Chapter Ten: Shadows and Shifts

The morning after Ramon's visit, Jenny stood at the mirror brushing her hair with practiced calm, but beneath the stillness, something stirred. She was no longer the girl who had arrived helpless and frightened. She had learned to listen, to read, to wait and now, she was learning to act.

The encounter with Ramon had shaken something loose. Not hope. Not love. Something more dangerous.

Control.

Evelyne was not a woman who took humiliation lightly. The scandal Jenny had dropped in the drawing room festered like a wound. She no longer strolled the halls with lifted chin and smug lips. No now she skulked.

But Jenny knew it was only a matter of time before she struck back.

And she was right.

One morning, as Jenny took tea with Grace and embroidered beneath the terrace, a young maid approached, pale-faced and trembling.

"Milady... your gown for the ball... it's been ruined."

Jenny looked up. "Ruined how?"

The girl hesitated. "A bottle of ink... poured over the fabric... it's... it's beyond saving."

Grace gasped. "How horrid."

Jenny stood slowly. "Was anyone seen near my wardrobe?"

"No, milady. But Lady Evelyne's maid was on that floor."

Jenny's mouth curved faintly. "Of course she was."

She chose not to raise a fuss. Not yet. Instead, she visited the dressmaker in town once more, where whispers of the Lady's disgrace and the new Viscount's interest chased her like shadows.

Ben arrived just as she was selecting fabrics.

"A tragedy averted," he said, brushing a thumb over the deep burgundy silk she held. "This suits you better than the last anyway."

She raised a brow. "Are you stalking me, my lord?"

"Not stalking. Protecting."

She laughed softly. "From what?"

"From anyone who fails to see you as you are."

Jenny flushed but did not look away. "And how do you see me?"

He stepped closer, his voice lower. "As a fire that's just beginning to burn."

Their eyes held the silence between them.

But she turned before it could deepen. "You'll see me at the ball, then."

"I'll be watching no one else."

Back at the manor, Ramon watched from the upper gallery as she returned with her parcels. He couldn't hear her laughter, but he saw it on her face light, soft, and free. Ben had walked her to the carriage, hand on her elbow like it belonged there.

Ramon crushed the wine glass in his hand.

The night of the ball came like a thunderstorm held in silk and chandeliers. Nobles poured into the estate from every direction lords and ladies dressed in excess, their ambitions masked by smiles.

Jenny emerged at the top of the grand stairs.

A hush fell.

She wore the burgundy gown off-shoulder, fitted to her waist, the bodice embroidered with crimson thread that sparkled like blood under candlelight. Her hair was in soft waves, pinned with a single black diamond comb.

Ramon turned.

His breath caught.

He had seen her dozens of times. But never like this.

She walked down the stairs like she had been born to own them.

Ben met her at the base, bowing with a smile that reached his eyes. He took her hand. "You've stolen the room."

"I intend to keep it," she whispered.

Ramon remained rooted in place, watching, seething.

Evelyne, in pale gold, sidled up to him. "You sent her that necklace, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I'm to deliver it, like some glorified servant?"

He looked at her sharply. "You wanted to remind her who you are. Now's your chance."

Jenny and Ben stood near the musicians when Evelyne approached. She held out a velvet box.

"From your husband," she said sweetly. "He thought you might like something pretty to wear over your borrowed gowns."

Ben frowned, but Jenny remained serene.

She took the box and opened it.

Inside lay a diamond choker elegant, cold, exquisite.

Jenny took it out, fastened it around her neck with steady fingers, and said, "Thank you. Please tell Lord Ramon I appreciate the gesture."

Evelyne's lips thinned. "I'm sure he'll be delighted."

Jenny turned away, back to Ben. "Shall we dance?"

As they spun across the marble floor, Ramon watched from the shadows, every step driving a splinter into his chest.

Midway through the ball, Jenny excused herself to the terrace for air. The night was cool. She leaned on the railing, eyes closed.

"Quite the performance," came a voice.

Ramon.

She didn't turn. "You wanted her to deliver it, didn't you?"

"She insisted."

"She made it a show."

"So did you."

She turned then. "You've made me into this, you know."

He stepped closer. "I made you my wife."

"And then abandoned the title."

"I didn't know what to do with you."

"Because I wasn't her."

He paused. "No. Because you weren't anyone. And now... you're becoming someone I don't know how to face."

She laughed, bitter and bright. "Then don't face me. I'm not here for your approval."

"I know," he said quietly. "But I want it."

She blinked. "What?"

"I see you," he said. "And I don't know if I want to fight you or fall at your feet."

Jenny's voice was cold. "You're too late for both."

She turned to go.

He grabbed her wrist. "Wait"

She looked at him, eyes blazing. "Let go, Ramon."

He did.

And just like that, she disappeared back into the ballroom.

Inside, Evelyne stood near the fireplace, lips tight. A servant whispered something in her ear.

Her eyes widened.

"Where did you say she went?"

The servant pointed toward the library.

Evelyne followed.

In the library, Jenny stood before a painting one of the late Earl, Ramon's father. The servant who had helped her secure the Norchester letter was nearby, hiding in the shadows.

"I'll need another copy," she said softly. "This time, with the parish seal. And something stronger about Evelyne's brother. Find what you can."

"Yes, milady."

A soft click.

Evelyne stepped in.

Jenny turned.

"Well," Evelyne said with a sneer. "I knew you were clever. I didn't know you were calculating."

Jenny smiled. "I learn from the best."

"You think you can ruin me?"

"No," Jenny said, walking past her. "I think you'll do it yourself."

Evelyne's nails bit into her palm. "You don't belong here. You never did."

Jenny didn't look back. "That's what they said about the weeds. Until they bloomed."

The ball ended in a blaze of whispers.

Ben kissed Jenny's hand.

Grace hugged her.

Ramon watched, silent.

And Evelyne? She returned to her chamber, locked the door, and began to draft a letter of her own.

But Jenny had already stolen the ink.