Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What time will you be home?” Hugh asked Yvette.
“I am not sure.”
“What time are you leaving?” he asked next.
“I… I assume early evening. But I am not sure.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“A dress, I suspect,” she said.
“But you don’t know?”
Yvette eyed Hugh flatly. “Is there a point to all these questions?”
“Just that you d -- don’t seem to know much about anything.” Hugh’s grin was mischievous. “Are you sure that you are attending a ball tonight?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you think that I am lying?”
“Maybe…”
“And what would be the point of that?”
He shrugged. “You t -- tell me. You’re the one who is making it up.”
“I am not!” she laughed.
It was the day of the ball, and despite every good sense that Yvette had inside of her screaming that she should be terrified at what the night might bring, she would be lying to herself if she said that she was not excited for it.
Oh yes, she had been rather terrified at first. For the entire day, following her invitation, she had gone through a list of excuses detailing why she could not go with the Duke. She was feeling sick. She had nothing to wear. She would only embarrass them both, and so on.
Once she listed off those excuses and determined that none of them would do, she allowed herself a glimmer of hope… that fleeting sense that her dreams were coming true and the night of the ball might just be the best of her life so far.
Some of it was the chance to rub shoulders with the peerage and to steal a glimpse into their world.
But most of it was the obvious thrill she felt at being given a chance to spend more time with the Duke.
A night free of the manor, escaped from work and expectation, and in a setting that would allow them to be real with one another in ways that they hadn’t been yet.
What does that even mean? To be real? It is not as if the Duke and I do not spend enough time together as it is. Why should a ball be any different?
Of course, she knew the answer to that, just as she refused to ponder on that answer for too long… just in case.
“Do you like spending time with my father?” Hugh asked her suddenly.
Yvette started at the question. “I… what do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged and turned shy. “I was just curious, what you thought of him.”
“What I think of him? In what way?”
Again, he shrugged, and he looked down at his feet. The two of them walked through the back garden, taking advantage of the morning sun, and he kicked a pebble off the path as they went. “He is kinder than I thought he would be… not as mean as he looked when we first met.”
Yvette laughed at the comment. She had thought the same of the Duke when they first met, likening him to a monster torn from the pages of a fairytale, and certainly not someone with whom she might find a companionship that went beyond anything that she had before with another man.
Even his scars don’t scare me the way that they used to…
“Looks are certainly deceiving,” she agreed. “But I think we can both agree that your father is far kinder than he lets on. More honest too… There is a softer side to him, and I see it more each day.”
“I guess…” Hugh scrunched his face, and she could see doubt flicker behind his eyes.
“Hugh.” Yvette came to a stop on the path. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said a little too quickly.
“Hugh,” she said again, this time folding her arms. “What is on your mind? And do not lie to me. I think we both know how hopeless you are at lying.”
The young boy grimaced with embarrassment as he came to a stop.
Standing at the back of the garden, he looked beyond where Yvette stood, back toward the manor, specifically at the window that peered into his father’s office.
His dark eyes squinted as he watched the office window, and his jaw tightened.
“I… like him well,” Hugh started cautiously, weighing up each word spoken. “And he is kind and good to me. Better than I deserve.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “You deserve everything you get, Hugh.”
“Maybe.” He looked away from the window and kicked at the path. “Please, do not tell him this bu – but I have been thinking about us lately. I… I like him, as I said. I am also so gr -- grateful for everything that he has done.”
“Yes…”
Hugh looked at Yvette, and his eyes glistened as if from withheld tears. “But he is not my father.”
She balked. “What?”
He winced. “I mean, he is. I know that he is. Only… it does n -- not feel like it. It is st -- stupid, probably. I don’t even know what…” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “When we are together, it does not feel how I thought it would.”
“And how should it feel?”
“I do – do – don’t know.” He sounded angry at the notion. “It just doesn’t, is all.”
Yvette had no idea what to say to that.
I wish I could tell him that he is wrong, or that those feelings would come. But what do I know of such things? And what does the Duke know of them, too?
She spent the rest of the morning with Hugh, doing her best to keep his mood level, while sensing the doubt that plagued him.
All she wanted was to make Hugh feel better and to assure him that those feelings would change as they grew closer together, but she also did not want to lie to the poor boy.
The Duke was good to Hugh. He was kind. He was warm. He was also eager to be the father that he had not been for the first eight years of Hugh’s life. But was it enough? And if not, what could he do that was different?
Needless to say, when Yvette retired to her room shortly before lunch, she was as confused as ever. So confused, in fact, that when she walked into her room and saw a stunning gown lying on her bed, she started at the sight, thinking that she had wandered into the wrong room.
“What on earth…”
The gown was like something out of a dream.
Its color was somewhere between blue and silver, and with the way it caught the light, it shimmered like the purest of waters in a deep blue pond.
The stitching was silver also, while the filigree pattern that swirled up the dress was golden and spread like autumn leaves in full bloom.
Yvette hesitated when she saw the gown. It was her room, of that there was no doubt, but what was such a perfect gown doing on her bed?
She looked around the room quickly, half expecting someone to appear and tell her that a terrible mistake had been made. Of course, there was no one, and when she took a step closer to her bed, she spied a note beside the gown.
For tonight, just in case your other dresses don’t fit you…
A smile touched her lips. She picked up the note, read the simple message again, and it was as if a fire spread from that single piece of parchment and through her limbs until it wrapped around her heart.
In all the excitement, Yvette had not seriously considered what she would wear to the ball.
In truth, a part of her was prepared for something to happen that would cancel the evening.
Her invitation was made in haste; it had not seemed real, and surely the Duke would find an excuse to deny her going.
Now, she knew without question that tonight would go ahead as planned. More than that, she knew that the Duke wanted her to go. He had bought her this dress; he wished for her to wear it, and he clearly expected her to look the part as they walked through the ballroom together.
“What is that?” a voice cried from the doorway.
Yvette started and spun about, then she smiled to see the cook, Lucinda, rushing into the room. She held her pregnant belly as she came, waddling across the floor awkwardly because her baby was surely due soon, and she must have been in extreme discomfort.
“Oh, Lucinda, you scared me.”
“Never mind that.” Lucinda made for the gown, her eyes wide in surprise. “Is that… where did that come from?” She half reached out to touch it, but hesitated as if it might burn her.
Yvette blushed furiously. “His Grace. He bought it for me to wear.”
“He did not!” she cried in shock.
“He most certainly did.”
Lucinda was rendered speechless, which was a rare thing for the loudmouthed cook. She looked from the dress to Yvette with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open, confusion filtering behind those eyes as she struggled to comprehend what was going on.
“His Grace bought you… Yvette, this is… I do not even know what to say!”
Yvette shrugged as if to dismiss the excitement. “It is no big thing, Lucinda. No doubt His Grace knows that I do not have anything to wear tonight, and as he is escorting me, he did not wish for me to embarrass him.”
“Maybe…” She bit into her lip as she eyed the dress.
“Not maybe. It is a simple enough reason.”
“Yvette, I don’t think you understand.” She gave her head a shake to clear it and looked at Yvette again; still, shock was written clearly across her chubby features.
“To buy you a simple gown is one thing, that I understand. But this…” She eyed the dress again.
“This is more than a mere gift, and it is certainly beyond something a Duke would buy their governess. This is…” She licked her lips. “I am not sure.”
The chance that Yvette might dismiss the meaning of this dress was becoming harder and harder to do. Like Lucinda, she suspected the significance of what this gown might mean, but unlike Lucinda, she was not willing to voice it.
On the surface of her intrepid feelings, she told herself that it was as she had said time and time again. The Duke was just being kind, while ensuring that, as his guest, she looked the part.
A simple enough explanation… even if it feels hollow.
Deep within her conscience, where her heart beat and her excitement piqued, Yvette dared to wonder at what this gown truly meant. It was more than a gift. It was more than a tactical purchase. It was, by her estimation, an announcement to the world.
The Duke did not just want her as his guest tonight; there as friends and nothing more. He wanted her by his side so that the world could see them together. And if that was true, then it meant…
Easy, Yvette, do not get ahead of yourself. It is only a gown!
But was it just a gown? Again, all the evidence presented to her suggested otherwise, and the longer that she considered it, the harder the truth was to deny.
What was once a dream now looked as if it might be a reality, and while Yvette did her best to remain humble and not get ahead of herself… the way that gown shimmered, the way it shone and sang for her, made that rather hard to do.
Like it or not, tonight promised to change everything.