He braced himself as he watched her walk towards his direction.

Was she coming towards him or she was going into the manor?

His question remained unanswered as Garelle and her mother flanked him on each side, each confessing a grief they all knew burned only on the surface.

Once every few minutes, Lady Plumette would dab at her eyes to keep up the appearance. Each woman linked her arm in his and pulled him towards the house.

"I know this is hardly the right place... or time, but since it is very hard to speak with you, I wanted to bring up the topic of your engagement with my daughter." Lady Plumette began.

He felt Garelle, who clung to his left arm, stiffen.

"Mother!" She chided.

"What?" Lady Plumette leaned over him to glare at her daughter as they entered the house.

He hated to be in the middle of their argument, but he couldn’t just pull his arms out of their grasps and bid them a good night, could he?

Falstaff who was standing by a corner with his wife, ambled to where he stood with the bickering women and greeted him.

He was tempted to be petty and pretend not it have heard the man’s greeting, but thought better of it and nodded.

A lot of people were surprised that he was in attendance. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

And he in turn was surprised that so many people had honoured the invitation. He even spotted a baron from the south seated among a few debutantes of the peerage.

Did the Malricks have enough room to house all the people that had travelled here for the night.

He led the women to a seat and was hoping to escape them until Lady Plumette started her request again.

"Since the scandal was contained, you could still marry and procure an heir through her, Your Grace. My daughter is very fertile in that respect."

The comment earned a look from Yeren. Garelle’s face looked like that of a ripe cherry.

He felt bad for her but remained silent.

"She is the perfect wife for you." The woman continued.

Just as she spoke, Claire stopped at the doorway of the receiving room.

He liked to fancy that Lady Plumette was talking about Claire when she said ’perfect wife’ rather than Garelle.

And as if she sensed him as well, her eyes met his.

But she looked away very quickly.

He felt... dismissed.

How right had he been... she was avoiding him as if he had the plague.

Then as if the slight wasn’t enough, Lord Bronan came up beside her.

He snapped his attention back to Garelle and pretended to listen to what she was saying about her displeasure with her mother while her mother was busy greeting some other acquaintance of hers.

"She loathes me..." She was saying.

Then he noticed that Lord Bronan was bringing Claire inside.

Every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation the moment he realized their designation.

They were coming towards him.

She looked as if she dreaded meeting him as much as he dreaded meeting her.

Maybe he had been imagining it earlier when he thought she was coming to speak to him.

Because at the moment, she looked like she would bolt from the room if Aldrich let go of her hand for the briefest of seconds.

The thought brought a smile to his lips.

Then she was finally before him.

The light of the chandelier caught on her hair and she looked more dazzling than he had thought.

The twilight hadn’t done justice to her looks.

"Lady Stenly."

"Your Grace." She said automatically, meeting his eyes very briefly.

Her face was flushed from her encounter with the lecher of the season.

He had overhead their entire conversation, even though he hadn’t meant to listen.

The man’s carriage might just crash on his way back home, who knew?

Her right fist was still clenched from what he could see, but she hid it behind the fold of her skirt.

"Lady Plumette had fallen silent such that he had to glance at her.

If looks could kill...

He expected a similar reaction from Garelle, but instead, she rose from her seat and went to embrace Claire.

Claire stood there like a pole, neither smiling or embracing her back.

But the moment Garelle stepped away, the light caught on something glittering on her neck.

Your Grace." Bronan said and sketched a small bow.

Yeren nodded at him.

But his mind was somewhere else entirely.

So she wore the necklace. Why?

Why did she wear it?

The image of her without any garment but the necklace flashed before his eyes.

He had told her to wear it anytime he wanted to make love to her...

"We’ve greeted him, so shall we?"

Such a hurry?

He reached out and touched the necklace before she could escape his grasp. He couldn’t suppress the urge no matter how hard he tried.

And he was certain she knew perfectly what he was thinking because her eyes darkened as well. People were staring at them but the room seemed to fade into her eyes.

Slowly, his hand fell away from the necklace.

Her mouth parted as if to say something, but no words came forth.

Then Aldrich pulled her away and they left the receiving room.

"Excuse me." He said to the women and left the room as well.

He was glad to have finally summoned the courage to rid himself of their bothersome company.

He headed for the drawing room to pour himself a goblet of wine. After doing so, he went out to the balcony and leaned over.

As he took each sip, he closed his eyes tight, hoping to vanquish the image of pressing her against a wall and ripping her pretty dress off until the only thing she would be wearing would be that necklace.

His necklace.

So what was stopping him? A wicked voice asked.

Lord Bronan?

He finished the rest of his wine and turned to get another one.

But as he spun around, there she was, standing at the doorway looking lost.