Despite the best of intentions, my mood remained sour for the days following my meeting with my uncle. As unsurprising as this fact was, given that seeing the man always set me to brooding before, I found myself feeling guilty after two days. I had been an ungrateful guest, hiding away in the rooms that the Harringtons had been so gracious to assign me rather than face Elijah again who had witnessed me at my weakest. But the time for avoidance was running out as I made my way outside to the carriage waiting to take myself, Benthem, and Madison to the Bolton ball this evening. They were already waiting inside for me, I realized as I climbed in and closed the door. The carriage jolted off the moment I was settled.

Benthem was watching me. Madison was doing everything in her power not to.

"What?" I asked him once we were on our way.

"What happened?" Benthem asked in reply.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure, Victor. I left for one afternoon and gave Elijah instructions to take you around town to run your errands and I get back to find you've both locked yourselves away and aren't speaking to each other or anyone else for that matter."

I clenched my jaw and peered out of the window of the carriage. So Elijah hadn't said anything. That seemed to mean something.

"Edward came back," I muttered through gritted teeth after a moment. Benthem sighed immediately in understanding. He leaned his head back on the carriage wall behind him and closed his eyes. "And it appears as though he is refusing to leave until I grant him his wishes."

"Which are?"

"Money, I assume."

"He didn't tell you?"

"I didn't give him the chance. I told him how I felt about his presence. I reminded him of the conversation we had the last time I saw him and that I had meant every word then and I still meant it now. My father didn't have the fortitude to cut him off when he had the chance. I suffer no such resignations."

Benthem gave a solemn nod before peering out through the carriage window himself. Madison said nothing, resigned to quiet observation as was so often the case with the docile elite ladies such as herself. And so, for the rest of the carriage ride, we sat in silence which was likely for the best. I was in no mood for idle conversation.

Necessity, however, dictated that I at least make an attempt at altering my sour mood. We were arriving at the Bolton estate in no time and a crowd was gathering outside of the doors. I could hear laughter and chatter before our carriage even came to a stop. I took a breath, tried my hand at plastering on a smile but that didn't work. It felt far too obviously false. So I settled for an expression of bored indifference and made my way out of the carriage with my friend and his wife.

I was approached immediately by a young woman in a white gown who simply walked right up to me and fluttered her eyelashes in a way that made me half amused and half concerned for her wellbeing. Skilled in the art of seduction, this girl was not. But I gave her a polite nod anyway and moved along the line with Benthem and Madison. We made it a few more steps down the row when another girl in white approached to welcome me with a polite curtsey and a wholesome grin. That was when I noticed it. The white. They were all wearing white. Every single one of them. Every girl who had vyed for my attention and even those who hadn't yet had the courage. Every available woman in town, wearing white. I blinked, dumbfounded, and turned to Benthem who seemed to be finding the whole affair much more amusing than I was. Even Madison seemed stunned.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Oh?" I asked.

"She tried to warn her," Madison muttered quietly.

"Who? Who tried to warn who?"

But she wasn't listening. Lost in a trance, she was spinning slowly around, taking in the sea of white just as I was. This was ludicrous, this was insane, this was- what was this? And why white?

"Thank heavens it hasn't gotten out that your favorite color is green, Victor," Benthem was mocking in a whisper as we made our way to the doors. "We wouldn't be able to distinguish them from the trees."

He chuckled at his own joke as we greeted Mr. and Mrs. Bolton as well as their eligible daughter, dressed also in white, who blushed furiously when I said her name and stared at the floor the entire time we spoke with her parents. I left her there, dull and uninteresting, to greet the rest of her guests, and headed straight for the bar. If what Benthem had said was true and this was somehow all for me, I would need quite a bit of liquid courage to get through the night. Madison seemed to feel the same. She beat me there and downed an entire glass of champagne before I could even get my order out. I thought to ask her what she had meant earlier when she said someone had tried to warn someone else but she seemed too shaky to question at present. So instead I turned my attention to my fresh glass of brandy and downed it as quickly as I could.

"I didn't believe it, not truly. I had to see it for myself," a familiar voice spoke and my jaw clenched of its own accord before I even looked up to see my uncle striding toward me in a resplendent tailcoat he undoubtedly couldn't afford, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "But if this is all for you," he gestured at the sea of white with a hand, "well, quite impressive indeed."

"You came," I said flatly.

"I said I would, did I not?"

"You did. But I didn't think you'd have the audacity to actually show up."

"Is all of this for your title? Your land? Is that what they're after?"

"What? It couldn't be my devilish good looks?"

Edward chuckled. I hated the sound.

"I imagine that lends itself in your favor as well," he mused, considering me as he swirled the contents of his glass. "I've been asked about you already. They're fascinated to meet me, your dear old uncle. Probably think I have some sort of in with you, some sort of sway on your mind as you make this momentous decision."

"What decision?"

"Why, choosing a bride of course."

My gaze snapped to him.

"And who said that was what I was doing here?" I queried.

"Come now, Victor. A man of means such as yourself does not leave his comfortable estate and forgo a summer in the city just to hide out here in the countryside for no reason."

"No," I agreed. "But perhaps a man might hide out in the countryside to avoid a mess a certain uncle of his has made back home."

"So you're letting it all blow over then, are you? That's how you've decided to handle it?"

"What I've decided, uncle-"

But I froze. I could see that the entryway doors behind my uncle had opened again and a very familiar family was arriving. I saw Elijah first. His eyes met mine and he gave a brief nod before leading Emily, dressed in pure white like the others, deeper into the party. The Earl and the Countess followed and, behind them, dressed head to toe in a stunning black silk gown, was Ella Harrington herself. My lips parted at the sight of her, I heard my own pulse in my ears. That was becoming a problem. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but stare at her, a raven among doves, so dark and so lovely.

"Victor?" my uncle was speaking my name but it was as if he were on the other side of a deep chasm and all I heard was the echo of his voice from very far away. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. She shook Lord Bolton's hand and the silk swirled around her like a hungry black cloud, wrapping and unwrapping itself around her form. She had done something to her eyes as well, darkened the lids to match the gown. It made the blue in her irises pop even more than usual. She breezed away from the Boltons, as if drifting on her cloud of black silk, and looked up, looked at me. Our eyes met and the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile but I, the coward I was, snapped my gaze away, turning back to the bar to order a second glass of brandy. My uncle, who unfortunately seemed to have been watching the whole exchange, sidled up next to me.

"Who's the girl?" he asked knowingly. My eyes ticked up at him momentarily before I pulled them back down to my drink and made a concentrated effort to get ahold of myself.

"No one," I muttered.

"Oh ho! Don't you lie to me boy. I know that look better than you might think. I've seen that look before, you know. When your father met your mother. And I've seen you look at other women before too, boy, but never like that."

My jaw tightened as I took my drink, stood, and faced my uncle. I got close to him so that there would be no mistaking my tone or what I had to say to him.

"Leave," I growled and left it at that, taking my glass and heading away from the bar, away from him, for a bit of respite.

Unfortunately, none was to be had. I was swarmed by a shroud of white the moment I left Edward's side. Ten women at least, all in their white gowns, all hinting that they would absolutely love a dance with me when the time for music came. But I was in no mood for polite smiles and expected pleasantries so I muttered a customary "excuse me" and pushed my way through them to find Elijah on the other side. He was speaking with an older, distinguished looking gentleman whom I did not recognize but he dismissed him when he saw me approach.

"Your Grace," he said in greeting but I interrupted him before he could get any farther.

"I want to offer my sincerest apologies," I told him. "For what you witnessed the other day in town. I realize that how I spoke to my uncle may have seemed offensive or disrespectful and I apologize for-"

"No need," Elijah told me, holding up a hand. "No family is perfect."

He smiled kindly at me and held out a hand. I smiled back and shook it, grateful for the understanding, grateful for the kindness and the hospitality he had shown me that he had never owed me.

"Benthem is lucky to have a friend like you," I told him.

"Funny," Elijah said back. "I was just thinking the same about you."

"My ears were burning," someone interrupted and we turned to see that Benthem had joined us. "Victor, I saw Edward. I know the Boltons well. If you would like for me to have him thrown out-"

"No," I told him. "That will only encourage him to try again."

"He's here?" Elijah asked, stunned and I nodded.

"He did say he would be."

"Yes, but-"

"Ah, there's my wife!" Benthem exclaimed, walking off to where Madison stood a few feet away. I couldn't help but notice that Ella was with her, following after her now that Benthem had her by the arm and was pulling her back to our group. "And there's her fifth glass of champagne. Let's just take that, dear. I believe you've had enough."

He pulled the flute from her hands and set it gently down on a passing server's tray.

"The absurdity of it all," Madison was saying, slurring her words only slightly as she made a grand gesture with her hands about the hall. "The white. I mean, the absurdity. Wear white so he'll see you as a bride? So he'll think of you as a wife? Like that's something he's never possibly considered before during this whole charade of courtship we embark upon every year! I mean, the absolute lunacy."

"Madison," Ella was speaking calmly, trying to get her friend's attention, trying to calm her. But I knew the look in her eyes well enough. Madison was thoroughly sloshed and there was nothing that any of them were going to do to change that.

"One Duke!" she cried, holding up a finger which Ella gently lowered. "One Duke comes to town and this whole place loses its marbles. God forbid the King ever make his way through town. It would destroy the place. The gossip alone! Can you imagine?"

"Perhaps we should go and lie down, Madison," Ella was trying. "Or get some tea? Some tea would help."

It wouldn't.

"But the white!" Madison continued. "To imitate a wedding dress! As if a man ever truly cares about the wedding dress, am I right? I mean, all a man cares about on his wedding day is what's underneath the wedding dress, yeah?"

She was looking at us now, the three guys she was standing with. Benthem closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Elijah looked positively horrified, an expression his mother would be proud of. I couldn't help but chuckle into my glass as I took a sip in an effort to hide it.

"Oh come on, Benthem," Madison was saying still. "You don't have to lie. Everyone knows it's true. Right Elijah? Victor?"

It was the first time she had ever called me by my first name. Madison, the ever polite, prim and proper young Lady. It was perhaps the most important bit of evidence that she was truly drunk yet.

"It's not the dress that impresses the man. It's what's underneath. And these ladies should learn that if they truly want to attract a mate. Right, Ella? I mean Ella knows. French silk undergarments that don't practically cover a thing! I mean, that. That is what a man wants to see."

Perhaps it was the only thing that could have sobered Madison up; realizing what she had just said. And that realization had come largely, I imagine, from our expressions as a result of her words. Pure shock. That was the only way I could describe the looks on Benthem and Elijah's faces which I imagine looked much like my own. But it was nothing compared to the mixture of blazing fury and humiliation on Ella's.

"Oh... no," Madison said then, her face pale and her lips parted as if surprised by the words they had let slip from her tongue. "Ella."

But Ella was gone, turned and fled through the sea of white, black silk tendrils flowing in her wake.

"Bloody hell," Madison cursed for the first time I had ever heard. Benthem stepped forward, kindly and gently taking his wife by the arm.

"Let's find you a place to rest, dear."

With that, he led her away, leaving Elijah and I alone, stunned. Though I knew that standing next to her brother was the very last place I should be thinking about Ella Harrington's undergarments, I couldn't help it. Madison's words had painted a visual that my mind was not eager to let go of. Was it true? Was that what was "underneath" Ella Harrington's gown? And why was I so interested? I cleared my throat and straightened my lapel, embarrassed, as if Elijah could hear my thoughts. Perhaps he could. Or, at least, perhaps he could follow a logical train of thoughts which would have led me to think of such things after having heard what Madison said. I turned to him, hoping to apologize or make the situation better somehow, though I wasn't sure how exactly I intended to do so, when I was interrupted unexpectedly by another member of the family.

"Your Grace?" a small, quiet voice asked and I turned to see Emily standing before me, a timid smile on her face. "Would you like to dance?"

I looked from the girl to her brother who just blinked at her in surprise. It was uncommon for a woman to ask a man to dance and yet here she was. My lips parted to answer her but no words came out. I glanced in the direction that Ella had fled but saw no sign of her. Emily was waiting for my answer to her request. My brain was whirring, trying to find an answer that wouldn't make me seem like an ass. In the end, only one seemed acceptable.

"Yes."