Reborn: The Duke's Obsession

The weekend arrived far too quickly, much to Anne’s deep and bitter disappointment. The formal meeting for the matching between the two individuals had been arranged in a private parlor at The Grand Albion inn, a neutral territory of hushed elegance where such delicate family matters were often negotiated. The room was luxurious, with heavy velvet curtains blocking out the common street, ornate mahogany furniture, and a silver tea service gleaming on a low table. Viscountess Penelope, the wife of Late Viscount Elliot, smiling with politeness, was the first to speak. "Baroness Augusta," she said, her voice smooth, "I must congratulate you. I heard you are soon to be in-laws with the great Carson family."

Augusta, seated elegantly on a plush settee, replied with a pretend smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "Yes, Viscountess Penelope. It seems fate worked out that way."

"A brilliant match, I’m sure. Congratulations," Penelope said, though a flicker of envy was visible in her eyes. Her gaze then shifted to her own son, Weston, the new Viscount.

Weston, a handsome young man with an air of bored arrogance, looked at Anne. "It has been a long time, Anne," he said, attempting a friendly tone. " The last time we met was before your father’s illness. How is he now?"

Anne, who sat beside her mother, ignored his question and gave him a slow, nonchalant look, her expression utterly dismissive. She and Weston had known each other since they were children, back when their fathers, both serving in the royal court, would often meet.

It was then that Viscountess Penelope’s gaze traveled over Anne’s attire, and her polite smile tightened into a disapproving frown. Anne’s dress, a deep crimson silk, was far too vibrant and showy for a daytime meeting. The neckline was cut in a daring square that showed more of her collarbone and cleavage than was considered proper, and the sleeves were only three-quarter length, revealing her wrists and forearms and no gloves on. It was a scandalous choice for a young, unmarried lady.

"Your style has certainly become more... daring, my dear," Penelope remarked, her tone frosty.

Augusta looked at her daughter, a silent warning in her eyes. "Anne, say hello to the Viscountess."