“I understand Aunt Charlotte is hosting a soiree,” she said, trying to brighten her tone.
Margaret smiled. “Yes. She also has arranged to present Juliette and me at court. His Grace has made his support known, and already we’ve begun fittings for our court dresses.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “You must tell him how grateful we are.”
“I will,” Victoria promised.
“We’ll come the next morning, after the ball, and tell you all about it,” Margaret promised, squeezing her hands.
Not once did her sister ask if Victoria would be at the soiree. The idea had never entered Margaret’s mind, and it chafed to realize it. Her own sisters were so accustomed to her absence, they would be shocked if she were to attend.
“We’ll come pay another call soon,” Margaret promised.
After her sister departed, Victoria stood staring at the piles of fabric all over the room. These represented her work, her life.
No one believed her capable of leaving this house, of becoming a duchess. Even though Jonathan had wed her with the intention of getting an heir, he, too, expected her to remain a recluse. All of them wanted to make excuses for her, instead of helping her to change.
She didn’t like it.
Yes, she was afraid. Yes, she knew others would speak unkindly of her if she tried to go. But was she supposed to remain behind closed doors for the rest of her life?
I don’t want to, she realized. She was weary of secluding herself. Worse, she recognized that her husband would have to attend events like this one, whether he wanted to or not. She didn’t want to be left behind, for it wasn’t right.
Before she lost her courage, she walked over to the writing desk, pushing aside the pile of silk. Seizing a pen, she dipped it in the inkwell and began to write to Lady Rumford.
If she was to attend her aunt’s ball in the next few days, she would need every last piece of advice the woman could offer.
Once she had sealed up the letter, she walked downstairs and gave it to a footman to deliver. Slowly, she walked to the back of the house, toward the door that led outside to the garden.
With each step forward, her hands shook, but she managed to touch the knob, opening it. Outside, it was raining, the droplets spattering against the stone fountain. The walled garden held no blooms of spring, for it was too early. But she forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, steeling herself against the rain.
The wetness washed over her hair and cheeks, sliding down to dampen her skin. One step. Then another. She raised her face upward, forcing herself to welcome the rain. To accept the coldness and recognize it for what it was—the freedom she’d been too afraid to seize.
She rested her palms upon the stone fountain, never minding that her knees were shaking and she should have brought a pelisse to wear over her gown.
I will do this, she vowed. She would force herself to walk outside each day and spend more and more time in the garden until she defeated the enemy of her fear.
When she glanced behind her at the house, she saw her husband standing at an upstairs window, silently watching.
Victoria stared down at her dinner plate, her stomach in so many knots, it might as well have knitted itself into a scarf. “Am I doing the right thing?”
“Of course you are,” Lady Rumford said. The matron stood, waiting for Victoria to join her. “Now we must see to your attire. Mary has prepared your gown, and we’ll make you so beautiful, London will be agog at its newest duchess.”
Victoria followed Melanie above stairs, feeling wretched that she’d ever agreed to this. Although Lady Rumford had drilled every etiquette lesson possible into her brain, she couldn’t remember all of them.
But it’s Aunt Charlotte’s ball, she reminded herself. It was family, and… likely it wouldn’t be so bad. Her aunt would smooth over any mistakes she made.
Over the next hour, Mary and Lady Rumford dressed her in a short-sleeved emerald gown of India muslin, trimmed with gold. It draped in folds over her shoulders and down her back, leading to a demi-train. White gloves encased her arms, and she wore a lace tippet around her shoulders. The diamond and pearl necklace hung at her throat, and the largest teardrop pearl nestled just above the square neckline. Mary had threaded green ribbon into her hair, and she’d parted Victoria’s hair in the center, snipping curls on either side of her forehead in the latest fashion.
“You look exquisite.” Lady Rumford sighed. “And your late entrance will be so dramatic.”
“I’m scared,” she confessed. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Though she’d kept the promise to herself, spending more and more time in the garden, attending this ball was something else entirely.
“I shall accompany you,” Lady Rumford promised. “I’ve known Charlotte for years, and I, too, was invited to this soiree.”
“What about the duke?” she ventured. Her husband had not agreed to go with her, and she questioned the wisdom of going alone. Though he would not deny her the right to see her sisters, she suspected he would not attend either.
“His Grace has not attended any public gatherings since my sister—” Lady Rumford took a breath and amended, “That is, he hasn’t attended anything in a long time.”
Victoria recalled the pile of unanswered invitations and Jonathan’s insistence that they would not go to any balls or assemblies. “Will he go with us tonight, do you think?”
Lady Rumford’s expression turned sympathetic. “It doesn’t matter, Your Grace. We will go together, and enjoy ourselves whether he does or not.”
Victoria wanted to believe it, but she had no way of knowing how the evening would go. Although she’d attended parties with her parents as a young girl, she’d never worn a dress as beautiful as this one, nor diamonds. She managed a weak smile as Mary helped her into her pelisse. “Thank you for helping me prepare for this.”
“It was no trouble.” Lady Rumford smiled. “I hope you have a wonderful time. But regardless, I trust you will succeed magnificently.”
Her confidence was shaky, and as she accompanied Lady Rumford to the front door, fear struck hard. For a moment, she stood on the stairs of the house, the terror of the past sinking into her veins.
You can’t control your fear, Jonathan had said. But you can control how you respond to it.
“Are you all right?” Melanie asked, her face concerned.
Victoria took a deep breath, forcing herself to walk outside the door, toward the waiting carriage. She wouldn’t allow herself to falter or run away. Not when she’d come this far. Each step was like climbing a steep mountain, but when at last she was inside the landau, she questioned whether this was a good idea.
Lady Rumford filled the silence with conversation, reminding Victoria of how she would be announced, of the various rules of introduction, and how she was to remain aloof. Rather like a princess.
The clenching in her stomach spread a chill throughout her body, the icy nerves possessing her. Beneath her skirts, her knees were trembling, and God in heaven, why had she ever thought she could do this? She wasn’t at all ready.
“Your sisters will be glad to see you,” Lady Rumford reminded her kindly. The matron reached out and took her hand. “And I know your mother would be proud of you.”
They were the words she’d needed to hear. She took a deep breath, realizing that this night was not about proving anything to Jonathan. Nor to anyone else. It was about seizing control of her own doubts, stifling the insecurities that held her back.
It was for herself.
And though her knees were shaking beneath the India muslin gown, as she trudged up the stairs, she promised herself that she would succeed in this. Somehow.
“Why, Victoria, what a wonderful surprise.” Her aunt Charlotte’s face broke into a smile as she came into the hall to greet them. “Forgive me. I meant Your Grace.” She smiled and embraced her. Victoria wondered if Aunt Charlotte could sense the rapid pounding of her heart. “I’m so glad you decid
ed to attend.”
Her anxieties trebled, and she gripped her hands together, wondering if Jonathan would come. He’d gone out earlier this evening, and she wasn’t certain if he had any intention of accompanying her.
“And Lady Rumford, so good to see you.” Charlotte welcomed the older matron while the footman closed the door behind them, taking their pelisses.
The two older women exchanged pleasantries, and Charlotte explained, “The dancing has begun, if you’d like to join us.”
“Go on without me,” Victoria directed Lady Rumford. “I would like to speak to my aunt for a moment.”
When they were alone, Charlotte eyed her with curiosity. “I haven’t seen you since you were seventeen,” she remarked. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”
Victoria murmured her thanks. Though she desperately wanted to be a part of the family gathering, she needed a moment to collect herself before facing them. “It-It’s been a long time since I’ve attended a soiree, Aunt. Might I watch from the doorway for a short while? Just to remember what it’s like, before I go in?”
Understanding came over Charlotte’s face. “Of course you may. Your sisters will be so pleased to see you.” She guided her toward the large drawing room, where the sound of a string quartet filled the air with music. There was conversation and light laughter, and her aunt brought her to the edge of the doorway. “I’ll wait with you here, for as long as you like. And when you’re ready, I’ll have the footman announce you.”
“If you please,” she begged, “I’d rather not be announced. And you mustn’t neglect your guests on my behalf.” She preferred to join in quietly, with no one staring at her. Though she knew she was supposed to allow her aunt to introduce her to the other guests, shyness held her back.
Charlotte hesitated. “You shouldn’t be standing out here alone, my dear. It’s not proper.”
Victoria sent her aunt a rueful smile and rested her back against the wall. “I’ll only be a moment, I promise.”
But instead of leaving her behind, Charlotte moved beside her and offered a gloved hand. “I know your mother could not be here tonight, so I’ll stand in for my sister.” She squeezed Victoria’s hand. “All of this is more than you are used to, I know.”
“I feel as if everyone will stare at me, seeing only my faults.”
Charlotte continued to hold her hand. “I won’t allow anyone to speak a word against you. And I think His Grace would be proud of you.”
“Is he here?” she asked, hoping that her husband had arrived.
But her aunt only shook her head. “None of us expected him to come.” With a wry smile, she added, “He rarely does.”
The observation bothered her, and now Victoria was having second thoughts about being here. She took a deep breath, risking a glance inside at the dozens of people. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come, if he won’t be here.”
Her aunt chose her words carefully. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you?”
The question startled her, and Victoria wasn’t certain how to answer. She’d wanted to change herself, to stop hiding away. But there was another reason, one easier to speak of to her aunt. “For my sisters.”
It was partly the truth, but not all. She’d also wanted to prove to her husband that she could conquer her fears. Because of him, she’d had a reason to venture past the closed doors of her life. And if she ever wanted them to have a true marriage, she needed to meet him halfway. “I also came for my husband, the duke.”
“Being a duchess isn’t only about wearing expensive gowns and hosting parties,” Charlotte continued. “It’s about loving your husband enough to get through them. Heaven knows, my husband Nelson would rather be flayed alive than attend all the balls he’s escorted me to. But he knows I enjoy dancing, and he endures it for my sake.”
Her aunt reached out and touched Victoria’s cheek. “Whether or not His Grace decides to come, try to enjoy yourself. Don’t be afraid of what others will think. Simply be here for Margaret and Juliette.”
“I wish I weren’t so terrified of what’s beyond that door,” she confessed.
“There is no woman in that ballroom better than you, my dear.” Charlotte stood from the stairs and reached out her hand. “Come, now.”
“Go in without me,” Victoria urged. “I’ll follow in a moment, I promise.”
Her aunt gave her hand a squeeze and smiled in acknowledgment. “If you don’t, I’ll come back to fetch you.”
Victoria peered into the room, watching the colorful gowns swirl as the men and women began an English country dance. Her sister Margaret appeared delighted to be among the women, and from her skill in dancing, it was clear that she had practiced the steps. Juliette faltered somewhat, and Amelia stood against one wall with another matron, as if wishing she could join in.
One step, then another.
Victoria entered the room, but her attempt to remain unnoticed utterly failed. The moment she stepped inside, several heads turned. She searched the room for her sisters, but as she made her way toward them, the women stared at her, murmuring behind their fans.
Blood rushed to her face, and she focused her attention on the floor. Fainting would do her no good. She had to get through this, no matter how uncomfortable she was.
It took endless minutes to make her way across the room. She was conscious of her appearance, but she raised her chin and tried to behave as if she belonged here. Aunt Charlotte joined her and began introducing her to the guests. Once the people learned who she was, she heard the word Duchess spread across the room like a wildfire.
“Your Grace, I was just telling my friends all about your elopement with Worthingstone. It was terribly romantic, was it not?”
Victoria managed a nod and a forced smile, but other women started to approach for an introduction. Her sisters had caught sight of her, and the look of joy on Amelia’s face gave Victoria a renewed strength. She would not embarrass herself or her husband. A smile and proper manners were all she needed to survive this night.
She spoke to each of the people, though she doubted if she would remember any of their names in an hour. After a few more introductions, she saw a woman staring at her. Though she did not approach Victoria, her eyes held a shadow of anger. Without looking away, the woman murmured to the person beside her, and it was clear that Victoria was the subject of their conversation.
She squared her shoulders, refusing to let it bother her. Charlotte continued to bring her closer to Margaret and Juliette, but before she could reach her sisters, a hand came down on her shoulder.
“Your Grace,” came her husband’s voice. When she turned and saw Jonathan, the sight of him stole her breath. His black tailcoat outlined his tall form, the snowy white cravat bringing her attention to his face. He wore dark breeches and his gaze fastened upon her as if she weren’t quite real.
“You were not at home when I returned.”
“No. I needed to be here for my sisters.”
He took her hand in his and led her away from the others, not caring that it might seem rude. “Are you all right?”
“I can’t quite breathe,” she admitted. “I never thought I would make it this far.”
He moved to stand beside her. “You’re beautiful, Duchess.” She felt the warmth of his hand upon the clasp of her necklace, before his palm slid down her back. “It’s rather like walking outside for the first time, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I’m afraid of what they think of me,” she admitted. “But I wanted to be here.”
His hand tightened upon her shoulder. “They won’t dare to say a word.” His voice grew soft, almost menacing in tone. “My fortune is ten times that of nearly everyone in this room. If they speak out against you, they will regret doing so.”
She tilted her head to face him. “Money won’t change the way people think or feel, Your Grace.”
“You’re wrong.” He nodded toward the crowd. “It’s all they care about.” His voice grew hollow when he admi
tted, “Even you wouldn’t have married me, were it not for my ability to support the crofters.”
The bitterness in his tone shocked her, for she’d never realized how he’d come to believe that. It wasn’t at all true and never had been. She reached out to take his hand, choosing her words carefully.
“That isn’t true. I was afraid to marry you.” All her life she’d wanted to meet someone like him, but she’d never believed it would happen. She tightened her hold upon his hand.
“Money is all that matters. It’s power, Victoria. And without it, no one cares who you are.”
Jonathan led his wife toward her sisters, knowing the young women would help put Victoria at ease. He still couldn’t believe she had left the house. Gone was the quiet, reticent woman who’d never ventured out of her room. In her place was a stunning creature, clad in an emerald gown, her hair curled and bedecked with matching green ribbon. She was easily the most beautiful woman there, and her shyness only added to her mysterious allure.
Victoria held his hand tightly, and Jonathan led her to stand on the far side of the drawing room. He sensed her panic building, and he demanded, “Breathe, Victoria. It’s going to be all right. We’ll pay our respects and then go.”
She took a breath and eyed him. “Promise you won’t ask me to dance.” The terror in her face was the same he’d seen when she’d approached the front door.
“Pretend you’re walking with me outside in the snow,” he said. “There’s no one here but me.”
“That isn’t helping,” she insisted. But he squeezed her hand and leaned in against her ear.
“I’m imagining what color your unmentionables are, at this moment. And whether or not you’ll let me take them off of you when we get home.”
Her face turned scarlet, but she was saved from a response when he brought her to her sisters. Seeing Amelia and Juliette brightened his wife’s face. As they chattered, her youngest sister exclaiming her excitement, relief transformed Victoria’s expression. She warmed at the sight of them, and there was love in her eyes.
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