Page 47 of A Virgin to Trap the Earl of Thornhill
It was a simple statement, yet it echoed in Eris’ heart with the soothing cadence of truth. She might not have control over William’s affections, but she had control over her own worth. And that realization, while bittersweet, kindled a spark of hope within her.
The tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by a cacophony of harsh voices echoing from the lower level of the house. Startled, Eris quickly rose to her feet, her heart pounding as she hurriedly crossed the room and rushed to the top of the grand staircase.
Peering down into the grand foyer, Eris found herself staring at a chaotic scene. Her father, Viscount Blackwell, stood rigid in the face of two men who were the very picture of predatory menace. Their clothing, a mishmash of worn-out materials, hung haphazardly off their large frames, and their unshaven faces were set in hard lines.
One man, a greasy hat tipped low over his eyes, gestured emphatically with a grimy piece of paper as he spoke. “The debt must be settled by the end of the month, Lord Blackwell. Or else.”
His voice trailed off into a threatening silence, his message clearly understood. From the corner of the room, Eris could see her mother, Viscountess Blackwell, her normally vibrant face pale and tear-streaked as she clutched a handkerchief to her lips.
Fear and horror clawed at Eris, her blood running cold. The reality of her family’s situation crashed down on her, leaving her feeling as though the floor had been ripped from beneath her feet. She had not realized just how dire their circumstances had become.
With great effort, Eris managed to tear her gaze away from the confrontation. She found herself staring at the ornate tapestry adorning the wall beside her, her mind spinning. Her parents may have their flaws, but they were her family. She loved them, despite everything.
Shaking and with newfound resolve hardening her spine, Eris quietly retreated back to her room. She had to set her feelings for William aside. This was bigger than her own heartache. She would do what it took to salvage her family’s dignity and standing. There was no other choice.
Eris sat down in a chair. Nanette began to brush her hair. Suddenly, the door burst open, and in walked her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Blackwell. Their faces were stern, their demeanor serious. Nanette quickly excused herself, the silent tension causing her to retreat.
Her mother looked strained and anxious. Her eyes darted between Eris and the door as if she feared their conversation might be overheard. Her father, still rumpled from his earlier encounter with the debt collectors, had a hardened look of determination in his eyes.
“Eris, darling,” her mother began, her voice shaky, “we need to have a serious discussion about tonight’s event.”
Eris watched as her father paced back and forth. He interjected, his voice harsh and gruff. “You must understand the severity of our situation, Eris. The family is on the brink of ruin.”
Her mother continued, “Your father and I… we have done everything we can to provide for you to give you the life you deserve, but the debts are overwhelming.”
“We need you to make a match, Eris,” her father cut in again. “And not just any match. A wealthy one. Tonight.”
“The rumors are already starting,” her mother added. “If you do not secure a proposal soon, no respectable man will have you.”
Her father’s next words were a blow, even harsher than the rest. “If you do not secure a match at the ball, Eris, we will have to make arrangements ourselves. And you may not like the result.”
His words hung in the air, a chilling warning of what was at stake. Their threats rang in her ears.Secure a match or face the consequences.
“That will not be necessary, Father,” she retorted, her voice filled with newfound determination. “I am not a pawn in a chess game to be maneuvered at will. I will secure a match at the ball, not because of the threat you just laid out, but because I understand the repercussions of not doing so. But let me be clear, this is not my mistake, so do not misunderstand my actions.”
Her parents looked taken aback at her assertiveness, but they said nothing more. They silently retreated and left her alone with her thoughts.
As her parents’ words of warning and threats echoed in her mind, Eris prepared for the ball. Nanette finished her hair and then helped her dress. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, the tension in the air as palpable as a physical entity. It seemed her parents were willing to sacrifice their own daughter in the name of their financial stability.
Eris stared at her reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman who stared back. Dressed in a ball gown of the finest golden silk that shimmered with every movement she made, she felt less like a debutante and more like a sacrificial lamb adorned for the altar.
The gown clung to her in all the right places before cascading down in a waterfall of silken fabric. The bodice, embroidered with intricate designs in gold thread, sparkled under the candlelight. Her slippers, covered in the same glorious golden material, were barely visible beneath the hem of her gown. Her dark hair was elaborately arranged with tendrils escaping to soften her features. Her rosy cheeks and lips stood out against the paleness of her skin, and her blue eyes sparkled but not with excitement or joy.
Eris looked every bit the elegant lady her mother hoped she would be, but the beauty of her exterior did nothing to quell the storm raging within her. With each passing second, the ball drew nearer, and the weight of what she had to do settled heavily on her shoulders.
She felt beautiful, yes, but it was a hollow feeling, tinged with a sadness that gripped her heart and squeezed. She was being paraded in front of society, her virtue and very future being sold to the highest bidder. It was a chilling thought, one that turned the excitement of the upcoming ball into a dread-filled nightmare.
Gazing at her reflection one last time, Eris drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the night to come. She was not just going to a ball. She was going to face her future, and she was terrified. If she failed, it would be her family’s ruination. If she succeeded, it would ruin her.
The journey to the Duchess’ ball was undertaken in deafening silence, the only sound the rhythmic clop of the horses’ hooves and the occasional jolt of the carriage wheels over the cobblestones. Eris’ parents sat opposite her, each lost in their own thoughts. The tension was almost palpable, curling in the air between them like a physical presence. The words they had spoken earlier still echoed in Eris’ mind. A match. A wealthy one. Tonight.
The grand manor house of the Duke and Duchess of Hartville appeared through the carriage window, its facade brilliantly illuminated by the flickering glow of countless lanterns. The impressive stone building was awash in light, casting long, dancing shadows on the immaculate lawn. Carriages, each one grander and more opulent than the last, lined the path leading to the entrance. Ladies and gentlemen in their finest attire stepped out, their excited chatter mingling with the night air.
The carriage came to a halt, and a footman promptly opened the door. Eris stepped out onto the cobblestone path, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The grandeur of the scene before her was stunning. The vibrancy of the gowns, the luster of the jewels, the energy of the crowd — it was a spectacle that she had witnessed countless times before, but tonight it all seemed surreal.
What if she failed her family? What if she wasn’t able to secure a proposal? A shiver of dread coursed through her at the thought, yet she swallowed her fears and pressed on.
With one final look at her parents, Eris ascended the steps toward the grand entrance. Her footsteps were steady, her posture regal, and her expression firm, but inside, she was a tempest of emotions. Fear, anxiety, and resolve — they churned within her, fueling her determination.
