The Red Cross Charity Dinner, a lavish affair befitting the stature of the Sinclair family, unfolds in an elegant ballroom, transforming into a refinement tableau. Cascading floral arrangements of lilacs, lilies, and lavender trim every surface, and flickering candlelight casts a warm, alluring glow.
In her shimmering satin and lace emerald jade gown, Sadie moves through the crowd with the grace and poise expected of a young heiress. Her chestnut curls fall in soft waves around her shoulders, framing an innocent face adorned with a delicate spray of pearls—another heirloom from her late mother, whose memory looms large over the evening's festivities.
As Sadie navigates the sea of guests, her eyes dart nervously around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Elsie moving through the rooms. Instead, her gaze lands on Charles Harrington, impeccably attired in a tailored suit that oozes refinement. His dark, smoldering gray eyes flicker with a hint of mischief beneath the glow of the chandeliers. He radiates an aura of charm and calculated allure.
With a graceful turn, Charles begins to approach Sadie. His movements are smooth and deliberate as he weaves through the crowd. A small, self-assured smile plays upon his lips.
"Miss Sinclair," Charles says, his voice carrying across the room like velvet. "A pleasure, as always, to see you."
Sadie forces a polite smile, though her stomach churns with unease at the prospect of spending the evening in Charles's company. She offers a delicate nod in response, her gaze flickering momentarily towards the door in search of an escape route.
"I trust you are enjoying the festivities." Charles continues, his voice echoing with practiced charm. "Though I must say, they pale in comparison to the radiance you bring to this room."
Sadie fights the urge to roll her eyes at his nauseating flattery, forcing herself to maintain a polite interest. "Thank you, Mr. Harrington," she replies. "The evening has certainly been... eventful."
"Oh, has it?" Charles inquires, his voice smooth as silk as he closes the distance between them. His footsteps echo softly against the polished marble floors. "But the night has just begun. How can it be eventful yet?" A sly smile plays at the corners of his lips as he leans closer to Sadie, his warm breath ghosting over her ear. The scent of sandalwood cologne cocoons her senses, threatening to suffocate her in its heady embrace.
Sadie's pulse quickens at his proximity as she fights to maintain her composure. She offers a strained smile, her fingers curling nervously around the delicate stem of her champagne flute. "I suppose there's still time for surprises," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart hammering in her chest.
Before Charles can respond, the sound of her father's voice cuts through the air, throwing her a much-needed lifeline, "Ah, Edward," she breathes a silent sigh of relief as her father nears.
"Good evening, Charles," Edward greets him with a gracious smile, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between his daughter and her unwelcome suitor. "I trust you're enjoying the party?"
Charles offers a polite nod in response, though the gleam in his eyes betrays his true intentions.
"Indeed, Mr. Sinclair," he replies smoothly, his stare lingering on Sadie's curves for a moment longer than necessary. "It's always a pleasure to be in your esteemed company."
Edward's attention shifts to the assembled guests, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room as he announces, "Shall we adjourn to the garden for dinner? I believe Chef has prepared a magnificent feast that simply cannot be missed."
As dusk descends upon the garden, a tranquil stillness settles over the oasis, casting everything in a soft, ethereal glow. Lanterns suspended from wrought iron trellises twinkle like stars, their warm, golden light illuminating pathways lined with intricately manicured hedges and vibrant bursts of colorful blooms of magnolias and roses. Decorations adorn every corner, from the elaborate marble fountains to delicate lace tablecloths draped over tables. Overhead, a canopy of ivy-clad arbors creates a canopy of lush foliage, casting dappled shadows across the scene below. "It's straight out of a fairy tale," Sadie gasps as her father escorts her through the terrace doors.
As the party begins to make their way to their seat, Sadie finds herself seated beside Charles again, her stomach swirling with apprehension.
She settles into her chair and exchanges a knowing look with her father. Sadie understands that her father wants her to find an attraction with Charles, and of course, he rearranged the seating after she finished it so that she could sit next to Charles.
As Charles launches into a carefully rehearsed monologue about the virtues of the charitable cause being celebrated at the table, Sadie grows increasingly restless. Her eyes continue to search for more of Elise's elusive figure amidst the glittering crowd. Sadie can still feel Elise's delicate fingertips dancing across her chest. Each cold finger lit a flame deep inside of her.
Forced to spend the evening by Charles's side, Sadie quickly tires of polite conversation and forced smiles, her discomfort palpable beneath the surface of social grace. Ever the consummate suitor, Charles peppers her with compliments and empty flattery, his words dripping with honeyed sweetness and veiled insincerity.
As the evening wears on, Sadie finds herself trapped in Charles's relentless charm offensive. Despite her best efforts to maintain an air of polite civility, her distress simmers just beneath the surface, evident in the strained curve of her smile.
Charles, either oblivious to Sadie's unease or uncaring, softly brushes his hand over her gloved hand.
"I must say, Sadie, you are positively radiant this evening," Charles purrs. "A vision of beauty amidst a sea of mediocrity."
Sadie forces a tight-lipped smile, her eyes flickering as she pulls her hand away from his,
"Thank you, Charles," she replies through gritted teeth, her voice strained with forced politeness. "Your words are too kind."
Unperturbed by her lack of willingness, Charles presses on, "In fact, I must declare there is unquestionably something different about you tonight. It is, dare I say," Charles tilts very close to Sadie and whispers, "something forbidden." As he leans away his eye's meet Sadie's. He raises an eyebrow and resumes his conversation with the woman across from him.
Sadie has known Charles Harrington for several years now, ever since his family arrived in New York during the summer of 1882. The Harringtons, newcomers to the city, brought with them the air of newfound wealth, their fortunes made through a brilliant company buyout that catapulted them into the realm of the elite. In stark contrast, Sadie's family, led by her father, Edward Sinclair, embodied old wealth, their lineage steeped in tradition and prestige.
Edward Jameson Sinclair, a titan of industry, was one of the first to invest in steel factories and railroads, reaping both financial and social dividends. His unwavering status and impeccable reputation cast a long shadow over New York's upper echelons, solidifying the Sinclair family's place among the city's elite.
Despite the stark disparity in their backgrounds, Sadie's parents welcomed the Harringtons into their inner circle with open arms, extending a hand of friendship that shocked many traditional families of old money. However, Sadie never gave much thought to the notions of divisions between old and new money, but anytime she was around any Harrington, her skin would crawl, especially when she was near Charles.
Returning her attention to the conversation, Sadie begs for forgiveness so she can check on something in the kitchen. As she stands, Charles stands as well. "Please let me escort you," he says. "The night is simply beautiful, and I can stand for a stretch."
Reluctantly Sadie accepts Charles's request and clutches his arm.
As the two near the terrace, Sadie declares, "This will be fine, Charles. I think I can make it to the kitchen from here."
Instead of freeing her arm, Charles continues to escort Sadie to a gazebo near the side of the garden. It is secluded, nearly hidden by a profusion of blooming lilac flowers.
"Please, just one minute," Charles says as the two sit on the wood ledge.
"One minute," Sadie echoes firmly.
Without hesitation, Charles begins, his voice rough and stern, "Your father has approached me."
Sadie's brows furrow in confusion as she processes his words. "Approached you for what?" she asks.
"He proposed the idea of us marrying," Charles explains.
Sadie's heart skips a beat as the gravity of his words sinks in. She turns to face Charles, her expression a mix of disbelief and anger. "My father approached you about marrying me?" she repeats, her voice trembling with disbelief.
Charles nods, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity she has never seen him have. "Yes, and I must admit, I find myself considering the possibility," he reveals, his hand reaching out to firmly grasp hers.
Sadie's mind races as anger and betrayal erupt inside her. How could her father make such a decision without even consulting her? The realization leaves her speechless, her thoughts swirling in a tumultuous whirlwind of emotion.
Charles' grip tightens on her hand while his fingers free, tracing a delicate line along Sadie's jaw, sending an electric charge down her spine. His touch lingers just a moment too long, his eyes trailing a path of heat as they roam from her face down her neck and across the curves of her body.
Meeting his gaze, Sadie feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, her breath catching in her throat at the intensity of his stare. His words hang in the air, heavy with implication, as he leans in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to hers.
"I think you and I would be very good together, don't you agree?" Charles murmurs, his voice low and seductive.
Feeling a surge of clashing emotions, Sadie shifts away from Charles, her heart pounding as she struggles to find her voice. "I... I do not know what to think, Mr. Harrington," she replies, her words faltering as she meets his eager gaze.
A hunting gleam flickers in Charles' eyes as he leans in, his lips brushing against Sadie's in a daring gesture. Instinctively, Sadie pushes him away, her pulse racing as she jumps to her feet, her chest heaving with emotion.
Charles rises slowly, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips as he straightens his coat.
"You can play coy now, Ms. Sinclair," he says, his voice dripping with confidence. "But it is only a matter of time."
With a mocking bow and a tip of his hat, he disappears into the crowd, leaving Sadie to wrestle with the turmoil of her own emotions in his wake.