Chapter 24
Owen wished that he had been able to maintain his composure, but the more Beatrice spoke, the more he thought of the dangers surrounding them.
It was true that things falling from trees hurt a good deal; his mother had received no end of bruises that way, but he knew it would not be lethal. Once more, he had to battle that part of him that insisted that he had to be afraid of everything that came his way.
Rather, he had to be afraid of everything that could happen to Beatrice.
When he said it to himself in so many words, he felt foolish. Beatrice was not a girl, and she was more than capable of making the right decisions for herself, but that did not stop the awful visions he had of harm being brought to her. Nothing ever did.
Regardless, he had to push those thoughts aside, at least for the night. They had a ball to attend, and he wished for the event to pass with as few annoyances as possible.
“She will be fine,” Mrs. Forsythe said as he waited for Beatrice. “She is far more capable than she is given credit for.”
“I know that, but it is not Beatrice I am concerned about. It is everyone else in attendance. I have seen such a change in her, and I want the ton to see that side of her, rather than the one that is afraid to speak.”
“And it will be so. You know that your position alone commands respect. They will not say a single word against either of you.”
“I know that my position means that it should not happen, not that it will not. Lady Pembroke is not the sort of host I would have wanted for the first ball, and had I known about Beatrice’s family I would have waited. I should have spoken to her first, or at least her friends.”
“Well, you cannot change it now. You have accepted the invitation, and she is adamant that you both attend. All that is left to do now is trust your wife and believe that nothing bad will happen.”
All that Owen had wanted for years was to believe that nothing bad would happen, and yet somehow that was always what happened. He steeled himself for the inevitable, and as he did so his wife appeared.
In an instant, his fears left him. It was only for a moment, but when he saw her in her gown, the one she had helped to design, smiling and ready, he believed that all would be well.
Her hair was styled in a way that he had never seen before, but that he knew had to be in fashion, and though he had never cared for it himself, he admired her effort, and he knew the other guests would feel the same.
Remnants of that day’s encounter seemed to vanish, and when she took his arm, he truly believed that the night would be wonderful.
“You look marvelous,” he whispered in her ear, admiring the way her cheeks flushed.
They boarded the carriage, and he noticed that her hands were folded in her lap, her thumbs crossing over one another in quick motions.
She was nervous, and he wished that there was something he could do to help her.
She already knew that it was unlikely they would receive scorn, and it seemed that she believed that as much as he did.
“Beatrice,” he said calmly, “you know that I will always protect you, do you not?”
“I do, perhaps a little too much, even.”
“I apologize for this afternoon. You are right. I should be honest with you, and I will be when–”
“You were right. Now is not the time for this conversation. Let us finish the night, and then we can discuss all of this in the morning. For now, I am far too busy thinking about what to say to be able to listen to you.”
Satisfied, he let the matter go. Even so, he did not like how ill at ease she appeared. She had done everything right, and she looked exquisite.
“Is it me?” he asked, eyeing his own clothing. “I chose one of my favorites, though it pales in comparison to what you have.”
“You look handsome,” she giggled. “No, we certainly look the part. I suppose it is simply nerves at this being my first ball in a long time. Once we are inside, and I have greeted our hosts and we have danced, I shall feel better.”
Owen listened to what she wished to do and made a note of it. He would take her inside, greet the hosts, and then dance with her. If, by then, she still seemed unhappy, they would retire for the night on the spot.
When the carriage arrived, Owen remembered precisely why he hated such grand affairs.
The trees in the courtyard had been painted white on top, as though to mimic snow, and there was an ice sculpture in the middle of it. It was a swan, which Owen did not find fit the theme particularly well, but Beatrice gasped in astonishment and pulled him in the direction of it.
“How marvelous!” she breathed. “I have never seen anything quite like it.”
“Swans?” he asked. “We have them in London.”
“Made of ice,” she giggled, suddenly tensing. “My word, they must have high expectations for tonight.”
“It is how they are, but you shall blend in beautifully. Come, we must enter now.”
Inside, they were greeted by a similar theme. Everything was icy silver and blue, the ladies wearing gowns to match. Owen was pleased that Beatrice had assumed correctly, and that the two of them stood out just as she had planned.
Beatrice, on the other hand, did not seem half as enthusiastic.
“What is it?” he asked. “Is this not what you wanted?”
“It is, but now I am wondering if you missed something on the invitation that instructed us to wear blue and silver. There is nobody at all wearing anything else.”
“Nonsense, knowing Lady Pembroke, I read it three times just to ensure I did not misunderstand anything. You have done nothing wrong.”
Mercifully, at that moment another lady entered wearing pink, and he felt Beatrice sigh in relief beside him.
Watching her, he wondered if that was how he looked when he was nervous about something.
He had always thought that he hid it well, but if it was that evident then he had to rethink it all entirely.
“Now that we are here,” he continued, “we must meet the host. Then, all that is left to do is dance, yes?”
She smiled, nodding as he led her through to the ballroom.
The ceiling had what seemed to be a hundred candles hanging from it, the room smelling of pine trees and wood fires.
The floor had been painted with snowflakes, and among it all was Lord and Lady Pembroke, greeting their guests with a smile.
Owen, cynically, saw the smugness in Lady Pembroke’s face, but he did not mention it.
Instead, he took his wife to greet them.
He had to leave her to speak, for there were only so many polite words he had for Lady Pembroke.
It was a shame, because he rather considered Lord Pembroke to be excellent company.
“Good evening,” Beatrice greeted. “This is all so magnificent! Truly, it is the most splendid ball that I have ever had the pleasure of attending.”
“You are too kind, Your Grace,” Lord Pembroke replied. “I have no doubt that when you host your own ball, it shall be far superior.”
“Ah, yes,” Lady Pembroke agreed. “When might we expect that?”
“It will be soon enough,” Owen said. “It might be best to appreciate this evening first, before we discuss others.”
Lady Pembroke seemed to accept this, and the greeting was done with.
“It is nice to meet you,” Lord Pembroke continued, only addressing Beatrice. “It is most exciting to have a new duchess here with us. This is your first public appearance as a couple, yes?”
“Indeed. We look forward to many more, of course, but you are the first since our honeymoon came to an end.”
“Oh, remember our honeymoon, Dear?” he asked Lady Pembroke, who simply nodded with a meek smile. “Congratulations, to you both. We are thrilled to host you, and we hope that you have an excellent evening.”
As they walked away, Owen was relieved that the discussion was as easy as it had been. They left for the dance floor, awaiting the first song of the evening, when Beatrice laughed softly.
“I was expecting far worse than that,” she explained. “Mrs. Forsythe made it seem as though Lady Pembroke had barbed wire for teeth, or a knife for a tongue.”
“She usually does, but it is as I told you. As a duchess, she cannot say a thing against you. This will be a good night, and that will only be proven once you and I have danced.”
Before the music could begin, however, another young couple joined them. Owen did not recognize them, and it seemed that Beatrice did not either.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” the young lady said to Beatrice. “It is so nice to meet you. My name is Lady Redfern, and this is my husband.”
They introduced one another, and though Owen was often slow to trust people, they seemed nice enough for him to be comfortable.
“I wanted to tell you that your gown is incredible,” she explained. “It is by far my favorite of the night. If I may, might you be able to give me the name of your seamstress? I am hoping that she is in London.”
“Alas, she is the dressmaker who lives in our village. Her name is Madame Dupont, and she truly is magical.”
“Oh, that is such a shame. I may just have to visit your village and frequent her shop; else I might steal her away entirely and have her move to London!”
“I truly cannot believe that she is not there already. She is most talented, and she would be able to make a name for herself there. Granted, I am far happier that she is with us in the village.”
Owen and Lord Redfern turned away to have their own conversation, for though Owen liked to listen to his wife, the subject of gowns was not particularly thrilling to him. Lord Redfern seemed to be of the same opinion.
“A married man,” Lord Redfern nodded. “How has it been?”
“Enlightening, certainly. I was not expecting to be as happy as I am now.”
“Yes, well, given the circumstances, it has all been quite the surprise. The forbidden love match that succeeded, from what my wife has told me.”
It had been so long that Owen had forgotten that that was the story they had told. He chuckled, prepared to play the part.
“Yes, well, I am pleased that it all happened the way that it did. My wife knew what the right thing to do was, and she made herself known.”
“And it worked in her favor. Might you know what became of your other betrothed? My wife tells me they were friends.”
“They were, and Lady Helena was most happy for the two of us. She has gone to visit her aunt in the North for a while, so that she can consider what she wants in a marriage, and she will return soon if all goes well.”
“Good. It has been plaguing Lady Redfern that a lady has gone unaccounted for since everything happened. She will be glad to know that Lady Helena is happy after all.”
“She was never sad. All three of us knew that it was wrong, and that an old arrangement paled in comparison to the love that my wife and I share .It was simply my wife who had the courage to say it.”
They turned to see that the ladies had been listening. Lady Redfern smiled softly at them, and Beatrice’s cheeks were pink even beneath the rouge. At that moment, the music began, which meant only one thing.
It was time to dance.
Owen took Beatrice’s gloved hand, and they made their way to the dance floor.
Around them, people left a space and there were plenty of people that approached only to watch them.
It was a waltz, a scandalous dance which did not bode well when their situation was as precarious as it was, but in that moment Owen did not care.
He placed a hand on Beatrice’s waist, and they danced together.
It was a closeness that he relished, for they had not danced since the day they practiced in their own ballroom. She felt exquisite in his hands, and he wished that the music would play for hours.
“Is this what you were hoping for?” he asked.
“It is indeed,” she replied. “Though I would have preferred to have less eyes on us.”
“Why? You are worth looking at, you know.”
It was true. Yes, her gown was a work of art, but if Beatrice was not beautiful in her own right, then it would have overtaken her. Instead, she shone, and even if everyone there had worn something of equal quality, she would have been the most beautiful lady there.
“I suppose I am afraid,” she said softly as he spun her around, “that if they look at me too closely, they will not like what they see, and then the rumors will spread regardless of who I am.”
“Well, you need not be concerned about that. In two conversations, you have made a better showing for yourself than anyone I have ever known.”
She giggled as he pulled her close again.
“It does not help that I have not attended a ball alone before,” she explained. “When I debuted, I had my friends, and then as they were all married off, I met Lady Helena, and then I was not alone again.”
“And yet, you are still not alone,” he replied, “for I am here.”
“Indeed,” she whispered. “You are here, and I cannot believe how fortunate I am for that.”
He believed her, but he wondered all the same just what she could have done if she had not been forced to marry him.
Had she let his marriage to Lady Helena go ahead, everything would have been completely different, and he would be married to a lady that had a secret life.
At the time, he believed that arrangement would satisfy him, yet now the mere idea made him recoil.
He was meant to marry the lady in front of him, and he loved that she had dared to cause it. He appreciated that she was willing to do what was necessary to protect those she loved.
He was beginning, he feared, to love her, too.