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... t. It was a small, bubbling sound, like champagne fizzing over the rim of a glass. She quickly pressed her lips together, trying to muffle the noise, trying to return to the serious, elegant mask of a lady waltzing with a Duke.

But her eyes gave her away. They were dancing with a light that matched the chandeliers above.

Carcel looked down at her. His hand was warm and firm on her waist, guiding her effortlessly through the sea of swirling skirts and black coats. He raised one da ...

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“……”

“You hate me so much? You prefer to die instead of spending the wedding night with me?

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