𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

the rift.

The carriage ride to the ball was a study in contrasts. While Daphne and Charlotte chatted amiably about the evening's prospects, Anthony remained silent, his brooding presence a dark cloud over their conversation. The grand ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate loomed ahead, its facade glowing in the soft light of countless lanterns. As they disembarked, the strains of a lively waltz drifted out to greet them, mingling with the laughter and conversation of the assembled guests.

Charlotte's breath caught as she stepped into the ballroom. It was a scene of breathtaking splendor: crystal chandeliers cascaded light onto the polished marble floor, gilded mirrors reflected the swirling colors of gowns and uniforms, and garlands of fresh flowers adorned every surface. The air was alive with the fragrance of roses and the sound of music, creating an atmosphere of enchantment.

Anthony, ever the gentleman despite his earlier behavior, offered Charlotte his arm as they made their way through the crowd. She accepted, her fingers lightly resting on his sleeve. For a moment, their eyes met, and Charlotte thought she saw a flicker of something softer in his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual stern expression.

"Try not to trip over your own feet," Anthony muttered under his breath. Charlotte shot him a sidelong glance.

"I could say the same to you, My Lord," she retorted, her tone cool.

They were soon joined by Daphne, who introduced Charlotte to a number of her friends and acquaintances. Lord Ashford, a tall, handsome man with a charming smile, was particularly attentive.

"Miss Hamilton," he said, bowing low. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance?"

Charlotte glanced at Anthony, whose jaw tightened imperceptibly. She smiled at Lord Ashford, accepting his offer with a graceful nod.

"I would be delighted, my Lord," she replied, taking his offered hand.

As they moved onto the dance floor, Charlotte was acutely aware of Anthony's eyes on her. The waltz was a dreamy, romantic tune, and Lord Ashford proved to be an excellent dancer. He led her with effortless grace, his touch gentle but assured. They glided across the floor, seamlessly weaving through the other couples.

"You dance beautifully, Miss Hamilton," Lord Ashford complimented, his gaze warm. "It is a pleasure to be your partner."

"You are too kind, my Lord," Charlotte replied, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "The pleasure is mine."

Their conversation flowed easily, and Charlotte found herself genuinely enjoying Lord Ashford's company. He was witty and charming, and his manners were impeccable. As the dance drew to a close, he escorted her back to her place with a promise of another dance later in the evening.

Anthony was waiting, his expression unreadable. He stepped forward as Lord Ashford took his leave, his eyes lingering on Charlotte.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, his tone neutral.

"Very much so," Charlotte replied, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the dance. "Lord Ashford is a delightful partner."

"Is he?" Anthony's voice was carefully controlled, but there was an edge to it that Charlotte couldn't quite place.

Before she could respond, Benedict and Colin approached, both grinning broadly.

"Charlotte! That was splendid!" Benedict exclaimed, clapping her on the shoulder. "You were the envy of the room."

"And did you see Anthony's face?" Colin added with a chuckle. "I thought he might combust on the spot."

Anthony shot his brothers a warning look, but they merely laughed and wandered off in search of mischief. Charlotte turned back to Anthony, her curiosity piqued.