Lady Isabella Burton was, as fate would have it, born as Lady Isabella Locksworth. She was the Marquess of Canterbury's half-sibling and Lord Locksworth's full-sibling.
Maggie recovered from her cold just in time to attend the opulent ball in the Duke of Winchester's lavish dwelling on the outskirts of London, but she could barely contain the nervous anticipation bubbling in her heart.
Even from afar, the unmistakable silhouette of a Duke's residence pierced the twilight sky. A small castle, its crenellated towers raged high above the surrounding woods, their dark shapes softened by the warm glow of flickering torches positioned strategically in the arrow slits.
As she drew closer, the rhythmic crunch of carriage wheels on gravel announced the arrival of other guests.
Each magnificent carriage, emblazoned with a coat of arms, underlined the lineage and importance of its passengers.
Here, Dukes rubbed shoulders with Marquises, and Baronets with Viscounts -- a veritable tapestry of England's elite.
In comparison, Maggie's carriage, a hired one devoid of any heraldic symbol, seemed to shrink under the weight of their grandeur.
Maggie inhaled and exhaled several times inside the carriage, trying hard to pacify her agitated nerves before she had to face a castle full of prominent figures.
The carriage door opened, and a footman stood ready to help Maggie climb down from the carriage.
When she straightened her back afterward, though, someone already awaited her arrival.
It was Lord Locksworth, who sported a roguish grin across his handsome, youthful face.
"My Lady," he took Maggie's gloved hand and pressed a light kiss on top of it. "It is very nice to see you again."
"Lord Locksworth," Maggie had an inexplicable urge to scratch at her throat, but she resisted it. "It has been a while since our last meeting."
"Indeed, indeed," the gentleman said in a jovial manner. "So I heard that you saved my nephew's life. Our family owes you a great deal."
"Oh, it was... My pleasure," Maggie said with a bright smile.
She would have helped anyone, be it a Duke's grandson or a maid's son, but God was merciful enough to give her this opportunity to get closer to the Locksworth family.
She would not waste it.
Together, they entered the Winchester Castle. While the exterior was impressive, the interior unfolded like a luxurious jewel box. High ceilings, adorned with intricate plasterwork and sparkling with the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, stretched above them. Polished oak floors gleamed beneath a rich runner that snaked its way through the vast entrance hall. Despite the castle's imposing size, the space felt surprisingly warm and inviting.
Large fireplaces crackled merrily on either side of the entrance, their flames casting a flickering dance of light on the ornately framed portraits of past Dukes of Winchester lining the walls.
The air hummed with a gentle buzz of conversation and the rustle of rich silks as other guests made their way towards the grand ballroom, their laughter echoing off the high walls.
Lord Locksworth steered Maggie towards the heart of the festivities. The Duke of Winchester, a pillar of regality, stood at the foot of the grand staircase that ascended to the second floor. Beside him, his eldest son, the Marquess of Canterbury, completed the imposing tableau. As Maggie approached, she was struck by the undeniable resemblance.
The Marquess was literally a younger reflection of his father, their features cast from the same mold. Even their postures mirrored each other, an air of cool assessment radiating from both.
"Father, Brother, I bring you Lady Blanchard."
With a graceful curtsy, Maggie dipped into a low bow before the Duke and his son. "Your Graces," she said, her voice clear and polite, "thank you very much for inviting me to this magnificent ball."
The Duke shot her an amused look.
"After what you have done to save little William, Lady Blanchard, this is unfortunately the least I can do."
Maggie met the Duke's gaze, her throat tightening. The man currently held the prestigious position of Lord Chancellor, the highest authority in the Crown Office.
A knot of nerves twisted in her stomach. Etiquette dictated silence on official matters during social gatherings – a rule Maggie understood all too well.
But this might be her only chance to speak with the Duke directly.
Maggie opened her mouth to speak up, but the Duke cut her off before she even uttered her first word.
"Well then, I shall grab myself a drink before the next round of guests come to greet me. Please enjoy yourself, Lady Blanchard."
With a final nod, he excused himself and drifted into the throng.
Maggie watched her chance disperse into the air with disbelief. The flame of hope that had flickered so brightly within her just moments ago seemed to extinguish entirely, leaving behind only a cold, chilling despair.
"I also have to go and mingle with the ladies," Lord Locksworth remarked with a roguish wink. He quickly left before his elder brother made any unfavorable comment in response.
Maggie was left behind with the Marquess as her company.
"Let's dance to one song," the gentleman suddenly proclaimed.
Maggie's mouth dropped open in astonishment.
"We will?"
"We shall," the Marquess decided. "Show me your dance card."
While the Marquess scrutinized the dance card and selected a piece to dance to, something bumped against Maggie's calf from behind.
"Ahh...!" Maggie gasped in surprise.
"Lady Blanchard," a little boy's voice was heard coming from the soft lump at her leg.
"William...!!!" A woman's voice was heard before she quickly came over to peel her son off Maggie's leg.
It was indeed one of the ladies she saw at the riverbanks back then.
"Lady Blanchard!" She exclaimed. "I am so happy that you make it to the ball. I am Isabella Burton, it is very nice to make your acquaintance at last!"
The Marquess finished filling his name into Maggie's dance card.
"Isabella."
With a brief nod toward his half-sister, he took his leave.