The moon had climbed high into the night sky, a silver coin in the vast, dark expanse. The gentle clip-clop of horses' hooves and the crunch of gravel under wheels were the only sounds as Delia's carriage pulled into the courtyard. The long day had bled into an even longer evening, and a deep weariness had settled into her bones. The driver helped her down from the carriage. The gesture was kind, but it did little to ease the tension knotted in her shoulders.
Delia rubbed the back of her neck, trying to work out the stiff ache that had formed there. "I never knew it would be so difficult," she murmured to herself as she saw the hired carriage leaving, annoyance lacing her tired voice. "To find something, anything, on someone so prominent. I thought it would be easier to find information on someone popular."
She had spent the entire day in the bustling town center. After selling her father's brooch—an act that left a bitter taste in her mouth—she had felt a surge of hope. The money felt like power in her pocket, a key that could unlock any door.
But the doors to Duke Eric Carson's world
were heavier and more tightly sealed than she had ever imagined. She had tried talking to merchants who dealt in dyes, hoping for a business connection. She had discreetly questioned servants from other noble houses in taverns, hoping for gossip. But the Duke was like a ghost. His business was managed through intermediaries, his social life was exclusive, and his movements were a closely guarded secret. The few whispers she did catch were vague and unhelpful, costing her precious coins for nothing more than speculation.
With a heavy sigh, she climbed the stone stairs leading to the grand front door. Before opening it, she paused under the soft glow of the porch lamp. She reached into the small purse tied to her waist and poured the remaining coins into her palm. Her heart sank as she looked at the meager collection of copper and silver.
"Ugh!" she grunted in frustration, clenching her fist around the coins. The substantial sum she had received for her father's brooch had dwindled to almost nothing. She had paid for information that led nowhere, for whispers that turned out to be lies, and for the day-long hire of the carriage.
"This won't be enough. This is nowhere near enough." Her first independent attempt at scheming had been a failure, a costly and fruitless endeavor.
Feeling defeated, she pushed the heavy oak door open and slipped inside. The house was quiet. She made her way up the main staircase to her room, her footsteps silent on the thick runner. She quickly changed out of her dusty day dress and into a simple gown suitable for an evening meal, not that she had much of an appetite.
As she descended the stairs again, drawn by the faint hope of finding some leftovers in the kitchen, she heard voices coming from the small parlor. It was Augusta and Anne, their tones lively and excited. Old habits died hard. Delia instinctively slowed her steps, hugging the shadows of the hallway to listen, her own disappointment momentarily forgotten.
"Mama, did it work? Tell me it worked!" Anne's voice was high with impatience, like a child demanding a promised sweet.
There was a pause, and then Augusta's voice, smooth and triumphant, cut through the air. "Patience, my sunshine." Delia could picture her stepmother raising a hand to silence her eager daughter.
"Behold." Another short pause, followed by a triumphant smile in her voice. "Three of them."
A delighted squeal erupted from Anne. "Three! Oh, Mama, thank you! But how? How did you manage it?"
"I am your mother," Augusta said with smug satisfaction. "I always find a way."
Delia crept closer, peering through the small gap where the parlor door was ajar. She could see Augusta holding up three thick, cream-colored envelopes, each sealed with an elegant wax crest. "I paid a visit to an old acquaintance, Baroness Dupont. Her family has been friendly with the Carsons for generations. I bribed her."
"With what?" Anne asked, her eyes wide.
"With that exquisite tapestry I bought at the auction this morning," Augusta explained. "It cost a fortune, but it was worth it to see the greedy look in her eyes. And do you know what she told me in return?"
Anne shook her head eagerly, hanging on her mother's every word.
"Duke Eric is returning home tomorrow, in the morning at best." Augusta announced, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "His mother, the Duchess, is so thrilled that she has planned a grand ball for tomorrow night to welcome him home."
Anne clapped her hands together, her face a perfect picture of ecstasy. "A ball! Tomorrow! Oh, Mama, it's perfect!"
"It gets better," Augusta continued, clearly enjoying her role as the bearer of good news. "Baroness Dupont has arranged for you to have a brief, private meeting with the Duke in the afternoon, before the ball even begins. A personal introduction."
Anne launched herself at her mother, wrapping her in a fierce hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the best mother in the entire world!" She pulled back, her mind already racing. Then a thought struck her, and she looked at the three invitations her mother still held.
"Wait," she said, her brow furrowed. "Why are there three? Who has the third invitation?"
"It's for Delia," Augusta said simply.
The name dropped into the room like a stone. Anne stared at her mother in disbelief. In the hallway, Delia's own heart skipped a beat. She was just as shocked as Anne. This made no sense.
"Delia?" Anne repeated, her voice laced with confusion and displeasure. "Why?"
"Baroness Dupont insisted," Augusta explained with a sigh, her tone making it clear it was not her own idea. "Apparently, she mentioned that since our households are joined, it would be a social misstep not to include my husband's daughter. You know how these old, traditional families are about proper etiquette. To refuse would have been an insult. We need them to see us as a proper, respectable family."
Anne pouted for a moment, clearly unhappy with the development. But her desire to attend the ball was stronger than her dislike for her stepsister. She shrugged, dismissing the issue. "Ugh! Fine," she conceded. "As long as she stays out of my way and doesn't embarrass us."
Delia, hidden behind the parlor door , felt a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. After a day of failures, of wasted money and dashed hopes, the universe had just handed her a golden opportunity on a silver platter. "It seems," she thought, a spark of hope reigniting within her, "that fate is in my favor after all."
Anne's attention had already moved on. "What will I wear, Mama?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I need to look absolutely perfect. I need to capture his attention the moment he sees me."
Baroness Augusta was prepared. She gestured to the sofa, where two large, flat boxes lay. "I took the liberty," she said, her voice dripping with pride. She opened the lid of the first box to reveal a magnificent gown of shimmering sapphire silk, adorned with delicate silver embroidery. The second box held a gown of pale rose satin, covered in tiny seed pearls that shimmered like captured moonlight. They were the most beautiful dresses Delia had ever seen.
"Oh, Mama!" Anne gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "They're beautiful! Thank you!"
While Anne and Augusta happily discussed which gown would be more suitable for capturing a Duke's heart, Delia silently backed away from the door. She retreated up the stairs to the solitude of her room, her mind buzzing. The frustration and despair from earlier had evaporated, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and sharp, focused determination.
She closed her door and leaned against it, the invitations, the ball, the private meeting—it was all a lot of information. Anne was being handed a golden path directly to the Duke. But Delia now had a ticket to the same event. An unexpected, unearned ticket that changed everything.
"I can't meet him before the ball like Anne can," she thought, pacing her small room. "But I will be at the ball." Her gaze fell upon her wrist, at the rosebud tattoo that was her ticking clock. The stakes were higher than ever. "I'll have to find a way. At the ball, I will find a way to get to Duke Eric. And I will make a much more lasting impression."