Page 64 of The Duke's Accidental Wallflower
Samantha hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I am not exactly trained in espionage,” she quipped, though her eyes softened at the panic etched across Minerva’s face. “But for you, I shall make an exception.”
Minerva swallowed, her throat feeling impossibly tight. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Just... please, Samantha, let me know.”
Samantha leaned in, giving Minerva’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I will,” she promised, her voice softening. Then, with a deftness that only Samantha could pull off in a crowded ballroom, she stood and glided toward the conversation, her expression turning playful and carefree to mask her true intentions.
Cherie, who had been hovering nearby, finally approached Minerva. She tilted her head, her keen eyes catching the tension. “What on earth is going on?” she asked, her voice low. “Why do you look as if you’re about to flee?”
Minerva barely managed a wry smile. “Lord Gillies,” she murmured, her voice tight. “Speaking to my father. Possibly about... a proposal.”
Cherie’s eyes widened, and she let out a soft, disbelieving scoff. “Good heavens. Are you serious?” She leaned in, her voice conspiratorial. “And you’re not thrilled about this, I take it?”
Minerva shook her head, her composure unraveling. “I should be,” she whispered.
Cherie’s brows drew together in a worried frown, and she glanced toward Samantha, who had managed to position herself near Lord Gillies and Lord Bellington, pretending to admire a nearby floral arrangement. “Well, let’s hope Samantha returns with good news,” Cherie said, her voice comforting but uncertain. “Otherwise, I may just help you stage a dramatic escape.”
Minerva tried to smile, but it felt forced, brittle. She nodded, her eyes never leaving Lord Gillies and her father. Her entire world felt as if it were teetering on the edge, and she had no idea how to steady herself.
Samantha slinked across the room, smiling and making small talk with other guests. When she made it finally to where LordGillies stood with her father, Minerva worried the conversation would finally be over. However, Samantha looked back to Minerva and gave her the tiniest nod.
Minerva sat slumped on the chaise in her bedroom, her knees pulled to her chest, and an almost-empty glass of champagne dangling from her fingers. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moonlight seeping in through the curtains, casting silvery patterns across the floor. Her sobs echoed off the walls, raw and unrestrained, as tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
How foolish she had been. How utterly naive to think, even for a fleeting moment, that Evan could be something more than the charming, rakish rogue everyone knew him to be. She hated herself for believing, for hoping, that beneath his facade lay a man who could care for her.
The door creaked open, and Minerva barely registered the sound. Her whole world had been reduced to this crushing sense of loss, this ache she couldn't shake. It wasn’t until she heard the soft gasp that she realized she wasn’t alone. She looked up through tear-blurred eyes to see Chastity standing in the doorway, her face pale with worry.
“Minerva?” Chastity’s voice wavered, and she rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside her sister. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Minerva tried to muster a smile, but it crumbled into another sob. “I am fine,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “Just... terribly fine.”
Chastity reached for the champagne glass, gently prying it from Minerva’s trembling grip and setting it aside. “You do not look fine,” she said softly, her brows knitting together with concern. “You are... crying. I have never seen you like this.”
Minerva barely registered Chastity’s expression, but she could see enough to know that her sister was shocked, maybe even alarmed. She felt the weight of Chastity’s hands on her shoulders, grounding her even as her own composure crumbled. She had spent so long being the strong one, the composed one—the sister who always had everything under control. But now, here she was, falling apart in a way she never had before.
Chastity leaned closer, her voice soft but urgent. “Minerva, please,” she said. “I have never seen you like this. What happened?”
Minerva couldn’t hold back her tears, the words spilling out in broken sobs. “I am sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I didn’t mean to worry you. It is... it is everything. I have tried so hard to keep everything together, to protect you, to be strong. And now it is all... falling apart.”
Chastity's arms wrapped around Minerva, pulling her into a warm, protective embrace. Minerva clung to her, feeling the fragility in her own chest, the way the grief and disappointmenttwisted inside her like a physical ache. She had tried so hard to do everything right, and still, she was left feeling shattered.
Chastity’s voice came again, gentle but steady. “Is it... about Lord Wellford?” she asked, searching Minerva’s face. “Or is there something else?”
Minerva drew a shaky breath, the name that haunted her heart slipping from her lips. “It is... him. Evan.”
A look of understanding dawned in Chastity’s eyes, and Minerva knew her sister understood. Even without the details, Chastity saw her pain. “Did he hurt you?” Chastity’s voice was filled with concern.
Minerva squeezed her eyes shut, the memories cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “He made me feel like I mattered,” she confessed, her voice breaking. “And then he left. He doesn’t want me. No one ever does.”
The room felt stifling, heavy with Minerva’s own sense of failure and heartbreak. She didn’t dare look at Chastity, fearing the pity she might see in her sister’s eyes. But Chastity only held her tighter, refusing to let her slip away into the darkness.
“That’s not true,” Chastity said fiercely, her voice shaking with emotion. “You are worthy of love, Minerva. So worthy. If he cannot see that, then he is a fool.”
Minerva wanted to believe her, but the ache inside her wouldn’t be soothed so easily. “But I wanted him to see,” she whispered, her voice thick with grief. “I wanted it to be him.”
Chastity pulled back just enough to look into Minerva’s tear-streaked face, her expression filled with unwavering support. “I am here, Minerva,” she said, her voice breaking. “I will always be here.”
Minerva pulled back slightly from Chastity’s embrace, wiping at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. Her breath hitched as she tried to gather herself, to speak the words that had been lodged in her chest for days.
“Chastity,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “There’s something else.”
