“Do not be foolish, Patience. You deserve someone wonderful. If we must be married, it should be to someone that… excites us,” Amelia said, rising up onto her toes and clasping her hands in front of her breast.
Her comment caused Patience to flush with embarrassment. It was easy to forget Patience was two years older than Amelia and a year older than Charity, for her naivety gave her a childlike demeanor.
“Not all of us are beautiful enough to hold out for someone handsome,” said Patience. When she blushed, her freckles blended with the rosiness of her cheeks. Her eyes alighted with hope, and she was pretty in a shy sort of way.
Charity nodded her agreement, but Amelia frowned and clasped Patience’s hands. “You are sweet and bright and caring. Any man would be lucky to have you for his wife. Do not settle because you feel you have no choice. The right man will come along. Just you wait and see.”
Tears swelled in Patience’s bright blue eyes. Amelia hoped she would not begin to cry; the girl was prone to hysterics and leaps of emotion. Charity was only a notch better, and if one girl began the other was certain to follow. Two crying girls was not the spectacle Amelia hoped to make at a ball. She clapped her hands together and twirled around, so her skirts fanned out around her feet.
“Come now; let us find some of those handsome men to dance with. It should not be hard for three young ladies like us.” Amelia glanced back.
Patience was wiping at her eyes and fidgeting with her dress— no matter how many times Amelia scolded her for it, the girl could not quit the nervous and irritating gesture—which generally wrinkled her dress with two fist sized wads on either side of her waist. Meanwhile Charity was puffing out her chest like a seabird. One more deep breath and she was sure to burst her seams.
It would be up to Amelia, then. In a matter of minutes she had snagged two gentlemen and placed one with Charity and one with Patience on the promise that she herself would dance with them afterward. Though men waited around her, looking hopefully in her direction, none dared approach until she gave them a sign of interest. She had already earned a reputation of being discerning with whom she favored, and no man wanted the stigma of having been turned away. Amelia perused the ballroom at her leisure, silently wishing for something more than doters and flatterers after her father’s influence.
* * *
Samuel Beresford did not want to be here. He found balls a tremendous waste of time, the dancing and the flirting and, thinly veiled beneath it all, the bargaining. For that was what marriage boiled down to, a bargain. It was all about striking a deal where each person involved believed they had the advantage over the other. If it were not for his brother’s pleading, he would never been seen at a fancy affair like this. Dressed in his naval uniform, a blue coat with gold epaulets and trimmings and white waistcoat and breeches, he attracted more attention than he wished.
“Stop scowling, Samuel,” said Percival as he returned to his brother’s side from a brief sojourn with a group of lords. “You look positively dour.”
“Did you find the man?” Samuel inquired.
Percival sipped his wine and shook his head. “It is no matter. Let us concentrate on the women. We should be enjoying their company and you seem intent on scaring them all off with your sour expression.”
Unlike himself, Samuel’s older brother Percival loved the frivolity of these occasions. As the eldest son of an earl it was very nearly an obligation of his office to enjoy them, so Samuel could not begrudge his brother doing his duty.
“You think it my expression and not our looks that are to blame?” Samuel asked, only half in jest. To appease his brother he hid his scowl behind the rim of his wine glass.
The Beresford brothers were not of disagreeable appearance, but they lacked the boyish looks so favored at the moment. They did not look gentlemanly, the brothers were too large, their features too distinctly masculine, for the women to fawn and coo over. Additionally Samuel had been sent to the Royal Naval Academy at the age of twelve, a life that had led him to be solidly built, broad across the chest and shoulders. He felt a giant amongst the gentry.
“Smile a bit brother, and let us find out.” Percy elbowed Samuel in the side.
* * *
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The Duke’s Daughter ~ Lady Amelia Atherton
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Also By Isabella Thorne
The Ladies of Bath
The Duke’s Daughter ~ Lady Amelia Atherton
The Baron in Bath ~ Miss Julia Bellevue
The Deceptive Earl ~ Lady Charity Abernathy
The Hawthorne Sisters
The Forbidden Valentine ~ Lady Eleanor
The Baggington Sisters
The Countess and the Baron ~ Prudence
Almost Promised ~ Temperance
The Healing Heart ~ Mercy
The Lady to Match a Rogue ~ Faith
Nettlefold Chronicles
Not Quite a Lady; Not Quite a Knight
Stitched in Love
* * *
Other Novels by Isabella Thorne
The Mad Heiress and the Duke ~ Miss Georgette Quinby
The Duke’s Wicked Wager ~ Lady Evelyn Evering
Short Stories by Isabella Thorne
Love Springs Anew
The Mad Heiress' Cousin and the Hunt
Mischief, Mayhem and Murder: A Marquess of Evermont
Mistletoe and Masquerade ~ 2-in-1 Short Story Collection
Colonial Cressida and the Secret Duke ~ A Short Story
The Lady to Match a Rogue: Faith Page 23
