he ballroom glittered under the glow of countless chandeliers, the hum of conversation mingling with the strains of a lively waltz. Ladies in jewel-toned gowns twirled on the dance floor, their partners guiding them with practiced ease. But amid the splendor, a scandalous whisper circulated the room, carried on the lips of the ton.

Will stood at the edge of the room, a glass of champagne in hand, his keen eyes scanning the crowd. Earlier that evening, a fresh edition of the scandal sheet had made its rounds, and it had featured him prominently.

He retrieved the crumpled paper from his pocket, smoothing it out to reread the bold headline:

"The Arrogant Rake of the Ton: The Duke of Ashford Exposed!"

Will chuckled to himself, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He scanned the article, the words dripping with sarcasm and biting humor, describing his antics and painting him as an incorrigible flirt with no regard for propriety.

"Arrogant rake, am I?" he muttered under his breath, his tone light but his eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and intrigue. Whoever penned these words had a sharp mind and a keen eye, seeing through his carefully crafted facade.

His musings were interrupted when his gaze landed on a young woman standing alone by the refreshment table, her expression one of quiet amusement as she watched the dancers. He recognized her immediately: Lady Evelyn Somerset, the so-called "season's diamond."

Intrigued, Will made his way toward her, weaving through the throng with practiced ease. As he approached, he slipped the scandal sheet back into his pocket, deciding to push aside thoughts of the article for now.

"Lady Evelyn," he greeted, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I must say, your choice of company this evening is rather... unconventional."