Episode 33

The Duke of Cavendish stood before the mirror in his room at the club, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. The night of the ball had arrived. Not that he had any desire to attend. His thoughts still circled the events of the past few days. Lilian had defied him. His sister had stood against him to protect her. And Whitaker… He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. The conversation at the club had not left his mind.

Whitaker’s tone. The way he spoke, as if giving orders. As if he believed he was in control. The Duke let out a frustrated sigh and reached for his coat. It does not matter. In the end, I am still the Duke of Cavendish.

***

In his study, Whitaker finished adjusting the dark silk cravat around his neck. This will be the moment that solidifies my name. By the end of the night, all the problems raised by Sinclair would be resolved. The Duke was no longer an issue. Gabriel was already discredited. Society saw him as a man with no honor. Then… why won’t this feeling of unease disappear? He picked up his wine glass and took a sip, forcing a smile. There is nothing to fear. The plan is perfect. And Lord Sinclair is about to be utterly destroyed.

***

"Take a deep breath, my dear," murmured Lady Penelope, squeezing Lilian’s hands lightly.

Lilian exhaled slowly. The last time she had stood in a ballroom, she had believed her life was decided. Now, everything depended on this night.

Clara approached, holding a necklace that had once belonged to Lilian’s mother.

"This will bring you luck."

Lilian smiled and allowed Clara to fasten it around her neck.

"Are you ready?" Lady Penelope asked.

Lilian lifted her gaze to the mirror and saw the answer in her own eyes. "Yes. I am ready."

***

Lilian’s chambers were silent. She had already gone downstairs, leaving only Clara and Lady Penelope near the vanity. Clara remained standing, watching as Lady Penelope slipped on her gloves.

Lilian’s godmother finally seemed to have a moment of peace after days of dealing with the scandal surrounding her goddaughter. But Clara knew she could wait no longer.

"Milady..."

Lady Penelope lifted her gaze to the mirror. "Yes, my dear?"

Clara hesitated. She had kept this letter for days. She had found it at the bottom of a chest filled with old belongings that had once belonged to Lilian’s mother, brought from the Duke’s house along with the things Lilian had taken with her. Since then, Clara had not known what to do.

"I found this in a chest that came from Lilian’s home… among her mother’s old possessions."

She pulled the small, folded envelope from the pocket of her apron and extended it.

Lady Penelope turned, a slight frown on her face. "Among Lilian’s mother’s belongings?"

She took the letter and opened it carefully. Her eyes quickly scanned the handwriting, and by the time she reached the end, her expression had changed.

Clara held her breath.

"What is it?"

Lady Penelope took a moment to respond. When she finally lifted her gaze, there was something different in her eyes. "My dear..." Her voice was soft but heavy with a meaning Clara could not yet understand. "I believe this letter may be far more important than you realize."

Clara’s heart pounded.

"But… what does it mean?"

Lady Penelope turned the paper over, examining it closely. There was something there she recognized. "It means we need answers."

She placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"But first… we have a ball to attend."

Clara nodded slowly, closing her fingers around the locket she always wore. It was at that moment that Lady Penelope noticed it. Her gaze settled on the small golden pendant hanging from Clara’s neck, its surface catching the glow of the fireplace. A slight furrow of her brow betrayed her surprise.

"That locket… where did you get it?"

Clara instinctively looked down, holding it between her fingers. "I’ve always had it. I don’t remember a time without it."

Lady Penelope extended a hand, silently asking for permission to see it more closely.

Clara hesitated but then unclasped it, placing it in Lady Penelope’s palm.

The silence between them thickened.

Lady Penelope’s fingers traced the surface of the locket until her gaze landed on a subtle detail engraved on the back.

Clara watched as Lady Penelope’s expression shifted.

"What is it?" she asked, anxious.