by Olivia Drake
Her eyes softened with longing, even as her lips firmed with denial. “But I’d have to become an English duchess. Please try to understand. I love the country of my birth. I love that America was founded on freedom and equality. I don’t know if I could ever fit into your class system.”
He set his jaw. “Society will accept you. I’ll make certain they do.”
Smiling wistfully, she shook her head in gentle exasperation. “You have it all wrong, Hadrian. It isn’t whether English society will accept me. It’s whether I will accept English society.”
Chapter 24
Two weeks later, on the evening of the ball, Natalie sat at the mirrored table in her dressing room while Hetty pinned up her dark brown locks into a collection of lustrous curls. On the duchess’s urging, Natalie had spent the afternoon primping, starting with a decadently hot bath in a large copper tub, then drying her hair by the fire, applying scented lotions, and having her nails trimmed and buffed. She had thoroughly enjoyed all the pampering.
This could be her life forever, she thought with a pang. She distracted herself with the stern reminder that it was unfair for a few lucky women to live in the lap of luxury while others had to labor for a living.
She studied the maid’s placid features, guessing her to be in her mid-thirties. “Do you mind having to do all this work on my behalf?”
“Mind?” Hetty looked astonished at the question. “Why, never, miss! It’s a pleasure to serve a lady so lovely as yourself.”
“But surely you’ve wished that you could go to such a ball as this.”
The maid chortled. “Me dad’s a cobbler, and he’d hoot at such a notion! Nay, I’m blessed to be an upstairs maid in this grand house after starting as a lowly tweeny. Now, it’s time to don your gown.”
As Hetty helped her into the elegant creation, Natalie reflected that the maid seemed content with her life. Perhaps English commoners weren’t necessarily unhappy with the class system here. Though they’d never become nobles, they could still improve their situation through hard work as Hetty had done. In that sense, they were no different from the less fortunate in America.
“Lud, you’ll be the prettiest lady tonight. Come and see, miss. Won’t His Grace be pleased?”
Walking toward the mirror, Natalie bit her lip to stop a denial that the duke would have any particular interest in her appearance. It would be useless to prevaricate when the truth must be obvious to the entire household. Although no one knew of the intimate night that she and Hadrian had shared, he had appointed himself her devoted companion, escorting her and Leo to Astley’s Circus to see the performing horses, to the Tower to view the menagerie of wild animals, to the Thames for a boat ride. They had gone riding in Hyde Park, sometimes with Leo, though often just the two of them, early in the morning when they could enjoy an exhilarating gallop. Hadrian also had convinced her on several occasions to join his mother and a small party of guests for dinner in order for Natalie to meet select members of the ton so that she wouldn’t face a vast sea of strangers tonight.
He was courting her, she knew with a certainty that touched her heart. She had let herself be persuaded to put off a final decision about the marriage until after the ball. And he had made it clear that it was too risky for them to share a bed again without a betrothal. Pregnancy would compel her into wedlock, for neither would he abandon his child to bastardy.
Nevertheless, three days after their tryst, she’d mourned the onset of her courses. It made no sense, for she ought to have been thankful. Instead of making matters clearer, their assignation had only caused a bigger tangle of her thoughts and emotions. He had never spoken of love, and at times, she wondered if he kept the deepest part of himself hidden from her. There seemed to be an elusive missing piece in their relationship, something that made her hesitate to commit herself.
Yet there could be no doubt that he cared for her. Or that she craved him more than ever. Hadrian was everything a woman could want in a husband: considerate, witty, sincere, protective, exciting.
Alas, he was also an English duke.
How different things would be if he were a commoner. Then she could coax him to emigrate to America, where they could live happily ever after as husband and wife. But that was a foolish dream, for he would not be the same man. His high rank had created the circumstances that had shaped his character—inheriting the dukedom at age five, growing up under Lord Godwin’s harsh tutelage, being denied his mother’s love and companionship …
“Do you not approve, miss?”
She snapped out of her reverie to realize that Hetty stood waiting, looking a trifle anxious at her mistress’s lack of enthusiasm. Natalie quickly examined her reflection in the long pier glass.
She saw a fine lady arrayed in rich bronze silk with a gossamer netting overskirt and a low-cut bodice that revealed a shocking expanse of bosom. A gold band cinched the high waist, with matching ribbons on the cap sleeves. From her softly styled hair down to the toes of her gold slippers, she looked like a member of Hadrian’s world.
A quiver beset her. Tonight she would dance with him at her first London ball. Then tomorrow, he would press her for an answer to his offer of marriage. What would she say? There could be no denying that her attachment to him had deepened over the past weeks. The mere thought of parting from him forever wrenched her heart.
So she wouldn’t think about it just yet. She would set aside her decision until the morning and wring every drop of happiness out of the present.
Giddy with anticipation, she twirled around, her skirt shimmering in the candlelight. “You’ve done exceptionally well, Hetty. Thank you!”
The maid beamed with pride just as a knock sounded on the door. Two ladies swept into the bedchamber. Lizzy wore a deep indigo gown that brought out the blue in her eyes and helped to camouflage her pregnancy. Beside her, the Duchess of Clayton was stately in lilac satin, her throat adorned with pearls, a majestic pearl-and-diamond tiara nestled in her graying blond hair.
A smile beamed across her aging features. “What a vision of loveliness you are! My dear girl, you shall be the belle of the ball.”
“All eyes will be upon her,” Lizzy said. “The ball is in her honor, after all.”
Natalie shook her head in mock exasperation. “Pray don’t make me any more jittery than I already am.”
“I’ve just the thing to lend you confidence,” the duchess said. She was carrying a black enameled box and opened it to reveal several pieces of diamond jewelry lying in the blue velvet interior. “These were a bride gift to me from my father.”
Natalie gasped at the treasure trove. “Your Grace!” she exclaimed. “I couldn’t possibly borrow something so expensive!”
“Why ever not? These gems are meant for someone younger and prettier than an old matron like me. I haven’t worn them in years.”
“Do try them on,” Lizzy urged. “Besides, Hadrian suggested the jewels.”
Of course it was his idea, Natalie thought wryly as Hetty fastened the necklace. He wanted her to experience the life of a duchess. In short order, she also wore diamond earrings and a tiara that glimmered richly against her sable curls. Charmed, she reached up with kid-gloved fingers to touch the spiderweb of diamonds set in gold above her bosom. The pieces were delicate and elegant, providing the perfect complement to her bronze gown.
Lizzy clapped her hands. “You look positively gorgeous. Shall we go down now? I can’t wait to see the stunned look on my brother’s face.”
There it was again, the inference that Hadrian was besotted. Over the past few days, Lizzy and the duchess had dropped numerous hints that they’d be pleased by a match between Natalie and the duke. If only they knew, the mere thought of him stirred a bevy of butterflies within her.
The three of them left the bedchamber, and upon arriving at the grand staircase, Lizzy stopped Natalie. “Mama and I shall go down first,” she said, her china-blue eyes bright. “It’s proper precedent, you see.”
The duchess p
atted Natalie’s arm. “You may follow in a moment.”
She watched as the two ladies descended side by side. They had spent the past fortnight stuffing her head with countless archaic dictums of society. But it seemed a silly rule for her to be obliged to wait. After all, the guests had not yet arrived. Peeking over the balcony railing, she saw that the vast entrance hall stood empty except for a few footmen stationed by the front door. It was a letdown to realize that not even Hadrian was here.
Then he stepped into sight.
Her mouth went dry as he came forward to greet his mother and sister at the base of the stairs. Feeling a rush of untimely desire, Natalie pressed her palm to her racing heart. He looked every inch the sinfully handsome duke in formal black tailcoat and knee breeches, a diamond stickpin glinting in his snowy cravat. In the brilliance of the candles in the crystal chandelier, his brown hair gleamed with the richness of caramel.
Lizzy murmured something to him. Instantly, he shifted his gaze upward, straight at Natalie.
She curled her fingers around the gilded balustrade. His sister and mother had arranged this moment, she realized with a touch of wry humor. No wonder they had wanted to go down first. But she didn’t afford them even a glance. No one else mattered but Hadrian.
Drawn by his magnetic stare, she descended the curved staircase. She felt as if she were floating, buoyed by the admiration in his smoky-gray eyes. The slight smile that lifted one corner of his mouth made her think of lying in bed with him, bare flesh to bare flesh. The banked passion on his chiseled features hinted at his own wicked thoughts, especially when his gaze dipped to her close-fitting bodice.
When she reached the bottom step, the duke lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss. “You look ravishing, Natalie.”
So ravish me. Her arched eyebrow and sensual smile conveyed those silent words, while she said very properly, “You’re too kind, Your Grace.”
He bent to whisper in her ear, “Minx. Now is not the time to tempt me.”
His laughing undertone lent a sparkle to the evening as they gazed at each other. His fingers firm around hers, she felt bound to him by mutual desire and something else, something deep and vibrant that she had never felt with any other man.
As if similarly affected, Hadrian released a breath before looking at his mother. “It’s time. The carriages are already lined up on the square.”
The duchess came to join them, and at a signal from Hadrian, the footman opened the front door. A steady stream of guests began to flow into house, ladies in fine gowns and jewels escorted by gentlemen in well-tailored formal garb. Since she was not part of the receiving line, Lizzy disappeared into the crowd with her husband, the Marquess of Wrenbury, a quiet, fair-haired man who obviously adored his wife. Some people lingered in the entrance hall, while others headed upstairs toward the discordant sounds of the orchestra tuning their instruments in the ballroom.
Natalie’s flutter of nerves swiftly dissipated as she concentrated on matching faces with the names spoken by the duchess and Hadrian. Everyone, it seemed, was curious about their American guest, and the reactions were generally friendly, especially from the gentlemen. Since Hadrian and the duchess had quietly spread word prior to the ball, no one seemed offended that she offered her hand instead of curtsying to the peers and peeresses. Only a few ladies wore snooty stares, notably Lady Birdsall and her blond daughters, Lady Eugenie and Lady Cora, who had called on the day that Natalie had brought her grandfather here for the first time.
Despite her earlier apprehension, she felt remarkably relaxed amid the buzz of conversation and the pleasure of greeting new faces. The situation brought a nostalgic reminder of the parties she’d hosted with her father back when he’d served in the Senate. This ball might be much larger and grander, but it filled her with the same effervescence of excitement.
She smiled warmly on seeing her grandfather and cousin Giles. Sir Basil planted a kiss on the duchess’s cheek, much to her girlish delight, and then shook the duke’s hand. “I trust you’ve been treating my granddaughter with the respect she deserves, Clayton.”
“Always, sir.” Though his manner was perfectly respectful, Hadrian flicked a heated glance at Natalie that held the memory of their secret tryst.
She gave her grandfather a fond peck on his lined cheek. They’d become much better acquainted since he was in the habit of calling frequently at Clayton House. “I’m thrilled that you and Giles could be here.”
“Doris wasn’t happy to be left at home,” Giles admitted, mentioning his sister. “But sixteen is too young to fend off gentlemen, and I told her she’ll have to wait until at least next year … er, that is, if you’re still here and, er, haven’t gone back to America.”
Her cousin stammered to a stop. With a pang, she knew her family still hoped she’d marry Hadrian and provide them a path back into society. She squeezed Giles’s hand. “Please tell Doris I shall come to call on her soon.”
As her relatives moved on, the crowds began to thin. Among the last to arrive were Lord and Lady Godwin, Lord Wymark, and Lady Ellen. The earl and countess offered stiff smiles and cool greetings. Lady Godwin scarcely acknowledged Natalie, seeming to look straight through her, unlike her livelier daughter, who appeared angelic in a blush-pink gown.
“How pretty you look, Miss Fanshawe!” Lady Ellen burbled. “Do you know, four gentlemen called today, begging to reserve the first dance with me? But I have promised it to Mr. Runyon, for he wrote me the loveliest poem!”
Her sapphire eyes bright, she appeared about to confide more, but Lady Godwin drew her away with a sharp word. Nevertheless, Natalie found it a pleasure to see the girl enjoying her first season and suffering no belated regrets over losing the duke as a suitor.
Bringing up the rear, Wymark bowed over Natalie’s hand. He looked the quintessential English gentleman with his wheat-gold hair and finely tailored garb. “I see you’ve escaped the schoolroom again, Miss Fanshawe. I hope you haven’t left my little orphaned nephew all alone.”
“Leo has a nursemaid to watch over him, of course.”
“Ah, I see.”
As he gave her another veiled stare and then strolled off, Natalie felt her skin prickle. Wymark seemed to exude an edgy tension tonight that left her with a vague uneasiness. She shook off the sensation. Perhaps as a gambler, he was merely eager to join the card players in the drawing room.
After a few more stragglers were admitted, the duke offered one arm to his mother and the other to Natalie. “Thank God that ordeal is over at last,” he said, chuckling. “Shall we go and join the festivities?”
With her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow and the lilt of music in the air, Natalie felt giddy with happiness. Once upstairs, they strolled along a wide corridor and through an arched doorway. The majordomo announced their entry, but she scarcely noticed the eyes that turned her way. She was too busy admiring the fairy-tale décor of the ballroom.
Although she’d peeked in earlier while the workers were setting up, the finished scene stole her breath away. Three immense chandeliers blazed with beeswax candles, casting golden light upon the shifting sea of elegant guests. Along the walls, swags of white silk provided a backdrop for masses of daffodils and irises and pink roses, creating the illusion of a spring garden. At one end, an elevated gallery held the string quartet of musicians, while at the other, a wall of glass doors opened onto a spacious balcony.
Hadrian snagged three flutes from one of the footmen circulating with silver trays, handing one to his mother and one to Natalie. “Champagne, ladies. If you’ll excuse me now, there are some people I must see, but I’ll return to claim you for the first dance, Natalie.”
His eyes caressed her before he disappeared into the crowd, and the duchess patted her hand. “The first dance? That’s a high honor, my dear. Tonight will establish you quite firmly in society.”
Natalie smiled, though pleasure warred with caution. Did she want to be a part of this glittering life forever? There was no time to
ponder as a stately couple approached the duchess. Natalie soon found herself surrounded by gentlemen and ladies who were curious about life in America, in particular, the frontier. Determining their interest was genuine, she related amusing stories of her encounters with beavers and porcupines, leaving out the massacre that had necessitated her journey to England with Leo.
Hadrian soon plucked her from the crowd of admirers and led her onto the dance floor where two long lines were forming, gentlemen on one side and ladies on the other. Natalie was glad for the dancing master the duchess had engaged this past week, for there were slight differences in the steps she’d known in America, where techniques were not quite so strict.
As the music began, the formal movements provided little opportunity for conversation. But as Hadrian gazed at her, the slight smile on his lips made her heartbeat accelerate. As well, her insides melted at the intensity in his eyes, and by the time the dance ended, she had to concentrate in order not to wobble on molten knees.
He placed his hand at the small of her back. “I dislike having to give you off to other partners, but I must do my duty to half the women present. I hope you’ll reserve the waltz for me just before supper.”
“Two dances, Your Grace? I hear that’s scandalous behavior for London society.”
His expression showed a stirring possessiveness. “If people wish to interpret it as a declaration of my interest in you, then so be it. Now, allow me to introduce you to a good friend of mine who’s been anxious to meet you.”
He escorted her to a rangy man with a calm smile, who secured her hand for the next dance. Mr. Gerald Remington was a member of the House of Commons, and on learning her father had been a senator, engaged her in an animated discussion of the workings of the United States government.
As the quadrille drew to a close, she said, “I’m surprised that people here are friendly to me when our two nations were so recently at war.”
