Chapter 9: A Dangerous Game
The Whitmore Ball – Servants’ Hallway
Lucia rushed down the dimly lit corridor, her heart hammering in her chest.
She needed air. Distance. Anything to stop the memories from crashing over her like a tidal wave.
Lord Blackwell was there that night.
She pressed a hand to her temple, breathing heavily.
She hadn’t seen his face clearly in her nightmares before. Just shadows. Fire. But hearing his voice… it was like a key turning in a locked door.
The past was there, waiting to be uncovered.
The deep voice sent a jolt through her.
She turned sharply—Duke Alexander stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, watching her.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
...
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
(forcing a calm tone) I—I was just stepping out for some fresh air, Your Grace.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
(steps closer) You were trembling back there.
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
I don’t know what you mean.
His piercing gaze didn’t waver.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
(tilts his head) Don’t you? You dropped your tray the moment you heard Blackwell’s voice.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
Lucia's fingers curled into her apron. He noticed.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
Just like you flinched when I first saw you in the grand plaza. (he continued, voice dangerously soft) It wasn’t fear of a nobleman, was it?
Every instinct told her to lie. To deflect.
But something about Alexander Ravenswood unnerved her.
It wasn’t just his sharp intellect—it was the way he looked at her, as if he could see through every mask she wore.
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
You’re mistaken, Your Grace. (she finally said, lowering her gaze.)
A tense silence stretched between them.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
(sighed) Perhaps I am.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
But tell me one thing (pauses, stepping closer) Where did you learn to serve?
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
(blinks) What?
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
(gestures to her hands) You carry a tray well enough, but your posture… your movements… They aren’t a servant’s. They’re too refined for a mere servant.
Lucia’s heart pounded.He was testing her.
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
(forces a laugh) I—I worked as a maid in a small home. Nothing grand like this.
Alexander tilted his head slightly, unconvinced.
Duke Alexander Ravenswood / ML
...
Then, without warning, he reached for her wrist.
Lucia flinched. But it was too late.
His thumb brushed against her skin—soft, uncalloused. Not the hands of a maid.
His gaze flickered with realization.
Lucia yanked her arm away, her breath unsteady.
Lady Lucia Sinclair / FL
...
Alexander didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to.
And she wasn’t just any runaway.
She was someone important.
And Alexander Ravenswood was going to find out exactly who she was.
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