Chapter Four
Nell was being poked with pins, wrapped in silk velvet and whalebone until she wanted to scream at how ridiculous it all was. But she couldn’t scream about it; that would upset her mother, who just wanted to be accepted, perhaps more than Nell ever had.
So Nell sat on the scream, on the frustration, on the thing that felt like, but couldn’t possibly be, fear, and made herself smile at her mother.
“You look a treat, Eleanore,” her mother was smiling and had tears in her eyes. “Like a proper lady.”
“It should be you, Mama.” Nell looked down at the white velvet and the baby blue silk ribbons and flinched. “You know I will spill something on this and it’s as much as our old home.”
“You absolutely will not,” her mother narrowed her eyes at Nell. “You will be graceful and careful and someone will see you and fall for you immediately.”
“That’s daft.” Nell couldn’t swallow the words fast enough, and they escaped. “Sorry, Mama, but I’m no Lady and these society people are going to pick up on that from the first.”
“You could at least try, Nellie,” her mother sighed. “Once you’re done, come for luncheon. We have company today.”
Nell shook her head after her mother had closed the door behind her. “This is—” she stopped, looking down at the seamstress. “It is what it is, I suppose.”
“Quite right, miss.” The seamstress undid the pins and removed Nell from the gown. “The fitting is all in, I will take this back to Moonstone and will have it for you tomorrow by noon.”
“Thank you very much.” Nell stepped off the pouf and reached for her dress, shrugging back into it and moving to go down to luncheon, and then froze.
Her mother said they had a guest, which meant that Nell couldn’t wear this dress. She needed to change before she went down, and that meant dragging one of the maids in to help her.
The maid she managed to snag was one she’d worked with before and Mary had her dressed and her hair managed in no time.
There were low voices coming from the sitting room, and Nell paused outside to see if she could figure out who was there. Her mother was, and, strangely, her father, who ought to be at his work.
But the other two voices were unfamiliar, so Nell set her shoulders and rounded the corner, pinning a smile to her lips. “Pardon my lateness, Mama, Papa.”
“Eleanor, come and greet our guests.” Her father stood and came to take her hand. “Duke and Duchess Graves, this is our daughter Eleanore.”
“A pleasure, dear,” Duchess Graves said with a smile. “Come and sit; tell us about yourself.”
There were so many things that Nell wasn’t about to tell these people. “I’m near certain I would bore you to nothing, your Grace. I am fair with the harp and with my needle.”
“The harp is a lovely instrument,” Duchess Graves looked towards the harp in the corner. “Is that yours?”
“I call her Greta,” Nell said, flicking a look up at her mother, who was giving her an approving smile.
“Will you play for us, Miss Eleanore?” Duke Graves asked quietly.
“It would be my pleasure.” Nell rose from the sofa and went to the low chair behind her harp. It had been her birthday gift from her father last year, and it was a beautiful piece of workmanship and one of Nell’s prized possessions.
Nell laid her fingers on the strings and tried to think of what to play. They seemed like they would appreciate something slower, but Nell had trained on Lake Country music.
“Would you like to hear anything in particular, Your Grace?” Nekll looked at Duchess Graves.
“I don’t suppose you know the Sunrise Hymn?” Duchess Graves asked.
“My pleasure.” Nell turned her eyes back to the strings and started playing. It was her passion, the harp, and she used to pester her neighbor to borrow hers before her father had been elevated.
Nell played the hymn to the end and looked at her father, who nodded with a secret little smile.
Nell flipped the levers on the harp and launched into a Lake Country reel. Duchess Graves looked startled, but Duke Graves looked suddenly pleased.
And her father was bobbing along with the music. That was why she’d learned all of this, to help her papa with his stress levels while he’d been struggling so during the war. She’d helped him with far more than a bit of music, but even her Mama didn’t know that.
And then Mary knocked on the doorframe and announced luncheon with a curtsy.
Nell stilled the strings, put the levers back into position and rose, tucking her harp back into the corner and putting the dust sheet back on.
Her father escorted Duchess Graves; her mama was escorted by the Duke, and Nell followed like a terribly awkward extra wheel.
Luncheon was horribly polite, but that was what her Mama would have wanted. Duchess Graves seemed strangely interested in Nell, asking her all sorts of questions and, once luncheon was over, pulling her to one side out of earshot of her mother.
“Come for tea tomorrow, dear.” Duchess Graves smiled at her. “I would like to discuss something with you.”
“Yes, your Grace, I would be happy to.” She flicked a look over towards her mother.
“Your Mama is welcome of course,” Duchess Graves said. “After all, we must discuss your coming out, as I have agreed to have Duke Graves sponsor you.”
“Your Grace, that is too generous.” Nell nearly fell over. Her mama had been worried about that for weeks, and to have a duke sponsor her would open so many doors to her mama. “Thank you so much.”
Duchess Graves patted her on the head and smiled, leaning close. “Your papa is a hero to the nation; it is the least I can do.”