Never?

‘So it’s decided? You never want to marry?’ Evangeline stared at Seraya as if she had no sense. But Seraya had sense. She had thought long and hard about this decision. ‘Are you insane?’

‘Quite the opposite.’ Seraya plucked a cherry from a bowl and continued circling the dining room table as they waited for their parents to come down for the ball. ‘I simply do not need a husband.’

‘Is this…’ Evangeline hesitated, fidgeting with her gloves. ‘Is this because of what happened in your first season out?’

Seraya paused in her steps. ‘No.’

‘But Seraya.’ Evangeline took a step toward her and took her hands in hers. ‘You always wanted a husband.’

 ‘That was before.’ She pulled her hands back and straightened her gown. ‘I do not wish for one anymore.’

Without waiting for her sister’s response, she turned and walked out of the dining room.

It was true that she used to want a husband, but that was before she fell in love with Lord Harrison Marshall. He had been everything Seraya wanted in a husband. He was handsome, with the brownest of eyes and the most beautiful hint of freckles she had ever seen on a man. He was intellectual, good at conversation, humorous, and he knew how to treat a lady—or so she thought.

Just as the season was about to come to an end, Harrison disappeared, leaving her nothing but a letter. A letter that stated he was going to America. A letter that told her he didn’t know if he would ever be back. A letter that expressed his love for her. And yet encouraged her to find a husband in another man.

That was all he had left for her. There was no real explanation. And for so long, she had blamed herself.

It had been two years since then, and she had finally healed, but at what cost? She refused to give her heart away only for it to be broken again. And so she resolved never to fall in love—never to marry. 

She didn’t care what society had to say about it. She would show no interest in the balls. She would deter any prospects, rather than welcome them. And she would do that every season until she was considered too old to be courted. 

The carriage came to a halt and Seraya could not have exited faster.

Evangeline had decided to announce Seraya’s decision in the carriage, and in the twenty minutes it took to get to the palace, she had had to endure her mother’s nagging. Her father did not have much to say on the matter, but her mother could not have been more insistent. 

‘I can no longer hear you, Mother,’ Soraya shouted as she hurried across the gravel path towards the palace. ‘The chatter is too loud.’

She lifted her skirts as she climbed the stairs and she couldn’t help but notice the lavishness of the ladies around her. Most of their gowns were made of the best fabric, with many ruffles and adorned with several sequins.

The rumours must have been true then. The queen’s niece was to enter society that season.

Soraya allowed herself a moment of amusement, but she wouldn’t judge the ladies. That might have been her too if she still cared to find a husband.

It was clear that the ladies were attempting to get the gentlemen’s attention before the queen’s niece stole it. It was a pointless effort, however, because if this rumour was true, then the rumour that the queen had already set to introduce her niece to a gentleman from America must have been true too.

Soraya stepped into the foyer and made her way to the great hall. People were already gathered on the dance floor. Soraya glanced around the ballroom, searching for any sign of her brothers. They had moved out a few years ago after getting married, but she knew that when they arrived with their wives and heard word of her decision, they would find her.

When she was sure neither of them had arrived yet, she began to move through the crowd towards the corner of the room when she caught sight of movement on the balcony. 

A young lady was approaching the queen where she sat overlooking the ball. She greeted her with a curtsy and the queen smiled before gesturing that she take a seat in the chair beside her. She must have been the niece, and she truly was beautiful. Soraya had never seen hair that vivid, and the dress she wore was so simple and yet so perfect. If it wasn’t for that American gentleman the queen was to set her up with, every lady would have the right to fear for the man they had an interest in.

Soraya continued walking and found herself a spot in the corner of the room. She set to do nothing but observe, and she had managed to do just that until a gentleman approached her and asked for the next dance.

She looked at him apologetically and lifted her wrist to reveal her call card. ‘Sorry, I’m booked all evening.’

The man glanced to the side and Soraya followed his line of vision to see Felix, her eldest brother, watching them. She silently cursed but smiled at the gentleman as he nodded and walked away. She looked in the direction of Felix again only to see him walking towards her.

She turned and walked in the opposite direction, though she had only taken a few steps before someone stepped into her path. She skidded to a halt.

‘Hello, little sister.’ Jasper, her other brother, grinned at the sneer on her face. He looked past her as Felix approached. ‘I told you she would try to make a run for it.’

Soraya turned and faced Felix. ‘Did you send that gentleman my way?’

‘Did you deny his offer to dance?’ He retorted. ‘You know very well that you cannot deny—‘

Soraya raised her arm, the call card dangling from her wrist. ‘It’s full.’

Jasper circled around and stood beside Felix, analysing the card. He grabbed her wrist for a closer look. ‘Lord Candlelight?’ He laughed. ‘You didn’t even try to make the names sound real.’

She pulled her hand away and shrugged. ‘I was just naming what I saw.’

‘Soraya, be serious,’ Felix cut in. 

‘I am being serious,’ she told him. ‘I don’t want a man courting me because I will not marry, as I’m sure you’ve already heard from Evangeline.’

‘Do you understand how difficult life will be as an unmarried woman?’ Felix questioned. ‘You will be without security, without a means of financial support, without—‘

‘Felix, stop,’ she cut him off. ‘You’re worrying too much.’

‘And you’re not worrying at all,’ he went on. ‘Is this because of what happened your first season out?’

Soraya’s expression sobered and Jasper winced. Felix shook his head and ran a hand across his mouth. ‘I did not mean—‘

‘It’s fine,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m just… I’m going to get some air.’

She turned and walked away, questioning herself as she did so. She shouldn’t be letting it get to her. It had been two years since Harriet left her, she was meant to be healed. She was meant to be perfectly fine.

She exited the ballroom and had just stepped into the foyer when she felt a hand catch her wrist. She pulled her hand back and spun around, feeling a sudden surge of frustration.

‘Felix, I said it’s…’ Her words died out in her mouth and she had to blink several times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.  

‘Soraya.’ 

Harriet took a step forward but she took one back, holding her hand out. She needed a moment, but her heart only seemed to grow wilder the longer she stared at him.

He was real. This was real.

She took a breath and forced herself to stand straighter. But she couldn’t remain composed in his presence. That was the thing with him. He always had a way of affecting her; of making everything in her being burn. She blamed it on his eyes, on the hazel hue that nullified every other colour.

‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘I…’ he hesitated for a moment. ‘I saw you leaving the ballroom and I had to stop you.’ He took a step forward and this time, she didn’t step back. ‘I had to say hello.’

‘You…’ She took a moment to process his words, and this time her heart pounded for an entirely different reason. ‘You had to say hello? After two years you came here just to say hello?’

‘Soraya, you need to understand—‘

‘Lord Marshall.’ They turned at the sudden interruption, only to see the queen descending the staircase with her niece. ‘Did I not gesture for you to meet us on the balcony.’

Almost in an instant, Soraya put the pieces together. It was Harriet… Harriet was the gentleman from America that the queen wanted to introduce her niece to. He had come back for that; not for her.

‘My apologies, your majesty.’ Soraya managed a curtsy. ‘I kept him in conversation.’

The queen continued her descent and stopped before Soraya. ‘Remind me of your name.’

‘Miss Soraya Brennan.’

‘Miss Brennan.’ The queen hummed as she looked between them. ‘You two courted a few seasons ago, yes?’

She nodded. ‘That is correct.’

‘Truly?’ The queen’s niece jumped in. ‘Why did you not get betrothed?’

‘Ariella, what did I tell you about your curiosity,’ the queen scolded, but before giving Ariella a chance to respond, she spoke again. ‘But if you must know, Lord Marshall’s parents were against their union. Being of high birth, they insisted that he marry into a more well-renowned family.’

Soraya faltered at that, and before she could stop herself, she turned to Harriet. He had told her that he didn’t care what his family said. He had assured her that their opinion would not deter him. But it had. He had left her, simply because her family wasn’t noble enough.

‘I sure hope there won’t be any old flames rekindled,’ Ariella teased.

‘That won’t happen,’ Soraya assured her and then turned to the queen. ‘Please excuse me.’

With that, Soraya turned and left the foyer. She rushed down the stairs outside but rather than going down the gravel road towards the carriages, she went left toward the corner of the palace, and only when she was sure no one could see her did she let the tears fall.

She hated him. She hated him so much it burned. She had held onto him for so long, hoping against hope that he would return; and now he had, but not for her. He had come back for another lady. A more noble lady. And now they were to court, and the thought of them being betrothed only made Soraya’s heart ache more. The dreams she used to have with Harriet would become a reality for Ariella. Ariella would be the one to move in with him. She would bear his children. She would grow old with him. While Soraya would live her life as a single unmarried lady.

Soraya forced herself to take a deep breath. She couldn’t pity herself. Harriet had made her shed enough tears, and she didn’t need to shed any more for him.

She wiped away her tears and took several more breaths. Once she was sure she was composed, she straightened and made her way back into the ballroom, where she was immediately met by Evangeline who grabbed her by the arm and dragged her right back outside.

‘Evangeline—‘

‘He’s here,’ she whispered, her eyebrows drawn in concern. ‘Oh Soraya, I’m so sorry but I had to warn you. Harriet is here and he—‘

‘I know,’ she told her.

‘What?’

‘I saw him.’

Evangeline blinked. ‘You did?’

‘I did.’

‘And you’re okay?’

‘I am.’

‘Are you sure?’

She nodded again. ‘I think I’m going to leave early.’

‘Me too!’ Evangeline looped her arm around Soraya’s and walked her back into the ballroom. ‘We can tell Mother that we want to retire early, just to let her know we’ve taken the carriage.’ 

They moved through the ballroom and found their mother on the other side. It didn’t take much explaining to do. Their mother basically insisted on it. ‘And you have faced enough stress from us, so go.’

With their arms still linked, Evangeling made to move, but Soraya stayed put. 

‘You don’t have to come with me.’

‘But I want to,’ Evangeline insisted.

‘No, you’re staying.’ She unlinked their arms. ‘You want a husband, do you not?’

‘Well, yes, but—‘

‘Well then find one. I just want to be alone for a bit, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Evangeline wrapped her arms around her. ‘See you back at home.’

Soraya turned and began making her way to the exit, but she had just stepped into the foyer when she heard someone call her name.

Harriet. 

He was making his way down the staircase toward her, taking the stairs two at a time. ‘Are you leaving?’

‘Yes. What do you want, Harriet?’ She demanded. ‘Or should I say, Lord Marshall?’

He frowned. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Lord Marshall.’ Ariella’s voice came travelling down the staircase.

‘Oh look, your bride’s calling.’

A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘She is not my bride.’

‘But she will be soon.’

‘I do not love her.’

Soraya leaned forward. ‘It seems you are incapable of loving anyone, Lord Marshall.’

She moved to walk past him but he caught her by the arm. ‘But I loved you, Soraya,’ he confessed. ‘And I… I still—’

His gaze flickered to a point above her shoulder and she turned to see her brothers approaching. Harriet cursed under his breath but it was loud enough for Soraya to hear.

She faced him with wide eyes. ‘Did you just—?’

Before she could finish her sentence, Harriet released her wrist and held her by the hand instead before leading her into the ballroom. By the time Soraya realised she was allowing herself to be led by him, it was too late. He had led her to the dance floor.

’I just need a few minutes,’ he explained before Soraya could protest. ’And I knew no one would disrupt us on the dance floor.’

The next song began to play and, immediately, Soraya knew she had made a mistake by allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor. The song’s choreography involved close proximity. She would have loved it before. But she hated it now. She hated the way her pulse quickened as their bodies moved in unison. She hated the way her skin tingled where his fingers brushed her back. 

‘I didn’t leave you because of my family,’ he said quietly to her.

‘It doesn’t matter why you left.’ They pushed apart before coming together again, their bodies moving in a slow, deliberate waltz that brought them closer than she cared to admit. ‘The fact of the matter is that you left. And you didn’t have the decency to tell me why.’

‘I wanted to,’ he told her. His touch was firm, guiding her with an ease that made her want to hate him even more. ‘I tried to but…’

‘But what?’ She tried to keep her expression cold, but every time he pulled her into a turn, she found herself losing her resolve.

He hesitated. ‘I couldn’t take it away from you.’

‘Take what away from me?’ she prodded.

He spun her out and pulled her back, their faces inches apart. She could feel his breath on her skin, could see the regret and longing in his eyes. It made her furious, the way he could make her feel so much when she wanted to feel nothing at all.

His voice was softer when he spoke. ‘Your chance of becoming a mother.’

Soraya faltered then. ‘What?’

‘The accident I told you about, the one my brother and I had been in as children…’ His voice trailed off and he averted his eyes. ‘He got betrothed a few years before we met and he hadn’t managed to give his wife a child. Halfway through our season, the physicians linked his inability to give her a child to the accident.’

Soraya’s mind raced as she tried to process all of the information. ‘You mean…’ her voice wavered. ‘You think…’

‘I wanted to tell you,’ he whispered, his voice breaking as he met her eyes again. ‘Every day since I heard, I wanted to. But I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in your eyes. I saw the way you spoke about growing a family, the way looked at the children during our promenades, I just couldn’t… I couldn’t take that away from you.’

Soraya didn’t say anything, and in the final moments of the dance, he pulled her close, their bodies pressed together. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, could see the torment in his eyes as he searched her face for any sign of forgiveness. ‘Say something. Please.’

‘You realise that I can’t just… forgive you.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘You broke my heart. You broke my trust.’ 

The music came to a slow stop, leaving them standing in silence. Soraya pulled away first and she looked up at him. ‘But that doesn’t mean can’t earn it back.’