Chapter 1 #2
Dorothy stopped abruptly and looked up at the stars, as if seeking answers from their glow.
“Honestly, Lucy, I don’t know if I can keep this up much longer.
My heart races, my stomach’s an utter mess, and I’m pretty sure I’ve aged at least ten years in the past week.
Maybe I should just confess and be done with it.
Although knowing my luck, that would probably backfire too. ”
“Dorothy! Stop,” Lucy said, seemingly amused. “You’re doing it again.”
Dorothy paused to look at her. “Doing what?”
“Prattling,” Lucy said, cutting in with a patient smile as she took a deep breath. “Maybe I need to refresh your memory about why all of this is happening in the first place. Why are we doing this?”
For a moment, Dorothy stared at the high garden wall, as though considering whether she might simply scale it and flee London altogether. Her breath left her in a sigh. “Because Lord Hensley refuses to leave me alone,” she said at last. The words tasted bitter in her mouth.
The truth, or at least the version she could bear to admit aloud, still troubled her so much every time it crossed her mind, regardless of the fact that she had probably thought about it over a thousand times.
Lord Hensley was an old friend of her father, Howard, and the very embodiment of everything Dorothy wished to avoid in a husband.
He was pompous, persistent, and fond of recounting hunting stories in which he was always the hero.
He had been visiting far too often these past weeks, strolling through their drawing room with the proprietary air of a man who believed a wedding was merely a formality.
Her father had not been himself these past months.
The household had learned to move more quietly and to speak in gentler tones, for the very sound of raised voices seemed to tire him.
Howard was ill, and because of this, he was a bit too eager to see her settled, and Hensley’s interest had seemed a convenient solution.
Dorothy had no intention of marrying Lord Hensley, yet her father, Howard, was insistent on her doing so. The thought of being trapped in a union not of her choosing was intolerable, but a lady could not simply refuse without causing an uproar.
Dorothy exhaled, the words tumbling out before she could reconsider.
“Even though we both knew how risky this was, I cannot shake this feeling, and it is unsettling me more than it ought. I know we agreed the only way to keep Lord Hensley from pressing the match was to make him believe I was already ruined by another man. But now…” She glanced at Lucy.
“… I am not certain it was wise to choose His Grace, the Duke of Walford, as our phantom scandal. We have never even seen the man. What if the whispers about him are true?”
Lucy’s brows lifted, as though she’d been waiting for this hesitation to surface.
“Whispers? Dorothy, there are so many stories about the Duke of Walford that no one knows which to believe anymore. What we do know is this: he never leaves his estate. Even when business calls, he sends someone else to deal with it. A recluse, through and through. That, my dear, is the only rumor we can trust, and it works splendidly in our favor.”
Dorothy’s gaze dropped to the roses, and she traced a fingertip along a velvet petal. “He lives in northern England. You truly believe there is no way he could have heard this rumor already?”
Lucy gave a careless wave of her hand. “None. We are tucked in our own little corner of London, far from his notice. This is only for a short while. Once Lord Hensley decides he cannot marry you because you are ‘ruined’ and turns his attention elsewhere, we can undo the tale. All will be as it was before.”
Dorothy stopped beneath the yew arch. “What if, in the meantime, we damage an innocent man’s reputation? What if it comes back to us?”
Lucy met her gaze without flinching. “Then we will handle it. These rumors don’t affect gentlemen like they might affect you.
But I do not think the Duke of Walford will so much as hear your name before this business is done.
Just hold steady a little longer. Or are you saying you have changed your mind?
Dorothy, whatever it is that you decide to do, you know I will always support you, right? ”
Dorothy let out a soft sigh. “My mind is unchanged.”
One thing was certain. Dorothy did not want to marry Lord Hensley.
That truth had been fixed in her mind for some time, and Lucy had known it.
Between them, they had devised what had seemed, at the time, a most sensible plan to make sure of this.
If they could make society believe that Dorothy had been ruined, Lord Hensley would withdraw his interest without further argument.
The matter of who would be named in the rumor had been decided almost carelessly.
When Lucy had suggested the Duke of Walford, the name had rung faintly in Dorothy’s memory, but she had thought little of it.
London boasted an endless list of notable gentlemen whose names were whispered in drawing rooms and printed in the society pages.
The Duke of Walford was merely one of them.
She had agreed to use him because, by all accounts, no one had ever seen the man in person.
The absence of familiarity made him perfect for their purpose.
In her mind, the plan was simple. Once Lord Hensley learned that she had been compromised, he would abandon any notion of marriage to her.
She could then slip quietly into the life she had long decided upon.
She did not wish for a husband. She did not believe in love, not anymore.
Her sisters were in happy marriages, which might have convinced others, but Dorothy had convinced herself that such happiness was not meant for her.
Her path was to remain at home. She would take care of her nieces and nephews.
She would manage her father’s household, especially now that his health was failing.
There would be no romantic entanglements, no humiliations at the altar like in the books she had read, no illusions of affection that would inevitably sour.
She would be a spinster by choice, content with the duties of family.
Yet the neatness of that plan had begun to fray.
If her father insisted on pressing her into Lord Hensley’s arms, then the only way to keep her freedom was to see the rumor through to the end.
But as she stood there, the pressure of what they had set in motion pressed on her, and for the first time, she wondered if their plan would affect the other parties in their tale.
Dorothy exhaled, her fingers smoothing the folds of her skirt. “Even so, what if the plan does not work? What if Lord Hensley does not believe the whispers?”
Lucy’s eyes softened. “It will work. It is already in motion, Dorothy. All you must do is hold on until Lord Hensley sends a letter to your father, stating he cannot marry you. That will be the end of it.” She reached over and took Dorothy’s hand.
“I understand why you are agitated. It is a large rumor, but I am going to be by your side through it. Once this is over, you will recover quickly. I will see to that.”
Dorothy’s lips curved as the knot in her chest loosened. “You have always known how to make me feel better.”
The truth was, Lucy had always been there for her.
Ever since Dorothy’s elder sisters had married and gone to live on their husbands’ estates, Lucy had been her closest and dearest friend.
Dorothy could not imagine how she would have endured her debut year or the trying seasons that followed without Lucy’s laughter and steady counsel beside her.
They had grown so inseparable that acquaintances often mistook them for sisters, though Lucy was in fact her cousin, the only child of her father’s sister.
“You have been my truest ally,” Dorothy murmured, a small smile breaking through.
Lucy returned it warmly. “I always will be. Your family has always treated me like one of their own. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
Dorothy gave a small, fond laugh. “You owe us nothing.”
Lucy took her hand, and they began to stroll back to the ball.
“Now, tell me, what is your plan? If Lord Hensley is out of the question, will you truly resign yourself to being a spinster? Or will you at least give this Season an honest try? There might yet be someone worth your attention, and if you wanted…” Her eyes glinted with the spark of a conspirator.
“... we could put in more effort. Make a match against the odds.”
Dorothy shook her head. “No. That time has passed. I have no wish to exhaust myself chasing what I am not certain I even want. I only wish to take care of my own peace.”
Lucy sighed, though the corners of her mouth lifted in reluctant understanding. “Then peace you shall have, and I will make sure no one disturbs it.”
As they strolled up the stairs, Dorothy felt the tightness in her chest ease.
The anxiousness was still there, but it was no longer sharp.
It had settled into something she could bear.
With Lucy at her side and her mind settled, she would see the Season through on her own terms, determined to keep her peace and hold her head high.