The Marquess (English Version)

1. The Ball

Under the delicate twilight, London unfolds as a scene of charm and elegance during the season. The distant clatter of carriages on worn cobblestones echoes through the city as lanterns cast a golden glow over the cobbled streets, creating a shimmering veil over the silhouettes of ladies and gentlemen.

In the trembling light of streetlamps, the parks transform into enchanted gardens. Majestic trees bend gracefully, offering their shadows as discreet witnesses to furtive encounters and whispered confessions. In the squares, street vendors display their wares, and the subtle scent of fresh flowers dances in the air.

It is in this glittering London, where every unspoken word is laden with meaning and a single exchanged glance could alter the fate of a young woman of marriageable age, that Lady Elizabeth Wentworth finds herself confined.

Elizabeth is a beautiful woman, with emerald eyes and fiery red hair. At twenty-two, her personality has aged her beyond other young women, making this the seventh season in which her family has persistently tried to secure her a marriage.

"Elizabeth dear, please, let us be amiable with the lords tonight, yes?" Lady Emmeline Wentworth nearly pleaded with her daughter.

"Why be amiable? You are amiable enough for both of us, Mama, which spares me such a banal obligation." Elizabeth's teasing made her mother squirm in the carriage, drawing out her laughter.

All Lady Emmeline wished was to see her daughter married, though she had presented countless suitors and tried various strategies. Elizabeth always managed to frighten and drive away the gentlemen who courted her. But, as with every season, the beginning of the new one brought renewed hope for Mrs. Wentworth, who, since her husband's death two years prior, had made the marriages of her children, Elizabeth and Arthur, her personal mission.

"Ma'am, we have arrived."

The coachman halted the carriage before the luxurious house of the Duke of Ellingham, for the most anticipated season-opening ball in London. The facade boasted refined architectural details, with majestic columns and tall windows that allowed a glimpse of the resplendent chandeliers inside. The meticulously tended garden displayed a burst of colorful blooms in harmony. Upon entering the residence's halls, ladies in sumptuous gowns and gentlemen in impeccable attire gathered beneath the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Persian rugs adorned the polished wood floors, while portraits of ancestors watched silently from silk-lined walls.

By candlelight, the ballroom came alive. Ladies swirled gracefully in gowns capturing the essence of seasonal flowers, while gentlemen guided the dance with the elegance of true masters. Music flowed, an enveloping melody that permeated the ambiance and guided each step. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a soft glow over the crowd as whispered conversations and discreet laughter drifted through the rooms.

In a strategic corner, a table adorned with a cascade of flowers served as a display for culinary delicacies, offering a feast for the senses.

The Ellinghams were famed for always opening the season, the Duchess known as a matchmaker, bringing together ladies and gentlemen in matrimony, devising romantic schemes alongside the mothers of high society. Her reputation among families was one of never failing to arrange a marriage—except when it came to her son, the future Duke Edward, and her nephew, the Marquess Phillip Beaumont.

That night, Lady Elizabeth Wentworth stood in the shadows of the grand ballroom, her emerald eyes observing the movement attentively. Her sky-blue gown stood out among the darker hues of the crowd, while she remained cloaked in an aura of mystery and elegance.

Beside her, Lady Emmeline Wentworth smiled with a mixture of hope and anxiety. The Duchess of Ellingham approached, a woman of imposing presence, with keen eyes that seemed to see through social masks.