Page 4 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

“Ah, my dear friend,” Stephen began with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You wouldn’t believe the latest ‘adventures’ I’ve had with a certain widowed lady of the ton.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect of a scandalous tale. “Pray tell, Stephen. I could use a good story to distract myself from the absurdity of the ball.”

“Well, my friend,” Stephen began with theatrical flair. “I found myself in a rather compromising situation at Lady Chatterton’s ball last week. You know how she loves her grand affairs. I spotted Lady Harrington across the room, her gaze filled with longing and mischief. We exchanged a few knowing glances, and before I knew it, I found myself sneaking off with her to a hidden alcove in the garden.”

Matthew leaned in, thoroughly captivated by the tale. “And then what happened?”

Stephen continued, his voice low and suggestive, “Ah, the thrill of secrecy, the allure of whispered words. We found ourselves under the moonlight, hidden from prying eyes. She confessed her desires, and I, of course, obliged. It was a night filled with passion and adventure, my dear friend, one that will surely go down in the annals of ton history.”

Matthew couldn’t help but chuckle at Stephen’s audacity and the way he spun the tale. While he might not share the same passion for these escapades, he couldn’t deny the charm in Stephen’s storytelling and the ability to temporarily transport him from the stifling ballroom to a world of intrigue and adventure.

After a while, Stephen excused himself with a charming smile. “I should return to the ball, my friend. Duty calls.”

Matthew nodded in understanding, exhaling a plume of smoke from his cigar. “Of course, Stephen. I’ll join you in a while. Enjoy the festivities.”

As Stephen made his way back into the ballroom, Matthew remained in the garden, his thoughts drifting as he savored the solitude. The night air was a welcome respite, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the moments of tranquility amid the chaos of the ton.

With each puff of his cigar, he found solace in the shadows, a small rebellion against the expectations of high society. As he contemplated his brief escape, a witty remark danced on the edge of his thoughts, a defiant nod to the ballroom that he had temporarily left behind.

Ah, the joys of another splendid ton gathering.Who needs the allure of endless chatter and feigned politeness when you have the serenity of the night and a fine cigar?

CHAPTER2

This was a whole new world, Agnes Pilton thought to herself as she stepped into the grand ballroom, her heart racing at the opulence that surrounded her.

She hoped she did not look as surprised and in awe as she felt. It would be unladylike.

This really is a ball fit for royalty.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of what looked like a thousand candles, their flickering flames casting a warm, inviting light over the revelers. The walls were adorned with gilded mirrors and intricate tapestries, and the polished marble floors gleamed underfoot.

The guests, resplendent in their utterly fashionable attires, twirled and waltzed to the enchanting melodies played by the string quartet in the corner.

Agnes was too sure only the elite got to attend parties like these. No wonder her mother fussed so much over her appearance.

Again, before she could stop herself, Agnes felt that pang in her heart again. She was not supposed to be the one here. Not at all. Not on a night like this where Rose, her sister, would have gotten a wealthy, noble suitor.

But since Rose was absent, the mantle automatically fell on Agnes, and she hated every bit of it. Her mother made sure of that.

Agnes shook the sad thoughts from her head and looked out on the dance floor.

Beautifully dressed couples danced happily. Agnes saw that the ladies’ gowns were a riot of silks and lace, their intricate hairstyles adorned with delicate flowers and feathers. The gentlemen, dashing in their tailored coats and waistcoats, moved with grace and charm, making her feel as though she had stepped into a world of fairytales.

Yet, despite the grandeur of the ball, Agnes couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion washing over her. She had barely been here for an hour, and already, the swirl of activity and endless conversations threatened to overwhelm her.

Oh, how she longed for the comfort of her own home, away from the scrutiny and demands of Society.

As her thoughts drifted, she let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. “I wish I could go home,” she mumbled under her breath, her words escaping before she could stop them.

Then, she froze.

Did her mother hear that?

Her mother, who was standing beside her, turned her head with a stern and disapproving look, and Agnes sighed.

Of course.

“Agnes,” her mother whispered sharply, “one does not express such sentiments in public. It is unbecoming of a lady.”

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