The carriage came to a slow stop in front of Harcourt Manor. The large golden doors swung open, casting a soft glow of candlelight onto the gravel path. Inside, gentle music floated through the air—refined and graceful, the kind that made everything feel a little too perfect to be real.
Isabella adjusted her gloves and stole a quick glance at her reflection in the window. Her dark hair was pinned up neatly with tiny pearl clips, and her emerald green dress hugged her in all the right places. The neckline dipped just low enough to turn heads, but not enough to cause gossip. Modest on the surface, just bold enough to leave Leofric completely distracted—Ella's words, not hers.
Leofric stepped out first and turned to offer his hand, eyes scanning her from head to toe. "You look edible," he muttered under his breath.
She arched an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. "And you look positively bored already."
"That's because I am," he said without shame, though a slow grin made its way across his lips as he tugged her body gently to his. "We could always turn the carriage around."
She laughed and gave him a playful smack on the chest. "Rid yourself of that idea at once. We're already here, and there's no retreat. The only choice is to suffer through it with charm and grace."
"I don't think I possess either at the moment, my lady," he murmured, but smiled all the same.
With a fond roll of her eyes, she rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek—but Leofric had other plans. He turned his head swiftly and captured her lips in a proper kiss that turned Isabella into a stuttering mess with flushed cheeks. "People are watching,"
"Ah, now I feel charged for the night. Shall we?" He offered his arm, He offered his arm like the very model of a gentleman—if you ignored the roguish grin that hadn't left his face.
Inside, the ballroom was already alive with movement and sound. Gowns swished, laughter fluttered, and champagne sparkled in crystal flutes.
They had barely stepped into the room before Lady Harcourt descended upon them like a hawk spotting its prey. "Lord Leofric," she purred, dragging out his name like it was dipped in honey and expensive wine. Her smile was too wide, too rehearsed. "You look absolutely dashing tonight. But then, you always do."
"I have my wife to thank." Leofric didn't miss a beat. "She has exquisite taste." He lifted Isabella's hand and kissed it softly.
Lady Harcourt's smile twitched, ever so slightly, before she turned her focus to Isabella. "Lady Isabella. I'm so glad you could join us tonight. I've been positively dying to meet you."
"Have you?" Isabella replied sweetly, her smile innocent
Lady Harcourt gave a graceful nod. "Oh, yes. I've heard so many… curious things about you."
Isabella's laughter rang out like bells. "I don't know what you heard, but they are all true, I'm sure, Lady Harcourt."
Lady Harcourt's eyes gleamed. "I heard you gave a public speech recently about how utterly magnificent your husband is. Quite the passionate declaration, I must say." Lady Harcourt asked, eyes dartinig between the husband and wife.
Isabella's smile only faltered for a second, her eyes flickering towards Leofric. A ghost smile was playing on his lips as he waited for her to answer. "Why yes, I did. Isn't my husband magnificent? Don't you think so too, Lady Harcourt?"
Lady Harcourt's expression soured, just a little. "I thought it was a rumour."
"It wasn't," Isabella said cheerfully. "I was merely stating the obvious. I like to give credit where credit is due." She leaned ever so slightly closer to Leofric, their eyes locking as if they were the only two people in the room.
Lady Harcourt's smile strained. "Quite amusing, considering the scene you made when he proposed."
"Ah, yes. But that was before I realised what a great man he is. Time changes everything, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, indeed," Lady Harcourt said, her voice cool. "Time has worked wonders for you both."
"You can say that again," Leofric added, his grin wicked.
Before Lady Harcourt could snap back, Isabella tilted her head and asked sweetly, "I don't see Lord Harcourt. Will he be joining us tonight?"
Lady Harcourt blinked, caught off guard. "He's… not feeling well. Quite under the weather, I'm afraid."
"What a shame," Isabella replied. "Do give him our regards."
Lady Harcourt nodded stiffly, "Well, do enjoy the ball."
"We intend to," Isabella replied sweetly as Lady Harcourt stalked off, spine ramrod straight. Isabella leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't like her."
"Neither do I. I would wager you've just earned the number one spot on her list of enemies." They both chuckled until Leofric's grin turned sly.
"Wipe that grin off your face this instant!" She whisper-yelled.
"I am yet to thank you for defending me. I didn't know you had it in you. I thought Robert was just messing with me when he told me about it—"
"Oh, I will so take his head," Her eyes narrowed into slits.
"Not that I mind, but even without Robert telling me, I would have heard about it. The servants and villagers were talking about it. I wanted to talk to you about it, but Robert stopped me. He said you didn't want me to know."
"Well, now you know." She briefly looked away from him. "I am your wife. It is my duty to defend you when you are not there—and probably when you are there too, but let's not forget those folks were being ungrateful."
"Thank you." He gently squeezed her hand before his sly smile returned. "So… you think I am a great man?"
"What? Are you my husband?" Isabella asked, feigning confusion. He nodded solemnly. "Then of course, you're a great man."
"Is that all I am getting? A great man?" He asked, brows drawing together in a fake frown.
"Don't push it." She arched a brow. "But if you must know, you're not just a great man. You're also quite decent to look at, occasionally charming, annoyingly kind, absurdly affectionate, a bit too clingy, emotionally unstable sometimes, and undeniably maddening. A good husband too—sometimes."
"I'll take that as high praise," He said, chuckling.
"You should," Isabella replied, eyes glued to his face.
Just as they began to melt into their own world again, a woman in her late fifties approached. "Good evening, Lord Leofric. Lady Isabella."
"Good evening, Lady…" Leofric paused, mind scrambling. He knew he had met her before. Twice? Maybe three times? Blast it—what was her name?
The woman pursed her lips. "How very disrespectful. This is the third time we've met. I even introduced my daughter to you a few months ago."
A very helpful information, Leofric thought to himself as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Ah," Leofric said weakly. "You're that lady."
Isabella bit down on her fan, laughter threatening to erupt. Leofric looked like a trapped mouse under the older lady's gaze.
As the dutiful wife she was, Isabella stepped in. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure, my lady. Am I as terrible as my husband when it comes to remembering names?"
The woman's face brightened. "Oh, no. We've not met, but I've heard quite a bit about you."
"Let me guess—my infamous declaration of how magnificent my husband is?" Isabella smiled. "News really do fly."
The woman laughed. "Indeed. Lady Sharon. Marquess of Dotland."
"Delighted to meet you, Lady Sharon." Isabella curtsied gracefully. "Don't worry, I shall personally ensure my husband doesn't forget your name again. I'll have it embroidered into his cravat if I must."
"Please do," Lady Sharon said with a wink. Then she turned conspiratorially to Isabella. "You must be positively exhausted by his company. Come, we are having quite the entertaining conversation by the fireplace."
Isabella gave Leofric a mischievous smile. "Oh, absolutely exhausted."
With that, she took Lady Sharon's arm and allowed herself to be swept away, tossing one last playful glance over her shoulder.