His touch. His kisses.Him.

Agnes pulled away to do a small dance with the other ladies while the gentlemen stood and watched, most of them with happy, lost smiles. Only Matthew just watched her with such intense eyes that made her breaths quicken.

When they finished their dance, she slid back into Matthew’s arms, and then unable to take it anymore, she looked up at him. “I’m curious about something. Why did you accept my request for a dance, Your Grace?”

The question hung in the air, and Matthew, his response tinged with a growl, put his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet in the soft, graceful dance. “I have no idea.”

Undeterred, Agnes pressed further. “I don’t think that’s possible, Your Grace,” she said, hoping Matthew would finally say something.

However, Matthew’s glare silenced her. “I have no idea, but if you keep asking me questions, I’m sure I’ll regret my decision soon enough.”

Biting her lip, Agnes nodded, choosing to let the haunting melody and the intimate dance speak the unspoken words between them.

As Agnes and Matthew danced, their eyes locked, their hands intertwined, and their steps spoke volumes.

In the midst of their dance, Agnes looked away from the dance floor and took notice of Ewan, who stood close by, a confused frown on his face. As if his eyes questioned why she chose Matthew over him.

Agnes only looked away from him. It was only in his dreams that she would want him.

Matthew twirled her, and she caught a glimpse of her mother’s disapproving glare at the other end of the ballroom. Her eyes shone with anger.

Again, Agnes just looked away, uncaring, unaffected.

Mary’s anger no longer held power over Agnes. She had chosen Matthew, Society be damned.

Well, unless Matthew would reject her.

It would make sense if he did. After all, she had hurt him too much.

Her silent rebellion continued until the dance ended. Matthew executed a small bow and looked away, about to leave. Undeterred and a bit frustrated, Agnes caught his hand before he stepped away from her.

Matthew snapped his face toward her, and she offered a soft, vulnerable smile. “Give me a chance to explain, Matthew, please,” she whispered, but Matthew just stared at her for a few seconds, his dark, indifferent eyes betraying nothing.

Then, as if reluctantly, Matthew nodded, his hands tightening around hers and leading her away from the dance floor to a secluded spot.

Agnes’s heart beat faster in her chest as they weaved their way through the crowd, till they stepped out of the ballroom and into a room where tools were kept.

The door clicked shut behind her, putting them in darkness.

Agnes turned with a soft gasp.

Where is he?

Her hands slowly moved up in the darkness, as if to feel him out.

“M-Matthew?” she whispered in the darkness and then gasped when she suddenly heard his voice right beside her ear.

“Are you scared… Agnes?”

She gasped and took a hasty step backward, making the tools in the room clank loudly.

Swearing under his breath, Matthew’s hand shot forward in the darkness to catch her before she called the attention of the whole of Society to them.

His arms wrapped around her waist and drew her almost harshly to his chest, her gasp loud as her fragile hands splayed across his chest.

“You scared me!” she whisper-yelled.

Her heart beat so loud. Her pulse seemed to be running a race.