The ballroom glittered, a swirling kaleidoscope of silk gowns and polished shoes. Eleanor, a phantom at Julian’s side, had spent the evening observing him, dissecting every glance, every word. He’d been an impeccable husband, by all appearances. He had danced with her, engaged her in conversation (even remembering details from their previous conversations!), and kept Lady Annelise at a polite, but distinct, distance. It was all so…unexpected. So unlike the man she remembered. And it terrified her.

As the waltz drew to a close, Julian escorted her to a less crowded alcove, ostensibly to retrieve a glass of lemonade. But Eleanor felt the electric hum of anticipation, the prickling sensation of being watched. She knew what was coming. The confrontation she'd dreaded.

And there she was. Lady Annelise, a vision in emerald green, her face a mask of barely-contained fury. She moved with the predatory grace of a viper, her gaze locked on Eleanor.

“Duchess,” Lady Annelise purred, the word laced with venom. “A moment of your time, if you please.”

Julian’s hand tightened on Eleanor’s arm, his expression hardening. “Lady Annelise, I believe the Duchess is rather occupied.”

“Oh, I assure you, Lord Beaumont, what I have to say concerns her intimately,” Lady Annelise retorted, her eyes never leaving Eleanor’s. "It concerns the very foundation of this… charade of a marriage."

Eleanor braced herself, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was it. The truth, or rather, the twisted version of it that Annelise intended to present. The validation of her deepest fears.

Julian, sensing the tension radiating from Eleanor, stepped protectively in front of her. “I will not allow you to harass my wife, Annelise.”

Annelise laughed, a shrill, brittle sound that echoed in the alcove. “Harass? My dear Julian, I’m merely offering the Duchess a glimpse behind the carefully constructed façade you’ve erected. Surely, she deserves to know the truth about the man she married.”

She turned to Eleanor, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you know, Duchess, how your husband amassed his fortune? Or rather, how his family’s fortune dwindled to almost nothing before he conveniently ‘rediscovered’ it? It wasn't some stroke of genius, my dear. It was a calculated scheme, involving a rather… generous loan from my family, a loan secured by promises he never intended to keep. Promises made... to me."

Eleanor remained silent, her stomach churning. She had suspected as much. Julian’s recent attentiveness, the emerald necklace, it all pointed to desperation, to a man trying to salvage his reputation, his fortune, perhaps even his future. It was the Dowry! He wants the Dowry! She remembers the Dowry was very substancial, and with it he would be able to pay all his past debts and some more.

Annelise continued, her voice dripping with spite. “And the reason he’s suddenly so attentive? Don’t flatter yourself, Duchess. It’s not because he’s suddenly developed an appreciation for your… charms. It’s because he needs something from you. Something that I, unfortunately, could no longer provide."

She paused, letting her words sink in. “He swore to me, Eleanor, that you were nothing more than a means to an end. A convenient alliance, a stepping stone to power. He said… he said he barely noticed you existed."

Eleanor flinched, the words hitting her with a familiar sting. It was the confirmation she’d dreaded, the echo of her past pain. She looked at Julian, searching for a denial, a flicker of remorse. But his face was an impassive mask.

Annelise, sensing her victory, pressed her advantage. “He told me all about his plans, Duchess. How he would secure his position, repay his debts, and then… then he would be free to be with me. Free to be with the woman he truly loves.”

“Enough!” Julian’s voice cracked like a whip. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury. “You will not speak to my wife in this manner.”

Annelise laughed again, a desperate, hysterical sound. “Oh, Julian, don’t pretend. We both know the truth. You’re trapped, aren’t you? Trapped in a loveless marriage, all for the sake of appearances.”

Julian’s jaw tightened. He took Eleanor’s hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. He looked at her, his eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. Was it regret? Was it… shame?

“Lady Annelise,” he said, his voice cold and controlled. “I find your behavior tonight to be utterly reprehensible. You have not only insulted my wife, but you have also made a spectacle of yourself in front of the entire ton.”

He paused, drawing himself up to his full height. “I believed you to be a woman of grace and discretion. I was clearly mistaken. I must, therefore, insist that you leave Beaumont Manor immediately.”

Annelise gasped, her face contorting with rage. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I assure you, Lady Annelise,” Julian said, his voice unwavering. “I would. In fact, I insist. I will personally escort you to your carriage.”

He turned to Eleanor, his expression softening slightly. “If you’ll excuse us, Duchess.”

He led Annelise away, his hand firm on her arm. Eleanor watched them go, her mind reeling. Julian’s actions were… baffling. He had defended her, publicly humiliated Annelise, and essentially banished her from society. It was the opposite of what she had expected.

But was it genuine? Or was it merely a performance, a carefully orchestrated act designed to solidify his position, to lull her into a false sense of security?

As Julian returned, his face pale but composed, Eleanor couldn’t help but search his eyes for the answer. She was not getting married for love, and she knew he would be with Lady Annelise. Now he was saying those things? What a liar!

"Eleanor," Julian said softly, taking her hand again. "I apologize for that… unpleasantness. Lady Annelise has been… a persistent nuisance for some time."

"She spoke the truth, didn't she?" Eleanor said, her voice barely a whisper. "About your debts? About your… feelings for her?"

Julian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The situation is… complicated. My family has faced financial difficulties, that much is true. And I admit, there was a time when I… I was perhaps… misguided in my affections."

He met her gaze, his eyes pleading. "But that was then, Eleanor. Things are different now. I… I value you. I value our marriage. And I will not allow anyone, including Lady Annelise, to jeopardize it."

Eleanor stared at him, her heart pounding. She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe that he had changed, that he was capable of genuine affection. But the memories of her past life were a constant barrier, a wall of pain and distrust that she couldn't seem to break down.

"Why, Julian?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this? Why are you suddenly so… attentive? What do you want from me?"

Julian hesitated, his expression troubled. "I want… I want us to have a real marriage, Eleanor. A marriage built on respect, on understanding… perhaps even on… affection."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "I know I haven't been the husband you deserve. I know I've made mistakes. But I'm willing to change, Eleanor. I'm willing to prove to you that I can be a better man."

He paused, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Just give me a chance."

Eleanor looked at him, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Distrust, suspicion, confusion… and, despite herself, a flicker of something else. Something that felt dangerously like… hope.

She remembered the unsent letters she had burned, the desperate pleas for attention from a woman who no longer existed. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again? Could she risk opening her heart to a man who had once broken it so completely?

The answer, she knew, was not a simple one. It was a gamble, a leap of faith into the unknown. And the stakes, this time, were higher than ever before.

She wants to refuse completely, tell him to go ahead with Lady Annelise, but her heart stops her from saying so.

"I… I don't know, Julian," she said, her voice trembling. "I need time to think."

Julian nodded, his expression understanding. "Of course. I won't pressure you, Eleanor. But I hope… I hope you'll consider what I've said."

He squeezed her hand gently, then released it. He gave her a sad smile, a sad honest smile. Julian bowed slightly and walked away, leaving Eleanor standing alone in the alcove, surrounded by the glittering lights and the swirling music, feeling more lost and confused than ever before.

The echoes of Annelise’s words still rang in her ears, but now, they were competing with the quiet sincerity in Julian’s voice. The past was a heavy burden, but perhaps… just perhaps… the future held a different possibility. It was a terrifying prospect, and it was exciting at the same time. She will need to think this through to reach a decision. She has to.