, steering the conversation back to him. “And everyone?”
“Oh, your aunt and sisters are as rambunctious as ever. And me, I just try to keep up,” he replied with a chuckle, the fondness in his voice clear.
Elizabeth smiled, the warmth of the exchange soothing her nerves. But there was still one question that weighed heavily on her mind, one she had to ask despite the risk of shatteringthe fragile peace. “And how has society been treating you after everything?” she inquired, her voice carefully measured.
Her uncle opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, the butler interrupted, entering the room with a silver tray bearing a stack of freshly delivered invitations.
“Why, it’s another ball,” her uncle squinted at the embossed papers as he sorted through them.
Elizabeth felt a small surge of relief as she watched him examine the invitations. The fact that her family still received such invitations was a good sign, a glimmer of hope that they had not been entirely ostracized.
“Will you be going too?” her uncle asked, handing her the invitations to peruse.
“If we receive an invitation, why not?” Elizabeth responded, trying to sound confident even as that familiar voice of anxiety whispered in the back of her mind, reminding her of the many reasons they might not be welcomed.
“I see no reason why they wouldn’t extend one to you and your husband,” her uncle said, his tone reassuring.
Elizabeth forced a smile, grateful for his optimism, though she couldn’t silence the doubts that lingered. Her uncle hadn’t mentioned the rumors—not that she had expected him to after what Anna had told her. The subject was delicate, and shedecided then that she would keep her own silence on the matter as well.
“Oh, speaking of invitations,” she said, suddenly recalling the purpose of her visit. “Alexander and I would like to host the family for dinner soon.”
“We would be honored,” her uncle beamed, the genuine pleasure in his expression easing some of the tension in her heart.
Elizabeth left her uncle’s home feeling a bit lighter, but the reality of their situation remained with her. Upon returning home, she found that the same ball invitations her uncle had received had also arrived for her and Alexander. It seemed society was willing to give them a chance, and she knew they had to make the most of it.
The day before the ball, Elizabeth entered her bedchamber and was greeted by a sight that took her breath away. Laid out on her bed was an exquisite evening dress of midnight blue satin and lace, its rich fabric shimmering in the soft light. Next to the dress was a small box and a note.
Her heart quickened as she picked up the note and unfolded it, her eyes scanning the elegant handwriting:
My dear,
