The Earl’s Dangerous Passion (Historical Regency Romance)

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The Earl’s Dangerous Passion (Historical Regency Romance) Page 35

by Ella Edon


  "Oh. Of course. I see." Grace looked down again, wishing there were not constant reminders at every turn of how much all this was costing. "Then – who?"

  Aunt Betsey glanced at Uncle Leonard, and she looked very pleased with herself. "Now, it wasn’t easy, but I succeeded in having Mrs. Ezra Robbins sign your ticket for you."

  "Agnes Robbins owns the inn across the street," said Uncle Leonard. "She’s quite an important personage in Birdwell. She and her late husband practically founded the whole town some twenty-five years ago."

  "She’s been widowed for nearly twenty of those years, but it has never slowed her down," said Aunt Betsey. "Her daughter, Merope, will certainly be attending every one of the balls. If Agnes Robbins is willing to introduce you there, you will be accepted by everyone in attendance."

  "And she’s willing to do this? When she has never even met me?"

  "Well, now! Mrs. Robbins has been a good friend of ours for the many years that we have had our shop here. She was quite willing to sponsor our niece."

  "Out of friendship, then."

  Uncle Leonard laughed. "Friendship and five yards of our best purple velvet for a new cloak."

  Grace tried to smile, but only found herself trembling. "I – I’m sure that is meant to make me feel better, but I'm afraid it only adds to my nervousness," she whispered, and then began pacing the floor again.

  "Aunt Betsey, are you sure I can do this? I’m only a servant. I’ve never attended anything like this except to scrub the floors after it was over." She felt like breaking down and weeping from nerves and fright.

  "Grace Margaret Miller!" Aunt Betsey scolded. "Both your uncle and I are confident that you can do this, else we would not be putting so much at risk for you. Just remember your story. That’s the most important thing you can take with you as you walk through this town and through the doors to the ball."

  "That’s right," said Uncle Leonard. "Never forget: Your father has been dead, for many years, now. Your mother's brother, Uncle Leonard Vane, lives modestly as a merchant and quietly provides for the Miller family as best he can."

  "You are Miss Grace Miller, from a modest, but respectable trades family," said Aunt Betsey. "All of you lived far to the north in a small village called Maybranch. There were few opportunities in Maybranch, and so, at the first chance, your mother brought you to Birdwell to be near your aunt and uncle, and meet new people."

  "But – Aunt Betsey – I've never heard of any town called Maybranch."

  "No one has ever heard of Maybranch, dear. That's why it's an excellent town for you to have come from."

  "Oh," murmured Grace, as understanding dawned, and she sat down again on the footstool.

  Uncle Leonard stood up from his chair. "You have never been a servant. Your father was never a drunkard. He was a tradesman, a wheelwright, before his unfortunate death some five years ago."

  Aunt Betsey stood up, as well. "You live in the cottage at Applewood. You help your widowed mother care for your two younger brothers. And you will stop at nothing to make the best match you possibly can, both for yourself and for all of us who got you here."

  Grace, too, rose to her feet, and managed to get her chin up and smile just a little. "Thank you, Aunt Betsey. Uncle Leonard."

  Aunt Betsey managed to smile in return. "We have thirteen days, Grace. And in those thirteen days, we will transform you into a lovely young lady who is proficient in dancing and whose manners are as good as anyone else's at this ball. You will catch the eye of every man there. We will see to that!"

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