The Divorced Duchess

07. The Duchess of Veneto

ELEANOR
(unedited)

THREE YEARS LATER

My eyes danced around the ballroom, admiring its intricate beauty. There was a beautiful painting of a heavenly sky decorating the ceiling. Candlelight chandeliers hung down, illuminating the room, and a live orchestra played by the entrance, where a curved staircase led to the dance floor. Navy blue banners with the royal emblem hung down the walls. The maids of high ranking stood on the sides holding trays full of wine and bite-size treats. At the center of the far-end wall was an ice sculpture of the man we were celebrating tonight. Everything was perfect, and the reception was worthy of a royal ball.

"Announcing the arrival of the Duchess of Veneto!" The herald exclaimed loudly for the guests to hear.

Even after three years, I was still not used to the expressions of awe and respect I received when I entered a room. There were a few dirty looks from low-ranking ladies, but I was used to them. I had suffered from the same grimace expressions when I was married to Robert.

Robert.

It had already been three years since the divorce and since I left New York. The wounds had healed, but I could not forget the painful memories. It didn't help that Robert was all over European news lately after he sealed a deal with an English nobleman. I guess he got what he wanted in the end. He'd even stayed true to his word and married Daisy a year after our divorce. I wanted to go to his wedding and tell him he had proved my suspicions of Daisy right, but it no longer mattered.

Despite his betrayal and years of pain, Robert had given me a beautiful gift—my daughter, Emma. She was only two years old, but Emma was smart and sassy. Every day, she reminded me of the girl I was at her age, but she also reminded me of her father. Emma was the spitting image of Robert with her dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. There was no doubt she was a Davis. At times, I could not help but wonder if I should tell Robert about his daughter's existence for Emma's sake, but I did not want to face his possible rejection.

"Your Grace?" The herald pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I hummed, and the herald pointed with his eyes at the line of guests waiting for their introduction. "Oh, my apologies."

I gave the guest behind me an apologetic smile and made my way down the large staircase. The guests of lower-ranking than mine bowed their heads as I walked toward my family.

"You look ravishing tonight, Your Grace." A middle-aged man I knew as Lord Thespian blocked my pathway and gave me a flirty smolder. 

"You flatter me, Lord Thespian," I said in the most composed voice I could muster. I tried to walk around him, but the persistent Lord copied my steps.

"I have been meaning to meet with you, Your Grace. I know it may be inappropriate, but you are a beautiful lady, and a man like me would love to have a wife—"

"I do not mean to be rude, but my family has been waiting for me. Perhaps we could discuss this another time, Lord Thespian?"

Lord Thespian looked as if he wanted to protest, but we both knew it was best if he respected my request. After all, I was not only a Duchess of a foreign nation but also a close relative of the man we were here to celebrate.

"Of course, Your Grace." The old Lord bowed his head. "And perhaps I could dance a piece tonight with you?"

"I—Uhh—"

"I think perhaps not." The familiar, hoarse voice sent a shiver down my spine. Lord Thespian's face went pale as he stared at the man behind me. Ethan gave the man a smug smile as he wrapped his arm around my waist. "Forgive me, Lord Thespian, but the Duchess had already promised to dance every piece with me tonight. Now, if you'll excuse us."