A Rake, A Spinster, And An Arrangement

Chapter 9 : Rings and Vows (Ep 2)

Entering the ball on the Duke's arm somehow felt so strange, after the week that Hermione had had. Since Ronald had left London, things had been quiet - there had been no suitors at calling hours, they had not gone to the park, and for the most part, Hermione had spent all of her time reading.

Harry had been off at the club most days, spending time with his friends, while Ginny was busy with her mother... Something had happened in the past few days that had drawn them closer to one another, but whatever it was, Hermione was not privy to it.

She understood. There were some things that Hermione would never be able to discuss with anyone other than Lily. Some things that she would just have to keep to herself, from here on out.

Being without a mother, without her mother, during this, her first season... and hopefully her only one...

Thankfully, the past few days had felt more familiar than the chaos of the past few weeks. Her days were quiet and calm, and while she did not have any children that she was caring for, her days were also not filled with ball gowns and polite eating and gentlemen at the door. For that, Hermione was grateful.

The only thing that was different from her normal life was that which arrived each morning. They never had a card with them, but Hermione knew where they were from. It was also the same florist, the most expensive in the city. Only one man could afford to send such beautiful arrangements. Only one man would send such a gift without needing her to know that they were from him.

The Duke.

She had kept the card with his promise to her tucked away within the book he had given her. Both were often close at hand. They were keys to something, to a secret, to a whisper, to... She did not understand the man.

They had been clear with one another - Hermione was seeking a match, a gentleman that fit a clear list of ideals, and while he certainly did fit the list, he was lacking in two places; the first being that... she wanted a man that she could control. The Duke... he was not a man that would submit to his wife. Still... she imagined arguing with him, perhaps. Debating, really, but discussing literature, discussing politics... She wanted to see his eyes wild and angry again like they had been, when Ronald had demanded she marry him.

The second, however, was the most damning. He had made it abundantly clear that he would not marry. That he would never marry. That he was not the man that would be her husband.

Had that changed for him? Had something changed, in having Ronald pressuring them? Had something happened? Each vase of flowers that was delivered made her question his motives further. She had to ask him, before she began to assume. Hermione refused to have any form of miscommunication, particularly after what had just happened with her not being explicit to Ronald until it was too late.

The last delivery of flowers had been that morning, and it had been the first to carry a card in a number of days. Hermione had taken it without even glancing at the flowers themselves, running up to her room so that she could open the envelope in peace.

Dance with me. Tonight.

That was all it said. That was all it needed to say.

But now, now that she stood beside him, on his arm... He had been waiting for her, at the top of the steps when she arrived. He had immediately come down to her, offered her his hand, and helped her from the carriage. In fact, he had barely even given her brother a second glance.

Together, they had walked up the steps without saying a word. Something about the way he had waited, had come for her... that was the action of a man that could not stay away.