by Abby Ayles
Her parents would be holding a ball the following night, to celebrate the countdown of the twelve days of Christmas, as well as Antoinette's recovery. Mr. Perry was being as helpful as always, but he was a little less present.
“You seem much busier as of late,” Antoinette remarked as Mr. Perry arrived with some cases of wine which Lord Byrd had ordered.
Mr. Perry shrugged. “I am not a member of staff.”
“Oh, I know that, of course not. It is only that... you seemed to have a lot more time a week ago,” Antoinette explained. “You would spend so many hours with me when I was ill and... I suppose I expected you to have as much time now.”
He shook his head. “When you were ill it was different,” he replied. “I was making a greater effort to care for my friend, I needed to see you recovering well. But I do have a life of my own.”
A part of her secretly wanted to ask why he was still there and helping at all. But she had a feeling she already knew the answer, and she did not wish to put him in the position of having to say such a thing or lie. If he wished to help, then he could.
Mr. Perry continued to offer his help for much of the morning, but by the afternoon he had declared that he was busy and returned to his home. The house felt a little strange without him. He had been there for her when she had most needed him, but it had felt so natural that now his absence felt forced. She knew it was unhealthy to think of him like that. After all, he was simply a friend. He had to remain a friend. He was to marry Lucy, she was to marry Duke Godwin, and then they would both continue to be friends forever.
So if that was the way it was supposed to be, why did the very thought of such an arrangement leave her feeling sick?
Antoinette decided it would be best to distract herself by getting dressed for the ball. Lady Byrd was also preparing her clothes and makeup early. Not wanting to be left alone with her thoughts, Antoinette knocked on the door to her mother's room.
“Come in,” Lady Byrd said calmly.
Antoinette did not need asking twice. “It's me,” she declared as she opened the door. “I was simply wondering whether... whether you would talk with me, and assist me with my dress.”
Lady Byrd did not turn around from her mirror. “Of course, Antoinette,” she replied, “we need you to look fantastic tonight. It will have been quite some time since most of our guests last saw you, and I am sure they are eager to see you looking strong and healthy again.”
Antoinette sat down on the edge of her mother's bed. “I think I have decided who I wish to marry,” she said cautiously.
“Duke Godwin?” Lady Byrd asked.
“Yes, Duke Godwin,” Antoinette replied. “How did you know?”
“Well, he is obviously the better choice,” Lady Byrd said. “The trouble is getting a man such as him to propose. In the past, he has been rather vocal about his disinterest in the fairer sex, let alone in marriage, and although he is naturally appreciative of your charms, he has so far failed to ask your father for your hand.”
“But when I was caring for him he said...” Antoinette began before trailing off.
“Precisely. He was ill. Possibly delirious. He may not even recall making such a promise, and even if he did he is under no obligation to honour it,” Lady Byrd explained.
“But I... we...” Antoinette shook her head.
“I am confident that he will eventually ask for your hand,” Lady Byrd replied. “But eventually is not good enough. We need to secure him. We need to convince him to act on his desire, the sooner the better. You are not growing any younger.”
Antoinette felt insulted, but understood what her mother was saying nonetheless. A man who intended to marry her was not the same as a man she was married to. No marriage meant no children, no status, and no income. And however flattering it was that a Duke had expressed interest in marrying her, it was far more important for him to ask for her hand formally. Flattery did not pit bread on the table.
“What do you think I ought to do?” Antoinette asked.
“Whatever it was that you did when he was ill. That seemed to win him over,” her mother remarked.
Antoinette thought back. What had she been doing that won him over? She had been submitting. She had been doting. She had been waiting on him hand and foot, giving in to his every petty demand, and gritting her teeth because he was ill and she wanted to impress him.
And if she wished to continue to impress him, then she would need to continue to submit to his every demand. And then, once they were married, she would have to keep that up for the rest of her life.
As time came for the ball to begin, Antoinette's trepidation only grew. This, she reminded herself, was why she had been experiencing so much trouble committing to Duke Godwin. For all his positive traits, this one major flaw was driving her away. It was just too much. How could she bear to forever stifle herself so as to keep him happy?
Of course, she could just pretend to be everything he wanted. She could submit and be obedient and put every aspect of her individual identity aside so as to please him. And then once they were married she could resume being herself and he would have to endure it. But that was wrong. It was not Duke Godwin's fault that she was not the woman he wanted her to be. He did not need to be punished for not loving her for who she truly was. Either she had to commit to being his ideal wife for the rest of her life, or she had to accept that she would never be right for him, and leave him free to find a woman who truly was everything he desired.
She decided that, rather than attempt to win him over immediately, perhaps it would be better to just mingle a little, calm her nerves, and give herself time to think before finding him at the ball. She needed to approach this with a clear mind and full focus, not with doubts on her mind. There was no room for doubt: Duke Godwin was a catch and she needed to persuade him to finally ask for her hand in marriage.
Antoinette was relieved not to be greeting guests with her parents. She much preferred to mingle, and she knew that socializing would warm her up ready for talking to Duke Godwin. Knowing that Mary and Lucy would both be there brought joy to her heart. Not only would she be able to talk to someone else before facing Duke Godwin, but she would be able to seek their advice and moral support.
If she could find them... The number of guests almost rivalled those at Duke Godwin's own events, and now that Christmas was approaching everyone had brought out their most extravagant and festive gowns. The bigger skirts which were not so popular about town anymore had been dusted off, and ribbons and jewels shone everywhere. The bright colours of Christmas shone on everyone's attire, bolder than they would dress on a daily basis, bringing festive cheer to all who looked at them.
Except for Antoinette. They brought her only frustration. Behind the bouncy curled hairdos, the big skirts, and the bright colours, she could barely see the people, let alone find someone she knew. She swerved between the people, looking left and right for her cousin or her friend, hoping that she would find them before her suitors found her.
Antoinette finally spied Lucy through the crowd. A familiar face, at last! She swiftly marched up towards the small group where Lucy was talking and laughing, ready to greet her and whisk her away to talk about more important matters. Namely: marriage and her own dilemma.
But she stopped short of greeting her friend. Lucy was there with Mr. Perry. Why of course she was. He was her suitor at present, and they would be betrothed as soon as he summoned the courage to ask Baron Fitzroy for his permission. They had both been invited, and would probably be attending every festive event together.
As they laughed and joked with the others around them, Antoinette tried to feel happy for them. They were her best friends, after all. Lucy was young and naïve, but she was in good hands, with someone who would do everything possible to care for her. And Mr. Perry may not love Lucy yet, but she was possibly his only chance at marrying well, and she was so sweet and charming he would no doubt fall in love with her as their marriage progressed. Theirs was the v
ery picture of an ideal partnership. Both were godly, kind people, both benefited from the arrangement, and both would grow to love one another. It was right.
But why did she feel so betrayed?
She had known all about this and yet... it made her heart ache. She loved them both dearly and yet she turned around so as to not be noticed by either of them. She would seek Mary instead. Speaking with Mary would be easier...
She saw her cousin standing by the piano, which was currently unoccupied. To her cousin's left stood Duke Haskett, and to her right stood Cecilia. Although neither of her companions looked particularly impressed by the ball, Mary was either oblivious to their concerns, or doing her best to keep a cheery mood despite whatever had upset them.
Antoinette walked up to the trio smiling and curtsied. “How do you do?” she said.
Mary nodded and smiled back. “Well, thank you. And you?”
“Well, very well...” Antoinette glanced at Duke Haskett and Cecilia, who seemed intent on avoiding one another's gaze. Duke Haskett forced out a smile, Cecilia appeared ready to leave at a moment's notice.
Mary grinned in understanding. “Yes, it's not about the ball. The ball is wonderful. They have simply had a little disagreement.”
Antoinette had a feeling she knew what it was about, but she would not ask about it until she had Mary on her own. In fact, she could not even speak about Duke Godwin until they had some privacy. After all, much like Mr. Perry, she felt that Duke Haskett and Cecilia both had strong opinions on the matter, and were not necessarily going to keep these opinions to themselves.
“How are you feeling, I heard you were also ill,” Antoinette said, looking Mary up and down. “But you look much better than I did at this stage of the illness.”
“Oh,” Mary blushed, “I did not have the same illness as yourself and Duke Godwin. My parents assumed I had and brought me home for immediate bed rest and constant care. But it turned out to be nothing more than a cold.” She giggled a little here. “I suppose it is nice that they are so protective.”
Antoinette muffled a laugh behind her hand too. “A cold? Well, I suppose one can never be too cautious.”
“Antoinette! There you are!”
Antoinette turned around to see Lucy approaching them through the crowd, waving slightly and grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“Lucy, how do you do?” Antoinette said.
Lucy hugged her friend. “Very well, very well. I still need to thank you for introducing me to Mr. Perry, he is so charming. So lovely.”
Antoinette forced herself to keep smiling. “Yes he is, is he not? I saw the two of you mingling earlier, but I was a touch distracted and I lost you in the crowd. You seemed very happy.”
“Oh, we are,” Lucy said, her eyes shining. “He is simply... gorgeous,” she sighed. “He is everything those romance novels talked about.”
“Yes, is that so?”
“Oh, it is! He is so tall and handsome, and so polite and well-spoken. Of course, he is a little shy, but I am sure that eventually he will open up some more. And however little he says, every word is wonderful. He's so insightful...” Lucy seemed to catch herself rambling and, with a deep blush, looked away a moment. “Forgive me, I am simply rather swept away.”
Of course she was. Mr. Perry was a charming man, and she was right to enjoy his company. But a small part of Antoinette was irked. Lucy had clearly not yet got to know Mr. Perry. He was shy and reserved to begin with, but as time passed he would open up to her. And yet she seemed infatuated with him. She could not possibly actually be in love with him, only with whatever impression she had of him. And he was not a romance novel character. He was a real man, with real feelings, one of which was a lack of true interest in Lucy.
“You must be cautious of such a man,” Mary advised. “Were he truly so perfect, do you not think he would be married by now?”
“He does not have much wealth,” Lucy admitted, “but that is no trouble to my parents. They seem happy with him. And I am more than happy myself.”
“It is true. He has no title, and very little money. He needs a woman who could support him, rather than one he needs to support. I suppose that under normal circumstances such men would never marry, but it is nice that your parents are making an exception.”
“Well, he is worth it,” Lucy replied. “And when we are married, what does it matter where the wealth came from? Provided he invests it well and I budget well, we are both still going to benefit from it.”
Antoinette caught herself about to ask Lucy whether it was really worthwhile, putting in all that effort. Whether, as the daughter of a Baron, she wanted to drop her title and become a common Mrs.
She stopped the words before they made it to her throat.
Why was she doing that? They were clearly both happy. Lucy's parents had offered to continue to support them. And Antoinette knew full well that with a little money to his name, Mr. Perry would be able to reinvest in his business and make it back and more, given enough time. There was only one reason why she would try and talk Lucy out of an arrangement which was so good for both her friends: sabotage.
Chapter 31
Antoinette suppressed her anger as she spoke to Lucy. After all, it was not Lucy's fault. Or Mr. Perry's fault. It wasn't even her fault. It was just the way their luck had fallen. She may love Mr. Perry, but the two of them could never realistically be together, no matter what they did. Their marriage would be a nightmare for everyone involved. Meanwhile, even though Lucy did not know Mr. Perry well enough to love him yet, Antoinette would have to trust her friend to grow to love him as he deserved to be loved.
So she smiled and nodded her head as Lucy gushed about Mr. Perry's many fine qualities. Some of them she knew to be true. Others were all Lucy's impression. Yet others even she was not sure of. But they were not hers to discover. And it was ripping her heart in two.
Now she knew that the joy she had experienced had not been at helping her friends. It had been at seeing Mr. Perry happy. At that moment she had not even been thinking about Lucy's wellbeing She had seen Mr. Perry unhappy and done her very best to make him smile. She had not been able to consider him for marriage, and he had been mourning his lack of marriage prospects. Recommending him to Baron and Baroness Fitzroy had been akin to recommending him a good tailor in her mind. Only... on some level she had expected them to reject him. On some secret level, she had been hoping they would consider Mr. Perry to be beneath their daughter, so Antoinette could keep him, her private friend and confidant, forever.
As she found herself tuning out Lucy's ravings and getting lost in her own thoughts and daydreams, a hand on her shoulder jolted her back into reality. A heavy hand which patted her lightly, with familiarity.
She spun around on the spot, unsure whether this was someone who needed to be embraced or slapped. But it was neither.
It was Duke Godwin. He was smiling broadly and held out his hand for her. “Please, let us dance,” he invited, nodding towards the centre of the room where other guests were already beginning a steady waltz.
Antoinette did not feel prepared to face him yet. But, from talking to Lucy, she had a sneaking suspicion she would never be ready. She just had to dive in and hope that it would all work out. “Of course,” she replied. Turning to Lucy she smiled softly. “Sorry, I have been invited to dance.”
But Lucy, who as a girl had been jealous of anyone who took Antoinette's attention away from their friendship, simply smiled back. “Have fun,” she said, turning around to talk to Mary as Duke Godwin guided Antoinette through to join in the dancing.
Duke Godwin held her hand firmly but surely, like someone would hold a puppy that was trying to escape. She squeezed his hand back to reassure him she was not going anywhere, but he did not relax his grip when she did. He just smiled.
“I am so grateful for everything you did for me when I was ill,” he said with a slight sigh. “That is how a woman truly ought to be, do you not agree?”
Antoinette shrugged and averted her gaze as she concentrated on keeping pace. “I suppose it is what everyone ought to do for the person they truly love.”
“But it does not come naturally to men,” Duke Godwin replied. “Good men, at least. We show our love by being brave, by offering gifts... not by fussing over someone and sitting by their side.”
“But it does come naturally to some men, some very good men,” Antoinette replied, a little indignant that gentle men such as Mr. Perry or her own brother were being dismissed so readily. “And it does not come naturally to all women.”
“That is the problem, though,” Duke Godwin insisted. “It ought to come naturally to women. You are born mothers. And yet so many fail to develop that nurturing which ought to happen on its own.”
Antoinette was tempted to reply that even if all women were born to be mothers, which she incidentally did not believe on account of God making barren women, that he was not a child and that if an adult man wanted a mother he should go to the woman who birthed him. But she bit her tongue. She could not afford to alienate this man. This was what he believed. This was what he wanted from a woman. And if she opposed it she would not be able to marry him.
“Many other women have approached me, but they have all fallen short of my ideals,” he explained, looking a little sorry for himself. “I do not expect the world of a woman. I know we are all fallen creatures. But so many of these women, or better said 'girls', are just too self-absorbed for my liking.”
Antoinette half smiled. “Surely, they cannot be so bad, though?”
“They are only interested in my money, or in the fantasy they have of becoming a Duchess,” Duke Godwin shrugged a little. “They do not think of me, or of what I want. Or of how they shall be a mother to my children, and a good wife to me. A good woman... she ought to be able to handle all that life gives her. She ought to be able to show me love and compassion and support, to look after our children, to do tasks about the house if needs be...”
“But not to speak another language, or travel?” Antoinette suggested. “What if she needed those skills?”
