by Leah Conolly
The carriage slowed and then stopped in front of a large house on one of the most fashionable streets in London. A servant opened the carriage door, and James shivered as the cold rain fell on his cheeks. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a butler who took his coat and hat. He was shown into the drawing room, where a woman with long blonde hair was sitting by the window with what looked like complicated needlework in her lap.
“The Duke of Darrington, my lady,” announced the butler.
Isabelle Kinsley stood, putting aside her work, and greeted him with innocent blue eyes and a charming smile. “James,” she said, “it is so fortunate that you are here.”
James hid a smile at her words. One of the reasons he enjoyed Isabelle’s company so much was because her worries seemed so trivial, and they took his mind off his own burdensome troubles.
“I am here at this time every week,” James reminded her.
“Yes,” she admitted, taking a seat at a small table, “but there have been some developments since I extended the invitation.” She turned to the butler and ordered that tea be brought in. James sat across from her.
“Indeed? What has befallen you this time, Isabelle?”
She let out an overly exaggerated sigh. “It is the matter of my goddaughter. Her father, Edward, has written and asked that she come and stay with me! I could hardly refuse. The poor Earl of Waymouth has hardly known what to do with Elizabeth since his wife died.”
James felt as if something had struck him through the heart. Isabelle’s mouth dropped open, as if she had only just realized what impact those words would have on James. “Elizabeth is rather wild, I’m afraid,” she said, quickly. “She has always been very...spirited.”
James again felt his lips twitching of their own accord. No doubt, Isabelle was trying to say that her goddaughter was very far from being an accomplished young woman as politely as possible.
“She has had no success at all in securing a marriage, so her father has asked me if I will teach her how to behave properly in society.” She sighed again. “It is impossible, James! The last time I saw the girl, she did not even use the correct utensils at dinner. Her hair was a disaster, and she insulted the man she was sitting next to.”
James hummed in thought, as the tea was brought in and set before them. “How old is she?”
“Eighteen. Her father tells me she has not really grown up at all since I saw her when she was fourteen.”
James frowned. It wasn’t appropriate for a young woman so grown to act in such a manner. “It was good of you to agree to take charge of her.”
Isabelle’s eyebrows furrowed together in worry. “She really is a good sort of girl, underneath it all. She just needs some refining.” She met his eyes. “I need your help, James. I am looking to hire someone to help with Elizabeth, a companion who will stay here so that I will not have to handle this all by myself.”
James frowned. He tried to think of someone he could recommend, but he had so few acquaintances, and even fewer of those were women. “I cannot think of anyone at the moment.” After a second of thought, he realized that he did know one person, though she was long gone. “If only Braith were here.”
Isabelle’s eyes saddened. Her expression drooped, and the worry drained from her face. “My dear friend,” she murmured. “She would have been the perfect person to help.” She looked out the window and shook her head. “I always think of her on rainy days.”
“I do, too,” James said quietly, his thoughts drifting back into melancholy. He sat still for a moment, lost in thought, thinking about how much the world was still mourning Braith even after five years.
“When does your goddaughter arrive?” James eventually asked. He took a sip of tea and relished the comforting taste.
“In one week. I have had a room readied for her use.” Her teacup clattered, as she set it down on its saucer. “I am so very nervous.”
James smiled at her. “If anyone can help her, Isabelle, it is you.”
Isabelle smiled in return. “Thank you, James. Edward told me the same thing when he wrote with his request, but it is so hard to consider reforming this child that everyone else has failed to tame.”
James relaxed, as the conversation turned to lighter subjects. He found himself drinking several cups of tea and realized that he was more troubled than he had thought. Eventually, he stood and said his goodbyes.
“I wish you the very best of luck, Isabelle,” he said with heartfelt sincerity. “I will endeavor to find you the best help in all of London.”
“Oh, thank you, James! And you will join us for dinner on the day Elizabeth arrives, will you not?”
James hesitated, then decided that, at the very least, it might be amusing to watch this wild girl. “Of course, I will.”
Isabelle’s expression was full of gratitude. “You are an invaluable friend, James.”
“As are you, Isabelle.” He bowed and left her, somehow feeling even more lonely than when he arrived.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth couldn’t tear her gaze from the view outside the carriage. The streets were crowded with people taking advantage of a rare sunny day. Tall, stately buildings loomed around every corner; many more than Elizabeth had ever seen in one town. She had never been to London, or anywhere this far away from home. It looked so crowded, noisy, and foreign. In that moment, she missed home more than ever.
The carriage brought her to a busy street lined with grand houses. Elizabeth did not doubt that this was where the very wealthiest people lived. She looked down at herself and noted that her dress was wrinkled from the long journey. She ran her hand through her hair, knowing that it would be knotted and unkempt. She allowed herself a small smile. Let us see what Lady Kinsley thinks about that!
She stepped down from the carriage, and the servants began to retrieve her belongings. The door of the house opened to reveal Lady Kinsley, though she seemed a good deal older and shorter than Elizabeth remembered her.
“My dear Elizabeth!” she said, smiling broadly. “How you have grown!” Her eyes flicked over Elizabeth’s form, and a hint of panic tinged her expression.
Elizabeth fought a smug smile. “Lady Kinsley! What a delight it is to see you. It was very kind of you to allow me to live here, though I am sure you had about as much choice in it as I did.”
Mrs. Kinsley opened her mouth, but nothing came out, as though she was trying to determine what to say. “I was more than happy to have you,” she eventually said, her smile a little more forced. “I have hardly been able to spend any time with you since you were a child. It will be an opportunity for us to become acquainted again. Please come in,” she added.
Elizabeth followed Lady Kinsley into the house. A young gentleman was waiting just inside, his refined clothing boasting a distinguished status. His brown eyes locked onto Elizabeth as if judging her entire character from a mere look. She could tell that he disapproved, though he hadn’t even seen her hair or her dress yet.
“Lady Elizabeth Gladstone, may I introduce my good friend, the Duke of Darrington.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. Had her father not told Isabelle what happened the last time she had met a duke? Still, Elizabeth curtseyed politely. She would decide on this duke’s character for herself.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
The duke bowed his head. “I have heard much about you, Miss Gladstone. Mrs. Kinsley speaks very highly of you.”
Does she really? Elizabeth wondered. Either Mrs. Kinsley had lied, or the duke was trying very hard to be polite.
In the beat of silence that followed, Elizabeth saw the duke’s gaze focus on her overall disheveled appearance. A frown twitched at his lips. Mrs. Kinsley must have also noticed where his eyes were, because she quickly said, “Elizabeth, you may go up to your room and prepare for dinner. Mr. Campbell will show you the way.” The words were polite, but the look in her eyes was a warning. Evidently, Elizabeth thought, this was lesson nu
mber one.
Elizabeth used the same tactic, her tone polite but her eyes conveying defiance. “Of course, Mrs. Kinsley.” She would show her godmother that she would not be “tamed.” She was Elizabeth, and no one could turn her into something she was not.
Elizabeth allowed Mr. Campbell to show her up a flight of stairs and into a spacious bedroom. Elizabeth stopped short in the doorway, sincerely struck for a moment at how much effort Mrs. Kinsley must have put into making this room Elizabeth’s new home. She realized that it really must be intimidating to invite a girl with a bad reputation whom you barely know into your home and agree to teach her, with little help. Mrs. Kinsley was, essentially, treating Elizabeth like a daughter. In a rare moment of empathy, Elizabeth was humbled.
The moment passed, as she watched a maid laying out her clothes. The maid looked up as Elizabeth entered the room, then quickly turned and curtseyed.
Mr. Campbell spoke from behind her. “This is Marie, my lady. She will be your maid while you are here with us. Do you think you are quite settled, my lady?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you.”
Mr. Campbell left, closing the door behind him. Elizabeth looked over the dresses she had brought, most of them at her father’s insistence. He had bought her a whole new wardrobe in preparation for going to London. She found an evening gown that she liked, deciding that she at least owed it to Mrs. Kinsley to change into a different dress.
“I will wear this one tonight,” she said, pointing to the elegant green gown.
“Yes, my lady,” Marie said, beginning to unlace Elizabeth. Once she had changed into the new gown, she looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. It really was too ostentatious.
“What would you like done with your hair, Lady Elizabeth?”
Her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess, hanging loosely in waves all the way down her back. Though she might have changed into a different dress, she would retain something of herself.
“My hair will remain as it is, thank you, Marie.”
Elizabeth watched the maid’s shocked expression with glee, barely managing to hold back laughter. The poor girl looked utterly mortified, her eyes wide, her lips tightly compressed. After a moment, she managed to say, “Very well, my lady.”
Elizabeth took one last look at herself and decided that her appearance was unladylike enough to be noticed. She made her way downstairs and was soon seated at the dinner table with the Duke of Darrington and Lady Kinsley. Their eyes remained glued to her, apparently unable to look at anything else. Elizabeth decided to act as if she had no idea what they were looking at. But internally, she was having the best of times exceeding all of their expectations about how terrible she was.
Just to show Lady Kinsley—and the duke for that matter—how much she intended to retain her “wild” manner, she decided to have a little more fun at their expense. As she picked up the small fork for intended for the first course, she decided she would use it for every course throughout dinner. She remembered doing something similar the last time she had eaten with Lady Kinsley years ago.
Everyone was silent, as they began eating. The food was rich and tasty, unlike anything Elizabeth had had in years since her father had begun economizing. She forgot about her devious plan for a moment and savored the food.
“Elizabeth,” Mrs. Kinsley began, as if she couldn’t stand the silence, “I trust you left your father in good health?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “My father is doing very well. I only worry about what he will do when he is on his own without me.”
“Rest, I imagine,” said the duke, with a hint of a smile. “I have a son of my own, and, though he is everything to me, I must admit that being the constant guardian of a child can be rather draining.”
Elizabeth admitted to herself that he was probably right. It was most likely a relief to her father that she was gone.
“You give so much attention to little Oscar,” Lady Kinsley told the duke. “You are a good father to him.”
“I do try,” he said, sincerely. “I feel I must make up for the lack of another parent.”
Elizabeth paused and tried to discern the duke’s expression. He looked up after a moment and met her eyes.
“Forgive me, Miss Gladstone. My wife was taken by the smallpox five years ago and, though I do my best with Oscar and the nurse helps tremendously, I fear what he will lack, growing up without a mother.”
Elizabeth felt real sympathy for him, not only because of his words but also the look in his eyes that accompanied them. She could see the true depth of his sorrow. He had not married for wealth, money, or status. It was evident that he had loved his wife deeply.
“I am sorry,” Elizabeth said, softly, casting her eyes down.
“Thank you. I am fortunate, however, that I have a mother who loves Oscar as though he is her own.”
As the next course was served, Lady Kinsley commented, “Dear Mrs. Wordsworth! How is your mother?”
The duke smiled. “She is very well.” He seemed as though he was going to add more, but his attention was suddenly caught by something, and he looked at Elizabeth. As his forehead wrinkled in confusion, Elizabeth knew he had just realized that she was using the same fork from the first course.
As Lady Kinsley registered the sudden silence, she met Elizabeth’s gaze, and her eyes widened. She stiffened, conveying by example that Elizabeth should sit up and maintain good posture. Elizabeth slouched even further. Lady Kinsley deliberately picked up the correct fork and took a bite with it, but Elizabeth simply continued eating with the smaller fork from the first course.
Mrs. Kinsley shook her head and turned her gaze back to the duke. “James, I have not seen you at any balls of late. Please say that you will come to this one. It will be Elizabeth’s first in London!”
Elizabeth only just refrained from rolling her eyes at the mention of a ball. She was sure it would be grander than any ball she had ever attended, and she would be forced to make herself look like a peacock in order to blend in with fashionable society.
If Lady Kinsley intended to draw James’ attention away from Elizabeth, it worked. He continued eating, then replied, “I have not decided. I have no interest in attending balls.”
“Have you not told me that you wish for more friends? A ball would be an excellent place to meet them!”
“I find it difficult to believe that you have few friends, my lord,” Elizabeth commented.
“It is true. Lady Kinsley is the dearest friend I have. Ever since my wife passed, I have found it difficult to make new acquaintances.”
“It would be quite easy for you to make friends,” Elizabeth said. “Introduce yourself as a duke, and they are bound to follow you wherever you go.”
Mrs. Kinsley’s fork clattered on her plate, and she shot Elizabeth a dangerous look.
The subject of the ball was dropped, as the next course arrived. Lady Kinsley picked up the correct fork, holding Elizabeth’s eyes. Elizabeth kept the same fork in her hand and bent over her food even further.
There was no further conversation. The duke and Lady Kinsley were silent. Elizabeth smiled to herself, as she continued to eat, not caring what they thought of her. She wondered if Lady Kinsley would continue to honor her invitation after this, or simply send her back to her father. Elizabeth felt triumphant. Even here in London in this fine house, she had retained her freedom. They were trying their best to keep her confined, but she would not remain caged.
In the midst of her reverie, Elizabeth realized the room was much too quiet. She looked up and saw that the duke and Mrs. Kinsley were, without pretense, simply staring at her, their plates abandoned. Elizabeth met both sets of eyes and knew that they were appalled and awed at her poor manners.
Dinner ended with no more conversation, and without Lady Kinsley trying to give Elizabeth any further subtle hints. Elizabeth knew she had conveyed her message. She was not going to let them entrap her.
The duke left soon after dinner, but his f
arewell to Elizabeth was cold. He spoke privately with Lady Kinsley before he left, and Elizabeth felt sure they were discussing her. After he was gone, Mrs. Kinsley turned to Elizabeth, her expression betraying that she had no idea what to do with her.
“Elizabeth,” she began sadly, then paused. “You must please try.”
“Father has sent me here so that I will change,” Elizabeth replied, defiantly. “But I will not change. You cannot make me. I do not wish to injure your feelings, Lady Kinsley. You have been very kind to me, but I will show my father that I am not a lady who can be auctioned off to the closest man with lots of money so that it will save his estate. I will remain who I am.” And with that, Elizabeth retired to her room.
