Emma stood at the edge of the ballroom, her back against a pillar, observing the scene before her with a mix of resentment and despair. Madeline stood beside her, voicing opinions that mirrored Emma's own frustrations.
"Look over there, Emma," Madeline whispered, her voice edged with bitterness. "Look how they chat away, so blissfully unaware. No one has even noticed your absence."
Emma's gaze flickered towards her parents and sisters conversing animatedly with the Duke and his son, Edward. Victoria, her older sister, stood beside Edward, extending a hand in a gesture of congeniality, her smile radiant and practiced. Emma's heart twisted with a toxic blend of envy, hatred, and unspoken longing.
Madeline's tone dripped with disdain. "I'm sure Victoria is delighted with all this attention," she added, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
Emma's fists clenched at her sides as she watched Victoria's charming display. She knew that the only reason why the duke would attend the ball was for the hope of a possible engagement between his son and Victoria. She also know Victoria wouldn't truly want this engagement, but the thought of her sister willingly engaging with Edward stoked the flames of Emma's resentment even higher. She imagined running over and tearing Victoria away from Edward, shattering the illusion of happiness that masked the underlying turmoil within their family.
A bitter laugh escaped Emma's lips, filled with bitterness and self-loathing. "Delighted, indeed," she muttered sarcastically, her voice barely audible above the music and laughter that filled the ballroom.
Madeline glanced at Emma, fake concern flickering in her eyes. "Emma, are you alright?" she asked softly, placing a comforting hand on Emma's arm.
Emma turned towards Madeline, her eyes blazing with unshed tears and pent-up frustration. "I hate all of this," she confessed bitterly. "I hate him, I hate them," she gestured towards her family, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "And most of all, I hate that how I have to pretend that everything is fine."
Madeline nodded sympathetically, her expression understanding. "You don't have to pretend with me, Emma," she reassured gently. "I'm here for you."
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Emma nodded gratefully at Madeline. Madeline pulled her in for a hug and whispered into her ears.
Victoria turned just in time to see Emma and Madeline walking out of the ballroom and her attention torn between her conversation with her friends and the curiosity of knowing why Emma and Madeline slipping out unnoticed. Frowning with concern, she tried to focus on her conversation but an uneasy feeling gnawed at her. The merriment around her seemed hollow as she wrestled with the urge to check on her sister.
After a few minutes of internal struggle, Victoria excused herself gracefully, citing a need for fresh air, and made her way towards the ballroom's grand entrance. Stepping outside, she was greeted by a sharp gust of cold wind that cut through her evening gown. She cursed silently, regretting not bringing a coat, but her worry for Emma propelled her forward.
Victoria hurried across the moonlit grounds of Delacroix Manor, her steps quickening as she followed the path towards the garden , the only place she knew they would be. Her mind raced with thoughts of Emma and Madeline—what could they be doing out here, alone and without proper attire? Anxiety twisted in her gut, mingling with the anger she felt towards Madeline for dragging Emma away without proper protection against the elements.
Lady Elvira's gaze followed her daughters as they exited the ballroom, one after the other, her brow furrowing in discontent. Victoria and Emma were slipping away at a crucial moment, and though Elvira understood that Victoria had pressing matters to discuss with her sister, the timing couldn't have been worse. The ball was in full swing, and Victoria was expected to dance with her father—a highlight of the evening and a key part of their social duties.
Tugging gently at her husband's sleeve, Elvira leaned in and whispered with frustration, "The girls are absent."
Marquis Paul, ever the calming presence, looked at his wife with a warm smile. His fingers lightly caressed her cheek, a gesture of reassurance. "Let the girls be for just tonight," he said softly, his tone soothing.
Elvira's frown deepened. "What will the guests say? I've heard enough of your sister's badmouthing; I can't bear the entire town's whispers."
Paul sighed, his eyes showing a hint of weariness. "If anyone says anything unpleasant to your hearing, let me know. I'll handle it."
Elvira's expression softened, and a grateful smile touched her lips. She nodded, reassured by her husband's promise. "Thank you, Paul. I just want this evening to go smoothly."
Marquis Paul held her hand softly "It will my dear, you just need to calm down,okay?."
With that, Elvira took a steadying breath and turned her attention back to the ballroom.
The Duke and his son exchanged glances as they observed the quiet conversation between Marquis Paul and Lady Elvira. The Duke, feeling a pang of envy, noted the tenderness and understanding that marked their interaction. He had always admired the bond between them, a contrast to the more formal relationship he shared with his own wife.
With a mischievous grin, the Duke chuckled and remarked, "I guess the Marquis and his wife are in need of some privacy." His comment elicited a laugh from Lady Elvira and her husband, lightening the mood and easing the tension.
Marquis Paul raised his glass, his eyes twinkling with good humor. "To a successful ball," he declared, his voice ringing with warmth.
The guests, buoyed by the spirited toast, lifted their own glasses and joined in the cheer. "To a successful ball!" they echoed, their voices blending harmoniously with the music that filled the grand hall.
The evening continued with elegant dances and lively conversations. The orchestra played a series of enchanting melodies, and the guests mingled, their laughter and chatter creating a vibrant atmosphere.