by Abby Ayles
* * *
Noelle smiled another dimpled smile at her. Edith carefully placed a cameo necklace around her slender neck, fastening the chain in place. This small gesture gave her a bit more confidence.
* * *
One thing that aided the situation for her was that the ball was to take place at her own house. The Fletchers were staying at their London townhouse for the Season, as they always did now that the elder daughters were of age.
* * *
As soon as Noelle and Edith left the room, they found Kitty twirling around in the lilac gown, practically buzzing. It was as if this was her first ball.
* * *
“What are you so excited about?” Noelle asked her sister. “Can’t wait to see the old viscount again?”
* * *
“Oh no, no,” Kitty said with a giggle. “Haven’t you heard? Mr. Charles Ingram is going to be here tonight!”
* * *
Noelle blinked at her. “Ah… Mr. Charles Ingram.” She gave Edith a look and the maid surreptitiously shook her head.
* * *
It was impossible to keep up with Kitty’s ever-expanding list of gentlemen admirers – quite often she was the one who was really doing the admiring. Just the other day, she’d been fixated on a gentleman by the name of Mr. Edgar Chase. Noelle wished that she’d make up her mind, because it wouldn’t do for her to have too many suitors.
* * *
“You look lovely,” Anna, their sixteen-year-old sister complimented Noelle. She smiled at her with a look of respect and admiration. “I’m sure all the gentlemen will want to dance with you tonight.”
* * *
Anna was wearing a sweet pink gown with little fuchsia flowers all over it. She looked as sweet as a just-bloomed flower herself.
* * *
Noelle smiled back at her. It was amazing to her how much her little sister had grown. Anna and Beth – who was fifteen years old – were still so sweet and innocent, not at all like their overly-flirtatious elder sister Catherine.
* * *
The Duchess of Salisbury took great pride in her daughters’ beauty and decorum, though Noelle knew that whenever they were going to attend a ball she became rather nervous. “Where are Beth and Emily?” Noelle asked her sisters.
* * *
“Beth is finishing up getting ready and Emily is reading in the library,” Anna replied as if she knew this question would be asked.
* * *
It was no surprise at all that Emily was off reading. She cared far more about the characters in books than she ever did about things that were happening in real life.
* * *
Suddenly, their mother came huffing up the steps, fanning herself with a large, white feather fan. She was wearing a beautiful honey-colored gown with a shimmering gold ornament carefully placed in her deep-brown curls. Though a woman of forty-one, the Duchess of Salisbury was every bit as beautiful as her daughters still.
* * *
Though perhaps less so when she is out of breath, Noelle thought to herself as she smiled at her mother.
* * *
“Oh, good, you’re all ready,” the duchess said to them, looking Noelle, Catherine, and Anna over each briefly in turn. “Your father and the viscount are here. They’re drinking port in the sitting room. Where’s Beth?”
* * *
As if on cue, Beth hobbled out of the bedchamber that she shared with Anna, stepping into her left slipper. She wore a modest blue gown with a little bonnet on her head. Whenever Noelle looked at her, she could still imagine the little baby that Beth used to be.
* * *
It gave her a queer feeling. She could only imagine how their mother must feel.
* * *
The duchess smiled at Beth approvingly. “Splendid,” she said to the young ladies who now stood in a row before her. Then, noticing Edith there, she frowned a little. “Edith, be a dear and see if Collette needs any help in the drawing room.”
* * *
“Oh, yes, my lady,” Edith said with a quick, awkward curtsy. She gave Noelle one last smile of encouragement before going down the staircase as she was ordered.
* * *
Now that the ladies of the house were all dressed and ready, it was time for them to go downstairs and wait for the arrivals of the guests.
* * *
***
Mr. Rodrick Edwards threw a forest green, velour jacket onto his shoulders and examined his expression in the looking glass. The jacket did well to highlight the olive green in his eyes, and his gold-brown waistcoat did the same to the thin ring of gold around his pupils. He didn’t notice this as much as he noticed the intensity and the determination that his eyes also conveyed.
* * *
He knew that his cousin, James Edwards, the Viscount of Easton, was due to arrive any moment. They were to be guests at the Duke of Salisbury’s ball that evening and as such he wanted to look his best.
* * *
He ran his hands through his short black curls, mussing them up a bit in a way that managed somehow to look even more pleasing than they had a moment before. He smirked. “That will certainly do,” he said to himself.
* * *
If the duke’s ball was to be like the usual parties in the London ton, then it was hoped – at least by Rodrick’s mother – that it would be a veritable marriage mart. Such events were usually teeming with fine young ladies … the trouble for Rodrick was always that none of them seemed to be the right lady for him, or he the right man for them.
* * *
James was always held in a much higher regard, both because he was titled and destined to be an earl someday and also because he was a great deal more amiable than Rodrick, who was more brash and had a bit of a sharp tongue. If he was ever to find a bride at one of these balls, he hoped that he’d find someone who was genuine and not in it for the glitz and glamour of a title that he couldn’t bestow.
* * *
The nephew of an earl was not destined for much, but Rodrick was guaranteed a comfortable and wealthy life for the rest of his days. In his heart of hearts, he longed to share that life with a loving wife. But he would not voice this desire, because his mother would never let him hear the end of it. She hardly did as it was.
* * *
Smyth, their butler, knocked lightly upon the open door before coming into the room. He bowed low. “Sir, you have a guest downstairs in the lounge.”
* * *
Rodrick turned from the mirror, a surprised smile on his face. “Lord Edwards?”
* * *
The butler shook his head. “No, sir. It is Lord Drake. I have already requested some tea for the man. Though I daresay he doesn’t intend to stay long …”
Do you want to read more?
Click on the link below!
http://abbyayles.com/AmB014
Also by Abby Ayles
The Lady, The Duke And The Gentleman
A Broken Heart’s Redemption
Falling for the Governess
The Lady’s Gamble
The Lady’s Patient
Saving Lady Abigail
Engaging Love
A Cinderella for the Duke
The Tales of Haskett’s Manor
Portrait of Love
A Mysterious Governess for the Reluctant Earl
The Ladies' Secrets
Loving A Lady
About the Author
Abby Ayles was born in the northern city of Manchester, England, but currently lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband and their three cats. She holds a Masters degree in History and Arts and worked as a history teacher in middle school.
Her greatest interest lies in the era of Regency and Victorian England and Abby shares her love and knowledge of these periods with many readers in her newsletter.
In addition to this she has also written her first romantic novel, The Duke's Secrets, which is set in the era and is available for free on her website. As one reader commente
d “Abby’s writing makes you travel back in time!”
When she has time to herself, Abby enjoys going to the theatre, reading and watching documentaries about Regency and Victorian England.
