As Victoria stepped into the grand ballroom, the air hummed with excitement and the soft murmur of conversation. The space was a tapestry of elegance—gilded walls adorned with portraits of ancestors, crystal chandeliers casting sparkling light across the polished floors, and clusters of guests in their finest attire mingling amidst floral arrangements that filled the room with their sweet fragrance.
Her eyes sought out her parents, Lady Elvira and Marquis Paul, who were engaged in conversation with the Duke of Wiltshire and his son, Edward. With a determined stride, Victoria made her way through the gathering, offering polite greetings to acquaintances and friends she crossed paths with along the way. Each smile and nod was executed with practiced grace, though her thoughts were focused on the impending conversation she needed to have with Emma.
Finally reaching her parents' side, Victoria waited patiently for a lull in their conversation before discreetly interjecting. "Mother, Father," she greeted with a respectful nod, her tone calm despite the turmoil within. Lady Elvira turned towards her daughter, her expression brightening with maternal affection.
"Victoria, dear," Lady Elvira acknowledged warmly, her gaze assessing Victoria's composed demeanor. Marquis Paul nodded in silent acknowledgment, his attention briefly shifting from their guests to his oldest daughter.
"I trust preparations have gone smoothly for you," Lord Ashcroft remarked, his voice carrying the weight of familial pride.
Victoria nodded in affirmation, though her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Emma and the unspoken revelations that had cast a shadow over their relationship. "Yes, Father. Everything is as expected," she replied diplomatically, her gaze flickering briefly towards Emma, who was engaged in conversation across the room.
Lady Elvira noticed the subtle exchange between her daughters and arched a questioning brow, concern etching her features. "Is everything alright, Victoria and why is Emma not here?" she inquired softly, her maternal instinct sensing the underlying tension.
Victoria hesitated momentarily, weighing her words carefully. "She'll join us shortly and there are matters I wish to discuss with Emma," she admitted quietly, her gaze steady as she met her mother's concerned eyes.
Understanding dawned in Lady Elvira's expression as she exchanged a knowing glance with her husband. "Of course, dear," she replied gently and turned her attention back to the discussing she was having.
Victoria stood beside her parents, the Duke of Wiltshire and his son Edward, feeling the weight of their conversation settle heavily upon her shoulders. The Duke chuckled warmly, his jovial demeanor contrasting sharply with Victoria's growing unease.
"We were just discussing about your 17th birthday party, Victoria," the Duke began with a twinkle in his eye. "And discussing the possibility of your engagement to my son Edward there."
Victoria's eyes widened in a moment of horror, a surge of disbelief and indignation washing over her. Engaged to Edward? The idea was preposterous to her, and she struggled to maintain her composure. With a swift effort, she schooled her features into a mask of polite neutrality before turning to her parents with thinly veiled anger.
Lady Elvira, ever perceptive, sensed her daughter's discomfort and gently squeezed her hand in silent reassurance. She addressed the Duke with a serene smile, her voice calm yet firm. "It isn't official yet, Duke. Victoria will decide for herself when the time comes."
The Duke's expression clouded momentarily with disapproval as he turned to Marquis paul, his tone laced with mild reproach. "You give the women in your family too much freedom, Ashcroft."
Victoria fought to suppress a surge of defiance at the Duke's words, her gaze flickering briefly towards Edward, who stood beside his father with an expectant look in his eyes. She couldn't fathom being bound to someone like Edward—vain, shallow, and entirely lacking in the qualities she admired. The very thought of becoming a trophy wife revolted her.
She wondered what her brilliant and beautiful sister saw in him to make her like him as all she saw were flaws, a total weakling who can't even approach a woman without the help of his father.
As the Duke continued to extol Edward's virtues, Victoria's stomach churned with distaste. She forced herself to maintain a composed facade, masking her inner turmoil behind a charming smile as she turned her attention towards Edward. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Edward," she greeted with practiced civility, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of disdain.
Edward, oblivious to Victoria's true feelings, returned her smile with eager enthusiasm. "Likewise, Victoria," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration.
Victoria inwardly cringed at his response but maintained her gracious demeanor. With a subtle nod, she excused herself politely, citing a desire to mingle with other guests. As she walked away, she couldn't shake the unsettling realization that her future had suddenly been thrust into the hands of others. Determined not to succumb to their plans, Victoria vowed silently to assert her own choices, even if it meant challenging the expectations of her family and society itself.