As Ivy approached, she could not help but feel a sense of worry. Her father, Mr. Taylor, was a man of wealth and authority, his firm character striking fear into the hearts of many. Lord Wellington, on the other hand, showed confidence and sophistication, with his sharp wit and cunning intellect making him a force to be reckoned with.
"Ah, there she is," Mr. Taylor said, his voice booming as he saw Ivy. "My dear daughter, allow me to introduce you to Lord Wellington."
Ivy gave Lord Wellington a courteous courtesy, her heart thumping fiercely in her breast as she held out her hand. She was nervous, but her voice remained steady as she said, "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Wellington."
Lord Wellington's eyes remained on ivy for a moment, his gaze intense and shrewd. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Taylor," he replied, his tone smooth and polished. "Your father speaks so highly of you."
Lord Wellington's remarks gave Ivy a brief moment of pride, but the tension in the air soon eclipsed it. Between her father and Lord Wellington there was an underlying competition, an ego conflict that could blow up at any time.
Mr. Taylor fixed a stern glance on Lord Wellington, his lips tightening into a smile.
"Indeed, she is a credit to our family," he said, with his voice dripping with pride. "But enough pleasantries, Lord Wellington. I believe we have matters to discuss."
With an incomprehensible expression, Lord Wellington raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Mr. Taylor," he answered in an impartial tone. "But maybe we can put things off until later. After all, isn't the main reason we're here to have fun and mingle in society?"
"My son's engagement is to be announced here soon, a monument to the Wellington name.' Lord Wellington said with such pride.
After hearing Lord Wellington's remarks, Mr. Taylor's jaw tensed, but he nevertheless managed a pleasant grin and nodded. "Congratulations," he remarked, his voice clipped. "But I trust we will have the opportunity to continue our urgent discussion soon."
With that, Mr. Taylor turned and went on into the crowd, leaving Ivy alone with Lord Wellington. Ivy felt uneasy as she met Lord Wellington's gaze, his eyes meeting with hers with an intensity that made her heart race.
"Your father is a formidable man, Miss Taylor," Lord Wellington said, his voice low and measured. "But I fear he underestimates the power of us Lords."
Lord Wellington's remarks caused Ivy's heart to race as her mind raced with all the implications of what he had spoken. Her voice was hardly audible above a whisper as she said, "What do you mean?".
Lord Wellington answered with a smile on his face. "Let's just say, my dear, that your father is not the only one with ambitions in this city," he said, with a very mysterious tone. "There are those who would do anything to see his like fall."
Ivy felt a chill run down her spine at Lord Wellington's words, the realization that her family was in far greater danger than she had ever put thought to.
After managing to leave Lord Wellington's presence, Ivy felt a mix of relief and worry. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom. As she was about to head for the garden she bumped into her sister.
"What?" Ivy asked, feeling self-conscious under her sister's inspection.
Freya shrugged; her eyes wide open with excitement. "Nothing, it's just.... You seem different tonight," she said. "Almost like you are hiding something."
A wave of embarrassment hit Ivy at the accusation. "I am not hiding anything," she insisted, although Freya thought of her reply as a lie.
With a skeptical expression, Freya replied "if you say so." Although Ivy could tell that she was not convinced.
The music shifted, announcing a new dance, before Ivy could answer. Couples started to make their way to the dance floor, where they spun and twirled together.
"Shall we dance?" Freya asked, holding out her hand to Ivy.
Ivy paused, her thoughts still on what had happened that evening. However, she could not help but see an irresistible hint of mischief as she met Freya's gaze.
Ivy said, "Of course," taking Freya's hand and letting her lead her onto the dance floor.
As they danced, Ivy felt herself relaxing. The rhythm, movement and harmony were soothing to her worried nerves. She lost herself in the music, letting go of her worries, allowing herself to simply enjoy the moment.
But as the dance continued, Ivy became aware of a pair of eyes watching them from across the room. She looked in the direction of the gaze and felt her breath catch in her throat.
"Arnold, the stranger with you in the gardens" Freya exclaimed. He was standing at the edge of the dance floor staring at Ivy with his mask covering his face, their faces unreadable.
Ivy felt both excited and afraid as her heartbeat raced when she saw him. She experienced an inexplicable magnetic draw toward him that seemed to defy logic.
As the dance came to an end, Ivy found herself unable to take her eyes away from the direction of Arnold. She felt a hand on one shoulder and turned to see Freya looking at her with concern.
"Are you alright, Ivy?" Freya asked, with her face full of worry.
Ivy snapped out of her focused gaze, forcing a smile. "I am fine," she replied, though she knew it was a lie.
Freya took her time to study every corner of her face and body for any sign of truth. Finding none, she sighed, her expression softening with understanding.
"Just be careful, okay?" Freya said, giving Ivy's hand a reassuring squeeze before moving to join the other dancers.
Alone once more, she turned her attention back to Arnold, but he was gone. She trailed him, walking towards the entrance of the garden.
Ivy knew she should not be drawn to him, but she could not help but feel butterflies' course through her stomach to her veins.
The night went on and Ivy followed the trail of anticipation left by Arnold towards the gardens. As it stands, the gardens looked like the place where both their lives would cross paths with no way of going back.