by Leah Conolly
James nodded. “It is very good that she has a friend. It is important, I believe, for a young lady to have a confidant.”
“She is upstairs getting ready as we speak,” Isabelle said. “I always like to have tea before a ball. It settles my stomach before the rich food and the dancing. Thank you, James, for joining us.”
“It is a pleasure, as always.” He smiled. “I do not know what I would do if a week passed by without having tea with you. It has become a tradition.”
The butler entered and announced the Countess of Chester. James groaned inwardly as he stood to receive the new arrival. Isabelle hadn’t told him that she was coming.
The countess entered with a huge smile, her fiery red hair bobbing in curls above her shoulders. Her dark eyes immediately locked onto James.
“Dear James!” she exclaimed, coming to him immediately. “It is so good to see you again! It has been too long.”
“Indeed, Countess,” James said, forcing a polite tone.
The countess laughed lightly. “How many times must I insist that you call me Victoria? Surely we know each other well enough for that.”
James had to fight to keep his discomfort from showing on his face. “If you truly insist.” It was what he said every time, but he continued to call use her title.
Victoria turned to Isabelle. “Isabelle! I was so happy to receive your invitation to attend the ball with your little party.” She looked around the room. “And where is your goddaughter, the one you told me about?”
“Upstairs, getting ready,” Isabelle said. “She should be down presently. I am so glad that you decided to come, Victoria.”
“Once I heard that James was finally attending a ball after so many years I could hardly refuse. It has been so long since we have danced together.”
James breathed out a long sigh through his nose, trying to calm himself. He hadn’t missed Victoria’s wiles and blunt comments in the slightest. She infuriated him, and, in that frame of mind, he always had difficulty deciding how to respond to her.
“How is the wild girl?” Victoria asked, sitting in an extra chair that the butler had brought over to the table.
“I was just telling James,”, said Isabelle, “how Elizabeth has vastly improved.” “Her father sent her an ultimatum by letter, and since then she has been quite a well-mannered young lady.”
“What sort of ultimatum?” Victoria asked, as a servant poured her tea.
Isabelle scooted forward on her chair, obviously enjoying relating the gossip. “He said that if she does not behave, he will force her to marry Lord Huxley.”
Victoria snorted and had to cover her face, as she laughed with food in her mouth. “Lord Huxley?” she asked incredulously, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “No one should marry him. He is a vile old brute.”
James looked at her. He didn’t know Lord Huxley himself, and while Victoria’s comment may have been true, he thought it was going a bit far to say that aloud.
“That is just what I thought,” Isabelle said. “Her father knows it too, but he has had enough of Elizabeth’s stubbornness. I really do think that he means it.”
“Well,” Victoria sighed, “the threat of marriage to Huxley is a rather strong motivation.” Her sharp eyes looked at James. “What do you think, James?”
James didn’t want to take part in the gossip that should have only been known to Lady Elizabeth, her father, and perhaps Lady Kinsley. “I think that it is good Lady Elizabeth has seen the error of her ways, no matter the reason.”
“Oh!” interrupted Isabelle, looking past James to the door.
James turned and saw Elizabeth in the doorway. He immediately stood, and found himself suddenly captivated by her appearance for a long moment, during which time seemed to be suspended. For once she looked like a lady in her impeccable white gown and her hair perfectly styled. Glittering pins held her shining locks in place around her head. James had to admit that she looked perfectly stunning. And, in that moment, though she wore a bored countenance, he knew that there was more to her. There was someone else hiding behind that rebel facade, and he was determined to find her out, whatever it took.
“My dear Elizabeth,” said Isabelle, “you look absolutely radiant.”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched into a small smile, though she quickly reverted to a frown. “Thank you, Lady Kinsley.”
James opened his mouth to give his opinion, but just then Victoria stepped forward and intercepted Elizabeth, guiding her further into the room. “What a pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you from Isabelle!”
Isabelle stood, smiling. “Elizabeth, may I introduce my friend, the Countess of Chester? I spoke of her to you before. She is joining us at the ball tonight.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows raised slightly, and she nodded but gave no other indication that she reciprocated that pleasure which Victoria had spoken of.
Victoria continued as though Elizabeth had appeared to be thrilled to meet her. “I believe that I have so much I can teach you! I am sure that Isabelle is doing her very best, and she has told me that you are much improved, but there are some things only a countess knows.”
Elizabeth’s expression remained stoic, and James bit back a smile. If there was anybody he didn’t mind watching Elizabeth ignore, it was Victoria. It was evident that Elizabeth wasn’t taken in by her guise of helpfulness.
“Well,” Isabelle said, clapping her hands together, “now that we are all here, we should be going!”
Chapter 7
As they walked out to the carriage, Isabelle pulled Elizabeth aside.
“Elizabeth,” she said quietly, “you have done very well this past week, and as of this minute, I have a good report to send to your father. Please continue your good work, and do not cause any kind of scandal at the ball. Do you understand?”
Elizabeth bristled at the good-natured advice, but the threat of Lord Huxley was a constant reminder to be good. Now, she could only picture him in her mind as a dog, which was both a relief and a worry. Elizabeth nodded. “I understand, Lady Kinsley.”
“Good.” Her godmother smiled kindly. “It is time to put those dancing lessons to use.”
James left in his own carriage, while Lady Kinsley, Victoria, and Elizabeth rode in Lady Kinsley’s. Elizabeth found herself sitting next to Victoria and tried her best to sit as far away from her as possible. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she didn’t like the countess. There was something rather unsettling about her.
“So,” Victoria began, as the carriage started its journey, “Isabelle tells me that you are in dire need of a husband. I do hope that someone finds you suitable. I would hate to see such a young and beautiful lady as yourself be married to an old lord like Huxley. It would be such a waste.”
Elizabeth offered Victoria a forced smile at the comment. She spent the rest of the ride staring obstinately out the window, trying as best she could to ignore Victoria’s comments. It seemed like an eternity before they reached Lord and Lady Brisbane’s estate, when Elizabeth was free of the terrible woman’s company for a moment, as she exited the carriage.
They entered the ballroom to the sound of music. Couples were dancing, and people talked, laughed, and drank. The area was so brightly lit with candles and lanterns that it seemed there were no shadows in sight. Elegant furnishings decorated the room, from shining chandeliers to golden door handles.
Elizabeth found herself in a daze, as her senses were suddenly assaulted by it all. Women in fine dresses fluttered around, all of them seeming to smile in the same way. They laughed and flirted with the men, some obviously taking advantage of the fact that they were not being closely watched by their guardians. Elizabeth’s heart pounded, as she realized that they were what her godmother and her father were trying to turn her into. They all looked the same, like copies of each other. How could she become one of them? She was who she was. She could not give that up.
“Try to be charming, if you can.” Victoria’s patronizing voice penetrated El
izabeth’s panic. “Look…, like this.” She glided past Elizabeth, holding her head high, and disappeared into the crowd.
Elizabeth was distracted from her worries by a spark of annoyance for the countess. She looked around to locate Isabelle, but she was already engaged in conversation elsewhere. Her godmother’s eyes met hers, however, and she motioned her forward.
“Ah, Elizabeth! You must meet Lord and Lady Brisbane.” She smiled at Elizabeth, giving her a distinct look that told her not to be on her best behavior. “My goddaughter, Lady Elizabeth Gladstone, come to stay with me for the season,” she informed the Brisbanes.
Lady Brisbane turned to Elizabeth with a smile that was so wide and welcoming that it looked forced. “I hope you are having a pleasant time in London, Lady Elizabeth.” She gestured to the room. “How do you find the ball so far?”
Elizabeth found herself frozen in the face of her hosts. She wanted to say that she found it suffocating, but she couldn’t quite get the words out. Isabelle’s gaze bored into her, and Elizabeth found she couldn’t even swallow. Her tongue felt as if it were paralyzed.
“Lord and Lady Brisbane.” James’ voice interrupted the awkward pause. “May I say what a wonderful ball you have hosted this evening. The decorations are absolutely exquisite.”
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, as the Brisbanes turned their attention from her and thanked James for his compliments. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, James placed a guiding hand on Elizabeth’s back.
“If you will excuse me, I have someone I wish to introduce to Lady Elizabeth.”
The hosts bid them farewell, as if nothing unusual had happened, and James led Elizabeth away into the crowd. They reached an unoccupied corner, where James turned to her, frowning with concern. “Are you well, Lady Elizabeth?” he asked in a low tone. “You look rather pale.”
Once again, Elizabeth found herself speechless, but this time it was because she wasn’t quite sure how to thank him for saving her, and she wanted to know what his motivations were. She felt as though she had never received anything but disapproval from him. She wrung her hands together, her palms slick with sweat, and looked down, entirely overwhelmed.
“Here.” He presented her his handkerchief, which she hesitantly took and balled into her hands.
“Thank you,” she murmured, offering it back to him.
James shook his head. “Please keep it.” He frowned. “What has worried you so?”
“I…” Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure how to describe the way she was feeling so out of place, and after a moment she wondered why she would even try to describe it to the duke. Yes, he had been kind, but he was only an acquaintance. “I would rather not speak of it, my lord,” she said softly.
“Very well, then.” He held out his hand. “Perhaps we can dance then, rather than talk.”
Elizabeth stared at his hand, then looked into his eyes. “Why would you want to dance with me?” Hadn’t he seen the way she’d acted since the beginning?
James simply raised his eyebrows, waiting.
Elizabeth hesitantly took his hand, and he led her to where a dance was just beginning. They quickly took their places across from each other. James bowed, and Elizabeth curtseyed. They began the dance in silence, and Elizabeth kept her eyes on him, trying to forget about the rest of the ball happening around her.
Though the ball was threatening to break down all of the composure she had tried so hard to maintain, Elizabeth considered that she had been well-behaved since she had received her father’s letter, but she didn’t know how long she could continue. Would her father hang this threat over her head forever?
“My lord,” she began, “has Mrs. Kinsley told you of my father’s threat to force me to marry Lord Huxley?”
They parted ways for a moment in the dance and came back together. “Yes,” he replied.
“Can he really force me?” she asked. It was a question she had been longing to know, but she hadn’t known who to put it to. Somehow, James seemed like just the right person.
James pursed his lips, and his eyes rolled upward in thought. His body seemed to move automatically to the rhythms of the dance, almost as if he would be able to perform it with his eyes closed. Elizabeth, meanwhile, struggled to maintain the rhythm in her feet.
“He cannot physically force you,” James decided, eventually, “but he can cut off your allowance and your dowry.”
Elizabeth sighed, knowing that that was as good as her father actually forcing her. She looked around the ballroom. She couldn’t see herself beside any of these men who flirted so openly and were only after money and beauty. What if there was no man she could love on this earth? Would she single-handedly doom her father’s estate by never finding a suitable husband?
The duke seemed to be deep in thought for the rest of the dance, and Elizabeth was wrapped up in ruminations herself. When the dance ended, the duke asked if they might continue their conversation. Elizabeth consented and followed him to a quieter room away from the dancing.
He stood across from her and licked his lips, his forehead creased in either concentration or concern. “Lady Elizabeth,” he began, his eyes flashing up to meet hers, “the businesslike manner in which I am about to speak may seem a little unorthodox, but please consider my words carefully. You are seeking freedom from your father and a potential suitor who, as I understand from Isabelle’s description, is rather unlikely to exist. I require a friend and companion, and someone to help me look after Oscar.” He paused and took a deep breath. Elizabeth couldn’t fathom what he was trying to say.
“I propose that we help each other,” he continued. “If you marry me, you will earn your freedom.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. She stared at the duke, who was watching her with a solemn countenance, but a spark of hope in his eyes. She barely knew this man, and, though he seemed kind, it would be ridiculous to marry someone so quickly.
“I can save myself, thank you,” she replied quickly, but then she remembered what kindnesses he had bestowed upon her and added, “I am flattered, my lord.”
The duke sighed, looking straight into her eyes. “You may be able to save yourself, but can you save your father’s estate?”
Chapter 8
As James waited for Elizabeth’s response to his question, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what had compelled him to propose to her in such a manner. Though he hated to admit it, perhaps his mother and Isabelle had been right after all. He was missing a companion. Something about Lady Elizabeth was exciting yet, in a way, familiar.
Elizabeth laughed a little, shaking her head. James wondered if she was thinking over what had just happened, as he was.
Finally, she met his eyes again. “I cannot save my father’s estate. It seems like whatever I do, I am bound to disappoint him and bring him closer to ruin.” She frowned, looking down at the ground. “This does seem like a reasonable solution,” she said slowly, “but do you truly understand who you will be marrying?” She met his eyes, and for once, she looked vulnerable, as if she feared his answer.
There she is, he thought, the true Elizabeth, no longer hiding behind someone else. James smiled. “I do have some idea,” he said, with a chuckle, making Elizabeth smile. “But I am willing to learn more.”
“It is decided, then?” asked Elizabeth, extending her hand.
James raised an eyebrow.
“I believe this is how one concludes business transactions?” Elizabeth explained, with a small smile on her face.
James shook her hand. “It is decided,” he agreed. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and realized that Victoria was standing nearby, within earshot. He silently cursed her presence. Elizabeth’s gaze darted in the same direction, and she dropped James’ hand.
“Pardon me, my lord,” she said, regaining some of the nervous demeanor that had been apparent when she first arrived. “I believe I need some air.”
She brushed past Victoria, having no
other choice in the small space, and the countess bumped into her. Red wine spilled down Elizabeth’s dress. She froze, looking down at the catastrophe.
“Oh dear,” began Victoria, with exaggerated sorrow in her voice, “I am so sorry, Lady Elizabeth. How clumsy of me.”
James glared at Victoria, but she was still relishing Elizabeth’s horror, as all eyes in the room registered what had happened. Everyone was staring at her now. Elizabeth breathed something unintelligible, and then rushed off toward the balcony.
Fuming, James approached Victoria, who was watching Elizabeth leave. “Perhaps Isabelle has lost her touch,” Victoria sighed. “Turning that girl into a proper lady has failed terribly. Such a pity.”
He didn’t even meet her eyes. “If you were the center of negative attention, countess, you would be upset as well,” he retorted.
