Keeping her composure, Wilhelmina did not let her guard down. The Duchess Priestley was an angel in her gentleness and warmth, but she was also the most meticulous person in the family.

Walking arm in arm with a sister-in-law who was not easy to fool, Wilhelmina thought… perhaps this dear Angeline already knew everything about Wilhelmina’s secret late-night outing and was simply choosing to look the other way.

“What a crowd.”

Fortunately, Benjamin let out a sigh at just the right moment.

“Well, a ball was held.”

Seizing the opportunity, Wilhelmina quickly chimed in.

“With such a grand affair underway, who could possibly refuse such an enticing invitation?”

Every noble in Brighton knew it well: a ballroom was not simply a place to dance and enjoy oneself.

Strong spirits and waltzes, with the calculations of backroom politics seeping quietly through the music between. This place was less a venue for socializing than a crossroads where enormous interests changed hands.

“I guarantee there is no one in all of Winstor principled enough to tolerate being the only one absent from a place like this.”

“And there is no greater foolishness than seeking virtue in Winstor.”

Benjamin muttered with a cynical air.

“So then, Mina. What do you plan to do from here? If you have something up your sleeve, now would be a good time to come clean.”

“Nothing of the sort.”

Answering with perfect nonchalance, Wilhelmina swept her gaze around the hall.

“The atmosphere is just as I expected, fortunately.”

“What expectation?”

“Well… adequately frenzied, with a touch of madness to it.”

Benjamin laughed and nodded at the blunt reply. Then he leaned toward his sister’s ear and murmured warmly.

“You know, Mina? Sometimes, listening to the things you say, I find myself missing Francesca’s shotgun.”

“I only stated the facts. You know it yourself, being a married man. This inefficient and extravagant affair has something inherently maddening about how it operates.”

What was a ball, at its core? It was a place where unmarried men and women, or rather their parents, who were invariably far more desperate than their children, went about with eyes burning with purpose. All in search of the most suitable partner for that lifelong contract called marriage.

Yet the number of eligible bachelors or unmarried women with the right qualifications was always desperately limited.

In such circumstances, imagine a single man appearing with the kind of immense wealth or lofty title capable of changing a family’s fortunes entirely.

There was nothing more to consider. Every trace of the madness drifting softly through the hall would converge on that one new and irresistible prospect, that single eligible bachelor.

And that would be the perfect moment for Wilhelmina to present a bill twice the size.

All that remained was to exercise a little patience until then.

***

At that same hour, Cassian Winstor was on the verge of breaking into a cold sweat.

Not, as idle gossips who didn’t know him might assume, because he was dazzled by the capital’s lavish spectacle or the charms of beautifully dressed young ladies.

The truth was closer to saying he was thoroughly fed up with this strange and blind frenzy.

From the age of sixteen as a naval recruit to his rise to admiral, he weathered countless brushes with life and death. But the threat he felt now was a kind he never encountered even in the middle of a naval battle with cannonballs raining down. Why on earth should he feel the surreal sense of danger that his clothes might be torn off in this very public place?

There was no need to scan the perimeter the way he did at sea. Wherever he looked, all he saw was a swirl of rustling fabric.

Silver, white, lavender, green… surrounded on all sides by young ladies of marriageable age in dresses of colors people generally called refined, along with their chaperones, Cassian thought.

This was, without question, the most elegant prison in the world.

“Your Highness Cassian.”

And here was the man who dared throw him into this pastel-toned hell.

“Count Wilbright.”

The affable-looking man, flanked on either side by his two unmarried daughters, executed a practiced bow.

“I am deeply grateful for your gracious presence, Your Highness. Belated as it is, I am truly sorry about the late king.”

How much sincerity was contained in those words of condolence? About as much as the paper wrapping around a chocolate, Cassian estimated with cold cynicism.

“Of course, my daughters here also hope to have the opportunity to personally express their condolences to Your Highness…”

“How very devoted.”

Cassian murmured.

“Now I understand why my brother Edward trusts you.”

Even at the blatant jab, Count Wilbright showed no sign of flustering.

“To be of service to the House of Winstor. It is nothing more than my humble good fortune.”

“Your Highness Cassian!”

A man who stood nearby, barely containing his impatience as he waited for his chance, spoke up urgently.

“I too wish to offer my belated condolences. And if my niece here could also…”

“Might you allow her the chance to greet Your Highness? In that case, my younger sister as well…!”

Cassian made an effort to smile politely. More precisely, he made an effort to look as little like a butcher as possible.

“I’m afraid I have a prior engagement.”

“Oh, a prior engagement! Then, wherever might your appointment be?”

“Surely they haven’t arrived yet? In that case, why not pass the time in conversation with me and my daughter?”

The situation was beginning to heat up. Cassian kept his polite smile in place and thought.

‘D*mn you, Edward Winstor.’

His second eldest brother was a genuinely clever son of a b*tch.

Edward was currently stalling by pointing to Cassian’s unmarried status, but he also knew that marriage was not a particularly difficult matter for his younger brother.

So this spectacle was a kind of warning. A warning that said: ‘When you make up your mind to marry, finding someone untouched by my influence won’t be easy.’

He was probably also hoping that Cassian would grow so sick of the very idea of marriage that he’d give it up entirely. If that was the plan, it was working with remarkable effectiveness. Less than ten minutes after arriving, the urge to leave rose all the way to his throat. It would have been the same even if he didn’t have a clear reason keeping him rooted to the spot.

It was precisely at the moment Cassian quietly clenched his teeth that it happened.

“Oh, I can’t breathe…”

A young lady standing to Cassian’s left pressed a hand to her forehead and murmured breathlessly.

“Miss Audrey?”

“I feel dizzy… someone please…”

She swayed as though on the verge of fainting, casting a blatantly pointed look in his direction. Her intention to fall into Cassian’s arms in front of everyone present was embarrassingly obvious.

Being played like this by such a transparent scheme was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t simply dodge her either. He’d become the laughingstock of the entire country for a hero of the seas fleeing from a young lady.

There was nothing to be done. He couldn’t avoid a tiresome scandal from this, but it seemed preferable to getting needless grief from his men when he eventually returned to sea.

Just as Cassian sighed and moved to extend his arm.

“Oh my, are you all right, miss?”

Someone who appeared suddenly from the crowd caught Miss Audrey just as she began to fall and steadied her.

Cradled in a firm pair of arms, Miss Audrey opened her eyes to slits and asked faintly.

“Is that… Your Highness?”

“Good heavens, what nonsense.”

The pleasant-looking handsome man clicking his tongue was a face Cassian recognized.

“What are you all doing? Please step back, everyone. I understand you’re pleased to see His Highness, but someone is going to get hurt.”

Dark brown brows furrowed, Benjamin Priestley began firmly directing the pressing crowd back.

It was, to be sure, an admirable response befitting a well-regarded gentleman of Winstor and a married man at that… but Cassian’s attention was on the person standing behind him.