Scandal Of The Heart

Chapter 3

The ballroom of the Duke of Harrington’s estate glittered under the soft glow of chandeliers, their light reflecting off the silks and jewels of the ton’s finest. Lady Eliza Thornton stood by the refreshment table, her gloved hands gripping a delicate glass of champagne as she scanned the room, searching for a distraction from the conversation she had just fled. She had grown weary of the endless discussions of marriage and fortune, of who had aligned with whom, and which ladies were setting their sights on eligible bachelors. It was the same at every ball, and tonight was no different.

Her attention drifted, as it often did, to the staff moving discreetly around the room. She caught sight of footmen serving guests, and her thoughts inevitably wandered to Thomas Grayson. Though he wasn’t present tonight, she couldn’t help but think of him—of the quiet moments they had shared, the stolen conversations in the garden, and the way he made her feel seen in a way no one else did. But that was foolishness, she told herself. She was a lady, and he was a servant. Such thoughts could only lead to disaster.

A voice interrupted her thoughts, sharp and unwelcome.

“Lady Eliza, how delightful to see you standing all alone,” Lord Daventry’s oily voice cut through her reverie. She stiffened as he approached, his wide smile not reaching his calculating eyes. Lord Daventry was the last man she wished to speak with tonight. His courtship had been relentless since her family began entertaining his suit, and no matter how many polite refusals Eliza gave, he persisted.

“Lord Daventry,” Eliza said with a practiced smile. “How… lovely to see you.”

“Isn’t it just?” he replied, stepping far too close for comfort. “I was hoping to have the pleasure of your company for the next dance.”

Eliza inwardly grimaced. She had been trying to avoid him all evening, but now that he had cornered her, she knew it would be impossible to escape without causing a scene.

“I’m afraid I was just about to—”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, already extending his arm as if the matter was settled. “It would be quite improper for a lady such as yourself to remain unpartnered at such an event.”

Eliza’s temper flared, but she bit her tongue. He wasn’t wrong. As much as she despised Lord Daventry, rejecting him publicly would cause unwanted attention, and her family had already voiced their approval of the match. Still, the thought of enduring another dance with him, his hand too tight on her waist and his breath too close to her ear, made her skin crawl.

Reluctantly, she placed her hand on his arm, allowing him to lead her to the center of the ballroom. The music swelled as couples glided across the polished floor, and Eliza found herself locked in step with Lord Daventry. His grip on her waist was firm, possessive, and she had to fight the urge to pull away.

“You look enchanting tonight, my lady,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “As always.”

“Thank you,” Eliza replied stiffly, her eyes focused anywhere but on him. Her mind wandered, desperately searching for an escape from this tiresome interaction. She scanned the edges of the room, hoping for some form of distraction, but instead, her gaze landed on a familiar figure in the shadows.

Thomas.

He was standing near the servants’ entrance, clearly sent by the Thornton household to assist with the evening’s needs. Eliza’s heart gave a sudden, unexpected lurch at the sight of him. He was watching her, his expression unreadable, though his gaze lingered on her for longer than propriety allowed. She quickly averted her eyes, but her pulse raced.

Lord Daventry followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he noticed where her attention had strayed.

“A new footman, I see,” he said, his tone suddenly colder. “You seem distracted, my lady. I hope it’s not the staff who’s caught your interest.”

Eliza’s breath caught. She forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “I assure you, my mind is entirely on the dance.”

But Lord Daventry wasn’t convinced. He pulled her a little closer, his fingers pressing harder into her waist. “You’d do well to remember your place, Lady Eliza. Your father expects great things for you. A lady of your standing should not be looking below her station.”

Eliza’s stomach twisted at his words, his possessive tone sending a shiver down her spine. She had never liked Lord Daventry, but now his arrogance and entitlement filled her with revulsion. The thought of spending her life with him, of being subjected to his controlling nature, was unbearable.

The dance felt interminable, but finally, the music drew to a close, and Eliza stepped back, removing her hand from his arm with as much grace as she could muster.

“Thank you for the dance,” she said, her voice tight.

Lord Daventry’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Of course, my lady. I do hope we can speak more privately later.”

Before Eliza could respond, a commotion broke out near the far end of the ballroom. Several guests turned their heads, murmuring as a servant stumbled, nearly spilling a tray of champagne. Eliza seized the opportunity.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I must see to this,” she said, using the distraction to slip away from Lord Daventry’s clutches.

As she hurried toward the far side of the ballroom, she made sure to keep her steps purposeful, as though she truly intended to assist with the disturbance. But her real goal was to find a place to breathe, away from the prying eyes of Lord Daventry and the oppressive gaze of the ton.

She ducked into the shadows near the entrance to the garden, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t noticed how much the tension had weighed on her until she was free of it. She leaned against the cool marble pillar, closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

Eliza’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the familiar voice. Thomas stood a few feet away, his brow furrowed in concern. Her heart gave another involuntary flutter at the sight of him, though she quickly composed herself.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, though her voice lacked conviction. “It’s just… Lord Daventry can be rather overwhelming.”

Thomas’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening slightly. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his tone laced with quiet disapproval.

Eliza glanced around to ensure no one was watching them, then took a step closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I could refuse him outright, but my family…”

“You shouldn’t have to tolerate such behavior,” Thomas said firmly. “Not from anyone.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, sent a surge of warmth through Eliza. He was right, of course. She shouldn’t have to endure Lord Daventry’s attentions simply because society expected it. But the reality of her position made things far more complicated.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I feel trapped.”

Thomas’s expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed to forget the vast difference in their stations. He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against hers in the shadows. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her.

“You’re stronger than you think, my lady,” he said softly. “Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, the world around them seemed to disappear. All the expectations, the rules, the boundaries—none of it mattered in that moment. It was just the two of them, standing together in the quiet of the garden entrance, sharing something that felt both dangerous and undeniably real.

But the moment was fleeting. The sound of footsteps approaching broke the spell, and Eliza quickly pulled her hand back, stepping away from Thomas just as a group of guests wandered past. She straightened her gown, her heart still racing.

“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing at Thomas one last time before slipping back into the ballroom, her mind swirling with confusion, desire, and the growing realization that this was more than just a fleeting infatuation.

It was the beginning of something far more dangerous.