Extraordinary Tales of Regency Love: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Fanny Finch

  Everything was bright and colorful. Every mouthful of the food tasted divine. Every scent transported her to a happy place. Every sound was just perfect. She felt grateful for everything she experienced, for her entire life, for the opportunities that lay ahead.

  She had trampled her worries into the background of her mind and was finally able to ignore them again.

  But they were still there, lurking in the shadows like the monsters of her childhood nightmares. They were still looming, still peering out, still whispering at her whenever she was unable to drown them out with her other senses.

  So she drowned them out. Eating and talking were especially great ways of silencing those voices of doubt, as was a walk in the garden.

  After lunch, Agnes did precisely that, walking to the bottom of the garden with Georgia. Agnes sat on the bench as Georgia sat on her swing, wriggling on the seat so that the entire structure wobbled and swayed a little.

  They spoke of the ball, and Agnes, who had brought a pen and paper with herself to make plans, decided to make it into a fun game, to keep talking so that she did not have to listen to herself think.

  Agnes began to make a list with Georgia, asking the girl what she wanted for the ball. Predictably, it was hardly attainable, even for a duke. Unicorns and fairies. Princesses... real ones... like the ones in fairy tales. A literal mountain of cakes. That was perhaps possible in a sense. Tigers.

  Every single thing the child mentioned, Agnes put down in one list. As the girl spoke, Agnes carefully considered the second list, on the other side of the page, for the actual ball. It would have been much quicker and easier to compile the list without Georgia's input.

  But Agnes enjoyed the process, and not everything the girl said was completely pointless. As she spoke, ideas came into Agnes's mind. Before long she had a list of colors and themes to suit them all. She knew that the cake mountain could become a tiered cake for the guests, not unlike a wedding cake, but perhaps brighter in color. Although there could not be tigers, Agnes liked the color theme of orange and black and felt that it would be lovely to ask guests to come with accents of orange and black in their clothes.

  They sat at the bottom of the garden until the sun began to set and it was almost time for dinner. Agnes had completed her list, and Georgia had managed to not get too dirty playing on the swing and investigating the flower bed.

  After the girl had been roughly wiped down with a damp towel and changed her dress, it was time to go in search of the duke with their all-important list in hand. Agnes was excited, but she knew she was not anywhere near as excited as Georgia.

  When they found him at the dinner table and handed him the list, Agnes saw him suppress a laugh as he noticed Georgia's list beside Agnes's. The smile never left his face as he continued reading through the page. Georgia bounced on her toes slightly, impatient to demand that her brother tell her what he thought of her list. Secretly, Agnes felt the same impatience.

  He seemed pleased as he read through it, nodding and smiling at his little sister especially. Finally, he put the sheet down. "Very well, I do believe we have some excellent plans for a ball," he said. "Now, I cannot promise that we shall have everything on the list. After all, unicorns are not native to England. But we shall see what can be done and get as close to your plans as possible."

  Georgia rushed over to her brother, letting out a squeal of delight, and hugged his leg. He reached down and stroked his little sister's hair before encouraging her to go to her seat, ready for dinner to begin.

  Agnes also felt a little spike of joy. Her father had discouraged social events, at home or elsewhere. They would have got in the way of her studies, allegedly. More likely, they would have meant meeting relatives when her father could not control them, or running into people who wanted to spread rumors about Agnes's mother.

  Even once she was older and had friends, her father had insisted that balls would be a waste of time, and for so many years she had believed him. She had no reason to believe him, but she loved and trusted her father, so she had no reason not to believe him either.

  Her first ball.

  This would be a unique opportunity to mingle with other people, and to see a ball first-hand, rather than through the eyes or, better said, words of another person. She would be able to see if it was true how busy they got, to watch the drama unfold and young men and women falling in love, all from the safety of her position nearer the walls.

  As a simple governess, she would not be called out to dance with anyone, but as a high-ranking servant, she would be allowed to watch and to an extent participate. It was perfect. She could learn so much from this and, if she enjoyed it, perhaps they could go on to throw many more balls in the future.

  Chapter 26

  "There are so many supplies we need!" the duke exclaimed, more to himself than to anyone else. He was truly becoming obsessed with the prospect of the ball, and this had only got worse since he saw Agnes's plans. He had spent the past two or three days muttering to himself about what he would need, and now that a date had finally been set and invitations had been sent, he was getting excited, of all things, about food supplies.

  Agnes simply nodded. "Yes, sir. You should probably pass the list to the housekeeper so that she can arrange for some servants to go into town and bring the supplies in time for the ball."

  "No, I wish to go. We must go to town and order everything in advance," he carried on, all but ignoring Agnes's complaints. "It will take forever to arrive, and I cannot imagine being humiliated."

  "Your Grace, you shall not be humiliated. Simply allow your servants to handle it. It is what they are there for." She felt as though she was talking to a brick wall, as he continued ignoring her and went out into the hallway, looking for someone to send for his carriage.

  "I want to," he replied. "I want to go and to see what there is myself and to make my own choices. It must be absolutely perfect. It is the first ball I shall hold and I must make the best of impressions."

  "That is not for a duke to do, Your Grace," she insisted. "Our- Your Grace's place is to remain here and send others to complete such humble tasks. It's not becoming to carry them out oneself."

  "But we are going into town anyway. We may as well look at what is on offer and put in orders for the ball," he said, wearing an expression like a child who had been told it could not have a puppy.

  This was the first Agnes had heard of any plans to go into town. She could not say that it was absolutely certain there had been no plans from the start, but she did not believe there were, and if they had been mentioned to her, she had forgotten. More likely was that the duke had simply decided that morning.

  But she did need a new dress after Georgia ruined one of her spares by spilling ink on the skirts. And she would appreciate a nice walk and a bit of window shopping. She nodded. "Very well, sir. I shall get dressed and get the child dressed ready to go out."

  Georgia, who had been listening in, all but skipped up to Agnes's extended hand, thrilled to be going to town. As they made their way upstairs, Agnes had to admit that she too was feeling rather pleased with the prospect. She carefully selected a nice dress for herself as well as one that was beautifully over the top for Georgia.

  It had been a while since she left the mansion grounds, Agnes realized as she brushed a little dust from the shoulders of her dress. She had explored the gardens, but she had not gone much further since she arrived. To church, which was barely down the hill from where they were. A little up the hill, to their nearest post box. And, if she was perfectly honest, she had barely noticed. She had not even considered heading out until the duke had mentioned it.

  It was probably a reflection of her upbringing, but she was quite happy to remain indoors much of the day and to not stray from the grounds the rest of the time. She felt no desperate need to go any further, to explore, to see new things or be among people. She knew that staying home and studying and busying herself with books and music were more than enough to satisfy her.
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  Finishing getting dressed and adjusting her bonnet, it struck her how plain she looked. How absolutely average. This was one of her nicest walking suits, yes. But it was also so bare. Normally she would have adorned herself with jewelry and scarves, brighter gloves, perhaps a parasol or an umbrella. Something to add a little life to her dull outfit.

  She still possessed such things, of course. They lived at the bottom of her wardrobe, in a small case, and never came out anymore. She could decorate herself and look a bit less plain.

  But that was how she was supposed to look. Even compared to Georgia, she was plain, bare, dressed as modestly and demurely as a peasant, or a widowed lady. But that was only proper. That was what a governess had to look like.

  And Agnes did not mind that. She enjoyed it, in many ways. She enjoyed knowing that she was living according to her new station. She enjoyed knowing that men would not look upon her with lust, nor women with envy. She enjoyed knowing that few people, if any, would recognize her dressed like that.

  It was a complete and utter relief to no longer be a member of the nobility, burdened with all that they carried. For the first time in her life, she felt free.

  The town was a breath of fresh air in her heart. There was something about life where, if she did not experience new places, sights, and sounds, her heart grew weary and her mind hazy and heavy. And yet she never made any effort to wander. It made no sense to her, but both were important aspects of her nature.

  She needed novelty, sunlight, and people to feel truly comfortable in her own skin. And yet she avoided all three unless she was all but forced to leave the house. It was not right. It was like not eating when one was hungry, or not bathing when one was dirty. She had to take better care of herself, and that included tending to her spiritual needs. One of which seemed to be a need to socialize.

  In the tailor's shop, her happiness faded to anxiety. Agnes wanted only to find herself a new, simple dress. But with the duke looming, she felt nervous. She understood that he was within his rights to follow her, and as the tailor and seamstress both operated out of the same small shop she could not accuse him of entering a store where he had no business being.

  Leafing through the sewing patterns book, she carefully selected a modestly priced dress, in a darker color, should staining occur again. The duke looked it over out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to inspect some cufflinks the tailor kept by the till.

  Agnes looked up at him, making sure to lock eyes with him so he knew he had been caught watching her.

  "I would like for you to attend the ball," he said flatly. "Do you have an appropriate dress for it?"

  "I was thinking I would simply watch from the sidelines, sir," she replied. "My usual attire shall be more than enough."

  "Nonsense, you are sure to miss being a part of high society," he replied. "I would like for you to dress up and truly enjoy the experience."

  Agnes shook her head. "Sir, I am a simple governess now. It would be most pretentious of me to attempt to fit in at a high society ball. It is far better if I look like the person I am."

  "Then I command you, as your employer, to wear a fine dress and assist me in managing the ball," he said, smiling. "I shall need help, and you deserve to experience such a thing at least once in your life."

  Agnes knew it was not right. But it was also not right to refuse her employer, a duke, his wishes. The seamstress, who had been left at the till to assist Agnes in selecting a dress as the tailor ran to bring some cufflinks and silks to show the duke, seemed a little surprised.

  As the duke wandered over to inspect a gleaming pink dress on display, the seamstress leaned in. "How fortunate you are!" she exclaimed in an oddly loud whisper. "It is not every day that a duke is so kind to his staff."

  Agnes nodded. "His Grace is a very generous man."

  "Agnes," the duke said from where he stood, without turning around. "I like this dress. Come here."

  Nervously, she walked over. He took the sash from the waist of the dress and, with a swift, fluid motion, draped it over her shoulders without so much as brushing her clothes, and then stepped back for a moment. He paused, looked her up and down, and, taking the dress from the form, held it out before him, so that it covered her, as though she were wearing it. He shoved it into her hands and, unsure what to do, she seized it and held it exactly where he had left it.

  "That is a lovely color on you," he remarked, a glimmer in his eyes as she held the dress against herself. "Go and get measured, we shall have it tailored this afternoon, as we complete our shopping."

  Agnes felt a panic in her chest. "Sir, that is not necessary, I-"

  "You shall wear what I ask of you so that you make a good impression of my household," he replied. "I need you to look your very best, especially if you shall be assisting me. And I want you in this dress, in this color."

  Although she knew he was right, and that she had to look excellent so as to make a good impression on the guests, Agnes felt bad about the expense her duke was about to incur on her behalf. It was too much. Surely something more modest, more humble, less intricate would be fine?

  "Perhaps, sir, a less elaborate dress would be more befitting to my station?" she asked.

  "Not at all. I need you to look above your current station. After all, what sort of a duke asks a governess to assist in arranging a ball? If the guests realized you were such a simple servant, they would surely mock me," he explained.

  "But it is so expensive, sir!" she replied. "I cannot accept such an excessive gift, especially not for a single night."

  "Did you ever worry about how much your dresses cost when you were the daughter of an earl?" the duke asked her, carrying the dress over to the counter and laying it down. "I should like her to be fitted for this one, and for the simple black one she wants as well. I shall cover the cost of both and there will be a generous tip if you have them finished by the end of the day today."

  The seamstress's eyes lit up. Her sales profit would be increasing massively all of a sudden, and she curtsied so deeply that Agnes was afraid she was going to fall over.

  As the seamstress took the dresses to the back room, Agnes decided to put up a little more of a fight.

  "Sir, it was different when I was the daughter of an earl," she said. "I am sure that you can understand why."

  "Not at all," he replied. "You were still taking money from a wealthy man and spending it on your own clothing. What does it matter if he was an earl and your father and I am a duke and your employer? You did not earn it either way. If you could happily spend then, then you can happily spend now."

  Agnes knew he would not understand. He could not. He had never had to be in her position. It was not about taking money from a duke or taking money she had not earned. She knew that at times people would make a generous gift to a young lady and it was the appropriate thing to accept it. But before, she could afford such items on her own. She could buy her own dresses, so there was no pain and no shame in accepting one as a gift.

  But now she could scarcely afford her plain black dress, on her salary. There was no way she could have even imagined buying the pink dress without the duke's support. And to accept such a gift when she was so unable to provide for herself was utterly humiliating.

  "I suppose I shall never be able to explain this to you, sir," she said, having thought it through and reached no possible conclusion. "Unless you, Heaven forbid, fall as far as I have, you will not understand."

  "I suppose not," he replied.

  "But sir, why are you so determined to purchase me that exact dress?" she asked. "It is easily the most expensive in the shop."

  "I wish to give you a little of what you used to have. It is the least I can do to repay your hard work and kindness," he explained.

  Agnes sighed and smiled meekly. "Sir, you have been a thousand times kinder to me."

  "And yet I still want to look after you, and thank you for all the good you are doing myself and my little sister," he explained, rest
ing a hand gently on her shoulder. "You deserve to be happy so long as you are here."

  "So long as I am here?" she asked.

  He nodded. "Yes, so long as you are."

  The meaning of his words and the sadness in his eyes hit her so hard that she lost her breath for a second and did not know what to reply.

  As the seamstress re-entered the shop, his hand withdrew so fast that one could have thought Agnes's shoulder was made of fire.

  Chapter 27

  He did not intend for her to always be by his side? This shocked her. He was freeing her?

  Of course, she had never been a prisoner. But she had always assumed that if she wanted to leave she would have to fight tooth and claw to do so. And he had never given her any indication to the contrary. In fact, he had directly said the complete opposite.