Page 55 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

The irony of the situation did not escape Agnes—her heart aching for another man while pretending to be captivated by Ewan’s charms.

Agnes forced a smile, her eyes betraying a hidden sadness. “Indeed, My Lord, your striking appearance is quite overwhelming.”

Ewan, taking the flattery in stride, continued to laugh. “Well, I must say, I’ve been told I have a certain charm.”

Agnes, masking her inner turmoil, added with feigned enthusiasm, “Charm, indeed, My Lord. It’s a pleasure to be graced by your presence.”

As Ewan continued to laugh, Agnes wrestled with the conflicting emotions within her. She played the part, mustering a smile and a light-hearted comment about the impact of his presence.

Ewan, with rehearsed charm, finally complimented Agnes. “Miss Agnes, you do look truly lovely this morning. Not to waste your time, I’m here to let you know that I want to make my intentions for you clear.”

Agnes, feigning innocence, responded with an innocent inquiry, “Intentions, My Lord? Pray, what would those be?”

Ewan, seizing the opportunity to showcase his presumed desirability, took a step closer. “My intentions, Miss Agnes, are to make my courtship of you official. I wish to be your suitor, to court you with the utmost sincerity and dedication.”

The air in the room hung with a mixture of anticipation and tension. Agnes, maintaining her composed facade, listened to Ewan’s elaborate speech about the great fortune she would have in being associated with him. She nodded at the right moments, hoping she didn’t look as lifeless as she felt.

As Ewan, confident in his words, took Agnes’s delicate hand in his, the room brimmed with a charged atmosphere. Agnes, momentarily lost in conflicting emotions, allowed the touch. However, as Ewan leaned in to kiss her hand, a subtle shiver ran down her spine. The memory of Matthew’s tender kiss from weeks ago flashed vividly in her mind.

Reacting instinctively, she withdrew her hand abruptly, catching Ewan off guard. Concern etched his features, and he inquired, “Miss Agnes, is everything all right?”

Agnes, quick to mask her inner turmoil, responded with practiced poise, “Oh, My Lord, forgive my sudden bashfulness. I’m just a tad shy when it comes to such attention.”

Ewan, seemingly satisfied with her explanation, continued to extol his virtues, oblivious to the complex emotions she concealed beneath her composed demeanor.

CHAPTER19

The soft crinkling of glasses against each other grated on Agnes’s nerves rather than calm them like it used to. The soft goodies of laughter and the songs that played in the background did nothing to ease her soul.

In the glittering ballroom of Prince Edward, Agnes just stood by the window, a glass of champagne in hand. What else could she do, anyway? She had no interest in dancing or merriments.

The opulence of the royal wedding surrounded her, but the weight on her heart dampened the splendor of the event.

I would rather be at home, tucked in my bed and crying my heart out all over again.

Sighing and sipping her champagne, Agnes took a moment to look out the window of the ballroom. The grandeur of the celebration couldn’t mask the ache within her. The past weeks had demanded a facade, a performance of joy and interest in potential suitors, just as Lady Young wanted.

Agnes remembered how she had smiled when necessary, blushed on cue, made compliments she didn’t mean, and laughed at jokes that failed to reach her heart. She had been doing that for weeks now.

Tonight, however, was different.

She was tired. In the subdued glow of the ballroom, Agnes sighed. She craved a moment of authenticity, a chance to break the facade and embrace the solitude she longed for.

As the orchestral melodies filled the air and couples twirled across the dance floor, Agnes just felt an overwhelming need to be away from it all.

Still lost in her depressing thoughts, Agnes scanned the grand ballroom, smiling and nodding gracefully at the people who greeted her as her eyes fell on them.

Then, she froze.

There, just across the room, a pair of dark eyes watched her with such intensity.

Matthew.

Her heart skipped a beat. An ache so deep, so wrenching, settled within her as she observed him. Clad in impeccable attire that accentuated his noble station, Matthew appeared as captivating as ever.

He looked dashing. But he could look better, Agnes thought with a small bitter smile. Ah, yes, he would look way better if he smiled.

But, of course, Matthew would never smile at her again.

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