Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 136 - Hundred And Thirty Six

Ines watched, her breath trapped in her chest. She knew this was a plan. She knew Carcel had ask her permission to do this and she agreed. But knowing the plan and seeing it happen were two very different things.

Carcel was not pushing Priscilla away. He was not looking at her with the cold, icy glare he usually reserved for people who annoyed him. Instead, he was smiling.

It was a polite smile, the kind of smile a gentleman gave to a lady he respected. He held a glass of wine in one hand, and his posture was relaxed. When Priscilla leaned in close—so close that the feathers in her hair almost brushed his chin—he did not step back. He leaned down slightly to hear her better.

Ines felt a sharp, hot stab of jealousy pierce through her heart. It was a physical pain, twisting in her stomach.

He is acting, she told herself firmly. He is doing this for us. He needs the room to see them talking. He needs witnesses to see Priscilla seeking him out.

But then, Priscilla reached out. Her hand, encased in a lace glove, landed on Carcel’s forearm. She squeezed his arm familiarly. She laughed at something he said, throwing her head back, exposing her long, pale neck.

Carcel did not shake her off. He simply nodded, his expression attentive.

To anyone watching—and Ines noticed that everyone was watching—it looked like an intimate conversation. It looked like the Duke was quite taken with the lady in purple.

"How can he?" Ines whispered to herself.

Logic told her that Carcel was making the trap perfect. By being nice to Priscilla, he was feeding her delusion. He was making her believe she had won, so that when she read the fake diary later, her fall would be absolute. He was proving to the ton that she was "obsessed" by letting her corner him.

But Ines’s heart was not logical. Her heart was a jealous, fearful thing. She remembered Priscilla’s threat. Retire Arthur Pendleton or leave Carcel.

What if Priscilla was winning? What if something wrong happens?

Ines felt the room begin to spin. The smell of the perfumes, the heat of the candles, and the sight of Priscilla’s hand on Carcel’s arm became too much. The air felt thick, like soup. She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t stand here and watch this. She couldn’t watch the man she loved pretending to be nice to the woman who wanted to destroy her.

Ines turned away sharply. Her skirts swirled around her legs. She set her glass down on the nearest table with a trembling hand.

She needed to leave. She needed to get away.

She scanned the room frantically, looking for a friendly face. She saw Amelia standing near the entrance to the terrace. Amelia was laughing with an older woman, looking radiant in her rose-colored gown.

Ines pushed through the crowd. She murmured apologies as she bumped into people, but she didn’t stop. She reached Amelia and grabbed her hand.

"Amelia," Ines gasped.

Amelia turned, her smile fading instantly when she saw Ines’s face. Ines was pale, her lips pressed into a thin white line.

"Ines?" Amelia asked, her voice filled with concern. "My dear, what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"I... I feel faint," Ines lied, though it wasn’t entirely a lie. Her knees felt weak. "The heat... the crowd... I think I need to sit down. Somewhere quiet."

Amelia didn’t ask questions. She didn’t look for the Duke. She acted immediately, the perfect hostess and the perfect friend.

"Of course," Amelia said soothingly. She wrapped an arm around Ines’s waist, supporting her. "It is dreadfully stuffy in here. Evans insists on lighting every candle in London."

Amelia raised a hand and snapped her fingers. A maid who had been standing in the shadows hurried over.

"Edwina," Amelia instructed the maid. "Lady Hamilton is unwell. Take her to the room on the second floor. It is quiet there. Open a window and bring her some cool water and smelling salts. Stay with her."

"Yes, My Lady," the maid curtsied.

"Go, Ines," Amelia said gently, squeezing Ines’s hand. "Rest. I will tell Evans you are taking a moment. Do you want me to find the Duke?"

"No!" Ines said, too quickly. She saw Amelia’s surprised expression and lowered her voice. "No... please don’t bother him. He is... occupied. I just need a moment alone."

Amelia nodded slowly, though her eyes were shrewd. She glanced over Ines’s shoulder and likely saw Carcel with Priscilla. A look of understanding—and distaste—crossed Amelia’s face.

"Go," Amelia said firmly. "I will handle things down here."

Ines nodded gratefully. She followed the maid, Edwina, out of the ballroom. They slipped through a side door, escaping the noise and the heat.

The hallway was cool and dimly lit. Ines leaned against the wall for a moment, closing her eyes. The image of Priscilla touching Carcel’s arm burned behind her eyelids.

"This way, My Lady," Edwina said softly. "The stairs are just here."

Ines forced herself to move. She followed the maid up the grand staircase, her hand gripping the banister tight. Every step took her further away from him.

Back in the ballroom, Carcel took a sip of his wine. It tasted sour on his tongue. He was standing perfectly still, listening to Priscilla chatter on about the incompetence of her dressmaker. He was bored. He was annoyed. But mostly, he was getting tired of the act.

"And really, Your Grace," Priscilla was saying, fluttering her eyelashes, "it is so refreshing to speak to a man of taste. Most men find fashion boring, but I know you appreciate beauty."

"I appreciate attention to detail," Carcel said smoothly. His voice was polite, but his eyes were not looking at her. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

He was scanning the room.

He had lost sight of the emerald green dress.

Five minutes ago, Ines had been by the refreshment table. He had seen her watching him. He had seen the hurt in her eyes, and it had nearly broken his resolve. He had wanted to push Priscilla into a potted plant and run to Ines. But he couldn’t. He had to play the part. He had to let the room see Priscilla "stalking" him so that the diary would make sense.

But now, Ines was gone.

Panic flared in his chest, hot and sudden.