The day of the charity gala arrived, and the Delacroix estate was a spectacle of opulence and grandeur. The ballroom, illuminated by massive crystal chandeliers, gleamed with polished gold accents and marble floors. Servants moved with practiced precision, attending to the needs of arriving guests. Outside, carriages lined up as nobles, dressed in their finest attire, stepped into the grand estate.
Ethan adjusted the cuffs of his tailored black suit, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Everything about him radiated authority and confidence, but his focus wasn't on the guests or their murmured praises of the event. Instead, his gaze shifted toward the staircase, where Amara stood, her emerald gown shimmering in the soft light.
She descended gracefully, her every step commanding attention. The usual whispers and disdainful glances were replaced with stunned silence. Tonight, she was the picture of poise and elegance, a far cry from the reputation that had plagued her.
Ethan extended his hand as she reached the bottom step. "You look stunning," he said, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
Amara hesitated before placing her hand in his. "Let's get this over with," she replied, though there was a hint of nervousness in her tone.
He led her into the ballroom, where the hum of conversation resumed, albeit tinged with curiosity. As they moved through the crowd, Ethan greeted key nobles with practiced ease, ensuring that Amara was introduced to everyone of importance.
One noblewoman, known for her sharp tongue, stopped them. Her gaze lingered on Amara, her expression neutral but her tone skeptical. "Duchess Delacroix, it's been a while since we've seen you at such an event."
Amara met the woman's gaze without flinching. "Indeed. I've been focusing on causes close to my heart, particularly the orphanages in the southern regions. Tonight's gala is an opportunity to bring attention to their needs."
The noblewoman raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the response. Ethan seized the moment. "My wife has been tirelessly dedicated to these efforts. I'm fortunate to have her as my partner."
Amara glanced at him, her cheeks slightly flushed, but she said nothing. The noblewoman offered a curt nod before excusing herself, clearly rethinking her assumptions about the Duchess.
The evening progressed with similar encounters, and Ethan noticed Amara growing more confident with each one. However, a familiar figure soon entered the ballroom, drawing his attention.
Cecilia, dressed in an angelic white gown, entered on Adrian Lennox's arm. The crowd gravitated toward them, their presence magnetic. Ethan's jaw tightened as his eyes met Cecilia's. Her smile was as sweet and innocent as always, but he knew the truth behind her facade.
Amara tensed beside him, her gaze locking on Adrian. Her voice was calm, but Ethan could sense the undercurrent of tension. "So, the golden pair has arrived."
He placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. "Focus on yourself. Tonight is about you."
Amara hesitated, then nodded.
Cecilia approached with Adrian, her smile warm and calculated. "Duke Delacroix, Duchess," she greeted. "The gala is exquisite. You've truly outdone yourselves."
Amara's expression remained composed. "Thank you. It's important to ensure the orphanages receive the attention they deserve."
"Of course," Cecilia said, her tone dripping with false sincerity. "It's heartwarming to see you so passionate about philanthropy."
Ethan stepped in, his voice sharp but polite. "My wife has always been dedicated to meaningful causes. It's unfortunate that such efforts are often overlooked."
Adrian frowned slightly, sensing the tension. "It's good to see everyone working together for a common goal," he said diplomatically.
Ethan offered a faint smile. "Indeed. Collaboration is key, as long as it's built on honesty."
Cecilia's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. Amara remained silent, her eyes steady on Cecilia.
As the evening wore on, the orchestra began playing a waltz. Ethan turned to Amara, extending his hand. "Shall we?"
Amara hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with drawing more attention. "I'm not sure—"
"You'll do fine," he said gently. "Just follow my lead."
Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his, and they stepped onto the dance floor. The room seemed to hold its breath as the notorious Duke and Duchess began to waltz. Ethan guided her with practiced ease, his touch firm but reassuring.
"You're doing well," he murmured.
Amara met his gaze, a flicker of trust in her eyes. "I never thought I'd say this, but...thank you."
"For what?"
"For not letting me fall," she said softly, both in the dance and in the chaos of their lives.
The applause that followed their dance was genuine, a sign that the tide was beginning to turn. As they returned to the crowd, Ethan felt a rare sense of satisfaction.
By the end of the night, several nobles had expressed interest in supporting Amara's philanthropic efforts. The whispers of disdain had been replaced with cautious admiration.
When they returned to their private chambers, Amara let out a tired sigh but smiled faintly. "I didn't think it was possible, but tonight wasn't a disaster."
"It was more than that," Ethan said. "You were extraordinary."
Amara glanced at him, her smile softening. "Maybe you're not as unbearable as I thought."
Ethan chuckled. "High praise coming from you."
As she disappeared into her room, Ethan leaned against the doorframe, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Tonight was a victory, but he knew the battle was far from over. Cecilia and Adrian were still lurking, and their schemes were far from finished.
For now, though, he allowed himself a moment of peace. He had made progress with Amara, and that was enough.
End of Chapter 9