Chapter 1

The grand ballroom of Hawthorne Manor was aglow with the soft flicker of candlelight, casting shadows upon the polished marble floors and ornate tapestries that adorned the walls. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale, yet for Eleanor Fairfax, the evening held a daunting weight upon her shoulders.

Clad in a gown of midnight blue silk, Eleanor stood amidst the glittering throng of guests, her heart racing with a mixture of apprehension and determination. She glanced down at the small hand clasped in hers, her son, Oliver, who looked up at her with wide, curious eyes.

"Are you alright, mama?" Oliver whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of the crowd.

"I'm fine, darling," Eleanor replied with a reassuring smile, though her stomach churned with nerves. "Just a little nervous, that's all."

Oliver nodded understandingly, his grip tightening on her hand as they made their way further into the ballroom. Eleanor scanned the faces of the guests, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted him across the room.

Daniel Hawthorne, the man she had loved and lost, stood amidst a group of admirers, his dark hair and piercing blue eyes drawing the attention of all who beheld him. Eleanor's breath caught in her throat as memories of their past flooded her mind, threatening to overwhelm her.

Flashbacks of their time together danced before her eyes, like scenes from a long-forgotten dream. She remembered the first time they had met, a chance encounter at a garden party where he had swept her off her feet with his charm and wit.

Their courtship had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered promises, despite the vast social chasm that made her leave him. Daniel was the heir to a prestigious title, while Eleanor was the daughter of a humble tradesman—a fact that had never failed to cause tension between them.

But their love had conquered all—or so Eleanor had believed—until tragedy had struck, tearing them apart and shattering her world into pieces. She remembered the pain of their separation, the harsh words and bitter accusations that had driven them apart.

And then there was Oliver, their son—a secret she had kept hidden from Daniel for five years now. Eleanor's heart ached at the thought of their son growing up in the problematic environment of her fathers house, but she had been too proud, too afraid to reach out to Daniel for help.

But now things were different. After an incident that shook her, she made the decision to let her son grow up with his father, in the luxury and comfort that a child of Oliver's age should have.

She didn't want to risk her son getting hurt again and the only way to make her wish come true was to abandon her child. 

But they didn't pass unnoticed by Duke Hawthorne. As the music swirled and laughter echoed through the grand ballroom, Daniel Hawthorne stood amidst a cluster of society's elite, his gaze wandering idly across the sea of elegantly dressed guests. His attention was drawn to a figure standing at the edge of the room, a woman clad in a gown of midnight blue silk, her presence casting a magnetic allure that he found impossible to resist.

At first, Daniel's heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of her, his breath catching in his throat as memories flooded his mind like a torrential downpour. Lady Eleanor Fairfax—the woman who had captured his heart so completely, only to vanish from his life without a trace.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered, her golden curls cascading in soft waves around her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of nervousness and determination. But it was the small child standing at her side that truly stole Daniel's breath away—a boy with tousled brown hair and curious blue eyes, who gazed up at his mother with an adoration that spoke volumes.

For a moment, Daniel was frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. He felt a surge of emotions coursing through his veins—joy, disbelief, and a deep-seated longing that he had thought long buried.

Eleanor's presence ignited a fire within him, stirring feelings that he had spent years trying to suppress. He remembered their time together—the stolen moments and whispered confessions, the laughter and tears that they had shared. And he remembered the pain of their abrupt separation, the emptiness that had consumed him in her absence.

But now, she was in front of him ready to come to greet him holding her child's hand. He could feel his heart beating very, very fast.

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor straightened her shoulders and approached Daniel, determination burning in her gaze. She would face him tonight, she vowed, and she would do whatever it took to ensure that she would get what she wanted. 

"Your Grace," Eleanor greeted, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging within her. "May I have a word with you?"

Surprised, he replied, "Of course, come into my office so that we can talk quietly."