by Abigail Agar
“Oh no, I am terribly sorry,” he said immediately as his eyes drank in the slip of a girl before him. “I hope I did not hurt you.”
She did not look hurt at all. If anything, her eyes had lit up in glee as if she liked the look of the Duke. “Oh no,” she purred. “I think I am fine; thank you very much.” She fluttered her eyelashes, hoping that he would be blindsided by her. “My name is Lady Victoria Hartmon. How about you?”
The Duke took Victoria’s hand, and he pressed a kiss against it, just as he knew he was expected to do. “You look beautiful,” he told her kindly. She did have a pretty face, even if it was a little understated compared to the rest of the women in the room. “The blue of your dress brings out your eyes.”
Victoria giggled and blushed in a coy manner. At twenty-one years of age, Victoria could not wait to get her hands on a husband. This was her third season, and she was growing increasingly desperate. The last thing she wanted was to end up an old, unmarried maid like her aunt. She wanted to be a wife, to be a mother, and the sooner that happened, the better.
As Victoria ran her eyes up and down Duke Edmund, glee filled her chest entirely. What a stroke of luck that the most eligible bachelor in the entire room had been the one to bump into her. It had to be fate telling her that this was the one.
She could feel her claws sinking into him, and she did not want to let him go.
Edmund could almost see Victoria turning on the charm, which only sent him back into his previous stiffened stance. This was the moment he was supposed to ask her to dance; he just knew it. Maybe he was not experienced at this sort of thing, but he was aware of that much.
Edmund was not sure why, but he did not really want to. There was something about Victoria that made him uneasy.
Stop being silly, he scolded himself silently. I am here to dance. Here is a Lady to dance with; it will only be one song.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked rapidly. At first, he thought he might have said the words too quickly for her to understand them, but she nodded eagerly. “Right, yes.”
She linked her arm through his and took the lead towards the dance floor. Victoria had an expert way of taking control without actually appearing to. To everyone else, it appeared that Edmund was happily leading Victoria to dance. Even if that was not the case.
They found a space on the floor and faced one another. As Victoria put her hands on Edmund’s shoulders, she insisted on maintaining an uncomfortable level of eye contact. Edmund could barely stand it; she made him feel uneasy. He did not think it was her obvious interest in him; he was used to that. It was her forward nature. He did not know how to take it.
As Edmund placed his hands on Victoria’s hips, his whole body remained numb to any kind of feelings. There was no spark as their skin brushed, and with this young Lady, Edmund did not ever think there would be.
He could not keep looking at her; it only highlighted how little he felt for her.
Fortunately, the music started up very quickly which gave Edmund something else to think about. He had to concentrate so hard on getting the steps right that he could not give Victoria any of his attention.
That was something that did not escape her notice.
It had been a very long time since Victoria had danced with a man that she found attractive. It had been even longer since she had been anywhere near a man who could give her the sort of life that she desired. Duke Edmund Smith could do that and more. He was a very wealthy man with a wonderful reputation, better than anyone she knew. His international shipping business was a huge success, and with his dedication, it got better every single day.
If she were ever going to get a husband, she would not do better than him.
“The band is wonderful,” she breathed into his ear. “Do you not think?”
“Hmm?” Edmund was distracted by the sensation of her warm breath on him. He forgot where he was for a moment and almost made a foolish error with his moves. “Oh, yes, they are terribly good.”
“Do you like music?” The steps were second nature to Victoria; she barely had to focus at all.
“Yes, I do,” Edmund replied, thinking that to be a very silly question. Everyone enjoyed music, did they not? It was the perfect form of escapism. “Do you?”
“Oh yes,” Victoria cooed. “I love the way that music makes me feel ...”
She continued to talk in Edmund’s ear, but he could barely listen to what she was saying. He did not mean to be rude, but her words were not captivating enough to distract him. Not when he needed to focus so badly. In fact, the whole thing was so stressful that he felt utterly relieved when the song came to an end, and he could move away from his dancing partner.
That is not something I am in a hurry to do again, he thought desperately. Maybe it is best that I just leave ...
“Thank you, Lady Victoria Hartmon,” he said while bobbing into a bow. “It was wonderful to dance with you, will you excuse me please?”
Victoria narrowed her eyes in anger, and Edmund turned on his heels and started to walk away from her. She did not want to be seen as someone who trailed after a man who had shown no interest in her, but she could also not let that incredible Duke get away.
He was just nervous that is all, she convinced herself as she fanned her face. The heat was so intense she just knew that her face was stained red. And he clearly did not know how to dance well. If I speak with him alone without any music or pressure, I shall get to know him better.
Making a snap decision, Victoria scooped up the skirts of her dress and followed Edmund out into the hallway where he had just escaped the stifling atmosphere of the ballroom.
Upon hearing footsteps behind him, Edmund was surprised to see that Victoria had followed him. His words got lost in his throat for just a second, and he found himself speechless. He did not know exactly what was happening, but he had a feeling he would not like it.
Victoria could feel herself about to do something rash and utterly crazy. It was an act that she had been driven to by desperation alone. If this were her first season, or maybe even her second, she would not even consider acting in such a manner, but something had to change. She could not carry on the way that she had; it would not do again.
With determination, she made it to Edmund in a heartbeat and reached up to hold onto his shoulders once more. Only this time, she lifted her body up so high that her lips reached the side of his mouth, leaving Edmund utterly stunned.
This is not done! he thought anxiously while freezing to the spot. If this moment is spotted, then both of our reputations shall be ruined.
He could not even work out what had caused it to happen; he had not given Victoria any indication that he was interested in her. He was very careful about that. There was certainly no explanation for why she would act this way.
No, I cannot do it.
Finally, sanity claimed Edmund, and he pushed Victoria back lightly. As he stared into her eyes, totally confused, he spotted a flash of determination in her gaze. She had not done this for nothing; there was something there that Edmund could not yet see. He just needed to dig a little deeper ...
That was when it hit him.
She orchestrated that; she wanted that to happen. Victoria wanted them to get caught. She knew that if Edmund ruined her reputation – even if it were not of his own doing – then he would be forced to marry her.
Shocked at the manipulation, he staggered backwards in despair. His eyes flickered everywhere as panic tore through him, but it appeared that they were alone. Whatever Victoria’s plan was, she did not get the audience that she needed for it.
“I think it is best that I leave,” Edmund told her coldly. “And I do not think we should ever speak of what just happened again.”
He paused as Victoria slammed her hands onto her hips. He could tell from the fire flashing behind her gaze that she had a lot to say, but thankfully pride stepped in the way and shut any of those arguments down.
Edmund straightened himself up,
and he turned towards the door which would take him to the outside world. Trying to find a wife at a ball such as this one was not the way for him; he had proven that with utter certainty now. He would have to consider what other options he had available to him, even if that meant he had to reconsider the woman he promised himself he would never marry.
In all honesty, a little eye roll from Mary Roberts was nothing compared to what he had been subjected to tonight. Maybe she was not so terrible after all ...
Chapter 8
As the carriage took Mary past the row of shops along the main street in London, she gazed out the window with a wish in her heart. She would have loved the chance to wander into one of them, to pick out the outfit that she wanted, and to maybe have some fun along the way.
But that was not becoming of a Lady. Stepping out of the carriage and moving freely among the shops was something that was just not done. That was why she had to go to a special dressmaker instead. She would visit Gloria in her home to get measured and to pick out the fabrics and design of the dress that she required. Usually, that was something that she enjoyed very much, but today, she could not muster up the enthusiasm at all. With her future hanging in the balance, she could not get excited about anything. She had only decided to come out to get a new dress to show Walter that she was making an effort. She hoped that if she could start attending society events with the hope of finding a husband that she actually liked, he would relent. Mary felt that he was sticking to her father’s vague rules too strictly.
“Are you feeling alright?” Daisy asked Mary. Once she made the decision to go to see Gloria, she asked her new friend to come with her. It was under the pretence that she would help to dress and undress the Lady if there was anything she decided to try on, but really it was for the friendship. “You have gone very pale.”
Mary smiled to herself, enjoying the way that Daisy felt more comfortable around her now. Once, she would never have been brave enough to speak without being spoken to, but now she felt content enough to ask questions about her appearance. That was a change that Mary found rather refreshing. “I am quite well, thank you, Daisy. I am just thinking.”
“Yes, I presume that you have a lot to think about, considering the area of town that we are in.”
Mary’s eyes automatically glanced outside once more, only this time she was given a wholly different view of the city. Things had dramatically changed from the lovely street of shops to a place where much poorer people lived. It was not the poorest part of the city, but it was bad enough to have Mary’s heart thumping wildly.
The homes were cramped and dirty; grime spilled down the brickwork like it belonged there. People in filthy brown and beige clothing yelled loudly at one another in what Mary considered a very uncouth manner, and children ran and screamed. From the day she could speak, Mary had been told that children should be seen and not heard. Clearly, the same rules did not apply here. There was even one man who had fallen to the floor in an apparent drunken state. A wet patch stained his trousers which made Mary avert her eyes quickly.
No wonder Charlotte was affected by this ... we have spent our whole lives being sheltered from this side of life.
Mary’s stomach churned while her pulse raced, and her whole body shook.
Then her eyes spotted something even worse, something that made her heart stop dead. A young girl, possibly the same age as Mary, stood just outside a pub with what looked like material wrapped around her for a dress. The garment had absolutely no structure and fell off her shoulder, almost as if it were designed to reveal as much of her body as possible. She clutched a fan between her fingers and peered seductively at the men who loitered near her.
She must be a street girl, Mary thought in a panic. A girl who sells her body for money.
Despite Charlotte’s offer, Mary could not help thinking that she would end up as a street girl when she rejected marriage to the Duke and she lost everything. It was like a nightmare that plagued her in the back of her brain ... but it was always a mysterious thought. Not something that she knew anything about. Seeing a real-life street girl standing in front of her made the nightmare all too real.
“You have a kind heart.” Daisy interrupted Mary’s thought pattern, causing her to jump. “Like I said to you before, there are not many people who care much about the living conditions of the working classes. Even if there is never anything that you can do, it is enough that you care.”
I care because I might end up as one of them, Mary thought desperately, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Th ... thank you,” she stammered as a reply instead. Even if Daisy was more her friend now, this was something she could not discuss with her. This was the sort of thing that she could only talk about with her sister, who might well understand her. She would have to make a call to her whenever she got the chance.
Mary could not stop her mind however much she wanted to. The last thing she wanted was to imagine taking the place of the girl, standing in the street and trying to lure the men towards her. With her title and position, the worst thing she had to worry about was a man kissing or touching her in a slightly inappropriate way. That was enough to ruin her reputation completely. How much would she be ruined if she were a street girl? She shuddered at the mere idea of it.
It was not something that Mary ever wanted to experience.
She could not imagine herself existing in those cramped houses, living among so many other people. And not just any people. Loud, dirty people with terrible smells emanating from them. Maybe she was not so unkind that she viewed the poor as only a parasite, but she did not want to be anywhere near them either.
“Daisy, did you grow up on a street such as that one?” Mary asked nervously as they pulled away from the horror and closer to Gloria’s home. Mary had been on this journey a hundred or so times before, but she had never bothered to look out before. Now, she wished she hadn’t again. Mary did not think that was a sight she could ever recover from. “Is that how you lived?”
“It was not that street.” Daisy’s lips tightened together. “But it was quite similar.”
Mary gulped and nodded slowly. Daisy knew so much more about the world than she did; she had knowledge that Mary did not even know she was missing.
“That is why I am so glad to work in your home.” Daisy’s face lit up, and a bright smile spread across her lips. “The roof over my head is so much better at your house.”
Mary had visited the staff quarters only once before when she was young and wandered off. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she explored the only part of her house that she had never seen before, although when she was caught, she acted as if she had gotten lost.
Mary did not say it to Daisy, but she did not think what she had under her roof was wonderful. It was small, very basic, incredibly boring to look at. Yes, maybe it was better than living on one of those streets, but was it fair? How had they come to live in a world where the lives of everyone were so different? One person lived in unnecessary luxury while the next could barely feed their children; one road was glamorous and lovely, the next dirty and smelly.
It seemed to Mary that something needed to change, but she did not know what. She just hoped that there was some miracle that ensured the lives of the poor ended up better before she became one herself.
“I think that we are here,” Daisy spoke out once more, causing Mary’s head to snap up to look at her. “The driver is stopping. This is Gloria’s house, is it not?”
Mary twisted her head to see the home that was more familiar to her than anything else she had seen today. This was the home of one of the most famous dressmakers in the whole of London; all the Ladies loved to see her because she made the finest things. Mary was lucky, but still she felt hollow. It did not feel right to spend so much money on an item of clothing that she did not really want, for a ball that she was not really keen to attend when there were people that had nothing.
Unfortunately, there was nothing that she could do abo
ut it now. The driver had brought her all the way, and she had to keep her appointment.
This is just to show Walter that I am trying my hardest, she tried to make herself feel much better. At least it is for a good reason.
But as she stepped down from the carriage with the help of the driver, she was not convinced at all. All of a sudden, nothing felt quite right anymore.
***
Mary felt exhausted as the carriage drove her away from Gloria’s house once more, returning her back to her own house. She had been pulled, twisted, measured, and prodded for hours on end. She had felt so many different fabrics and discussed so many colours that it left her feeling dizzy.
“You did not seem to enjoy yourself today,” Daisy commented as she cocked her head at Mary. “Do you not enjoy dress shopping? That seems like something I would think would be very enjoyable.”
