Rose Heart

Chapter 2

Lieutenant James Windsor sat in his small lodgings, staring at the invitation to the Royal Ball. He was not  surprised to receive it, as he was just a  soldier,an the ball was for their victory.

Not used to such high-society events, But his commanding officer, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had insisted he attend, saying it would be good for his morale and a chance to meet some influential people.

James sighed, feeling out of place. He had never been comfortable in fancy settings, and the thought of dancing and making small talk with strangers made him anxious. But he knew he had to push through it, for his own sake and for the sake of his future.

He stood up and began to pace around the room, his mind racing with thoughts of the ball and what it might bring. He thought about his fellow soldiers, who would never have the chance to attend such an event. He thought about his own dreams, of finding a sense of purpose and belonging.

As he paced, he noticed a letter on his desk, from his friend and fellow soldier, Captain Wentworth. He opened it and read the words of encouragement and support, feeling a surge of gratitude and friendship.

With newfound determination, James sat down to write a reply, his mind focused on the future and what it might hold.

James stood in front of the small mirror in his lodgings, adjusting his dress uniform for what felt like the hundredth time. He had never been one for fancy clothes, but he knew he had to make a good impression tonight.

He smoothed out the wrinkles on his jacket, making sure the gold buttons were polished and shiny. He tightened his cravat, trying to get the perfect knot. He brushed his hair, trying to tame the unruly strands that always seemed to stick up in every direction.

As he dressed, he thought about the ball and what it might bring. He thought about the people he would meet, the conversations he would have, and the possibilities that might arise. He felt a mix of excitement and nerves, but mostly determination.

Finally, he put on his sword and hat, and took a deep breath. He looked at himself in the mirror, and for a moment, he saw a stranger - a confident, handsome man who was ready to take on the world.

With a nod to himself, James headed out the door, ready to face whatever the night might bring.

At the ball:

Lord and Lady Ashdown stood in the grand ballroom of Netherwood Manor, surveying the crowd with pride. The royal family spared no expense in making this a night to remember, and the opulent decorations and lively music were a testament to their wealth and status.

As they scanned the room, their eyes landed on a tall, dark-haired man with piercing eyes and a chiseled jawline. He was standing by the refreshments, sipping a glass of champagne with an air of confidence and poise.

"Ah, there he is," Lord Ashdown said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Duke Blackwood, the most eligible bachelor in the land. And, darling Rose, he has his eyes on you."

Lady Ashdown smiled, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Yes, dear, this is the moment we've been waiting for. Your future is about to begin."

Rose's heart sank, but she forced a smile onto her face. She had no interest in the duke, but her parents were determined to make a match.

As they approached the duke, Rose's parents exchanged a knowing glance. "Your Grace," Lord Ashdown said, bowing low. "May I present my daughter, Rose?"

The duke turned to her, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her skin crawl. "Miss Ashdown." he said, his voice low and smooth. "It's an honor to finally meet you. I've heard so much about your beauty and grace."

Rose curtsied, her heart racing with discomfort. She knew this was just the beginning of a long and painful night.

"May I have this dance my lady." Lord Blackwood asked Rose.
She looked at her parents who were smiling at her. "Of course my Lord." She replied.

The music began, and Duke Blackwood led Rose onto the dance floor, his hand firmly on her waist. Rose felt a surge of discomfort at his touch, but she forced herself to relax and smile.

"You dance beautifully, Miss Ashdown," the duke said, his eyes gazing into hers.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Rose replied, trying to sound gracious. "You are quite skilled yourself."

The duke chuckled. "I've had plenty of practice, I assure you. But I must say, I've never had a partner as lovely as yourself."

Rose smiled politely, trying to hide her disinterest. "You're too kind, Your Grace."

As they twirled across the floor, the duke asked her questions about her interests and hobbies, but Rose could tell he wasn't really listening to her responses. He was too busy scanning the room, making sure everyone was watching them.

"So, Miss Ashdown," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, "I hear you're quite the reader. What do you think of the latest literary endeavors?"

Rose hesitated, unsure how to respond. She didn't want to offend him, but she couldn't pretend to be interested in something she didn't care about. "I...enjoy reading, Your Grace," she said vaguely.

The duke laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, perhaps I can recommend some books to you. I'm sure you would benefit from my expertise."

Rose felt a surge of annoyance at his patronizing tone, but she bit her tongue and smiled sweetly. "That would be lovely, Your Grace. Thank you."

As the music ended, the duke bowed low and kissed her hand, his eyes gleaming with self-satisfaction. Rose curtsied, feeling trapped and suffocated by the oppressive weight of his attention.

As Rose curtsied to the duke, she felt a sudden jolt of relief when he excused himself to fetch her a glass of champagne. She took a deep breath and scanned the room, searching for a escape from the suffocating attention.

That's when she saw him - a tall, broad-shouldered man with piercing blue eyes and a strong jawline, standing by the punch bowl. He was staring at her with an intensity that made her heart race.

Rose felt a flutter in her chest as their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, he smiled and began to make his way towards her.

"Miss Ashdown," he said, bowing low. "I'm James Windsor. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. You shine like a star in a sea of candles."

Rose laughed, feeling a spark of connection. "Mr. Winsdor, you're quite the poet. But I think you may be mistaken - I'm just a simple woman in a fancy dress."

James chuckled. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Miss Ashdown. You are most definitely not simple. And I think we could have a very interesting conversation."

Rose smiled, feeling a sense of ease with this stranger that she couldn't explain. "I think you may be right, Mr. Windsor. Let's dance and see where the night takes us."
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