Chapter 7
“Agnes, aren’t you even going to come away from the wall and make the rounds?” Dorothy pleaded. “You should allow someone to find out you’re here. If you remain by the wall, no one will know.”
“And why would I want people to find out I was here?” Agnes sipped her drink, pondering the implications. The moment her presence was recognized, it would become a topic of unflattering conversation, and who wanted that?
“I’m still surprised you were invited at all,” Violet commented. “Everyone in London knows that you usually skip these events.”
Agnes nodded. The invitations had dried up, for the most part, several years ago, and she hadn’t minded.
Parties like this one were full of people trying to sort themselves into pairs, and that was the last thing Agnes wanted any part of.
She was glad for a respite from the expectations.
Of course, her friends were surprised to see her here tonight.
Dorothy tugged lightly at her arm. “Walk about the room with me,” she said.
“We need to make ourselves available so that gentlemen will put their names on our dance cards. You may be content to stand beside the wall all night, but I am not. And if there’s one thing I know about you, Agnes, it’s that you value having a story to tell.
What will make for a better story—standing here unnoticed, or dancing with someone you never thought you would? ”
Agnes smiled. It did feel good to be so well known by her friend. Dorothy’s argument might have worked under other circumstances. “The truth is,” she said, lowering her voice slightly so that her friends had to lean in to hear what she was saying, “I’m here for someone specific.”
Violet clapped a hand to her mouth.
Dorothy’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean, you’re here for someone specific?” she demanded. “What are you saying? You’ve finally taken a fancy to someone? I never thought I would see that day!”
“A bit more than that, actually,” Agnes said. Though she had thought this moment would be difficult—that surely she would struggle with the idea of her friends seeing her as enamored of a man—she found that she was rather enjoying it now that it had come.
Dorothy is right. I do love a good story.
“As a matter of fact,” she said, relishing her audience, “I’m engaged in a courtship.”
“What!” Dorothy gasped.
“With who?” Violet asked keenly.
“The Duke of Bellmoor.”
“The man you wrote to asking to borrow Venus in the Cloister?” Dorothy asked, leaning in further. “Wait. Did he give it to you? No, never mind, don’t answer that right now. How did this happen? When did you meet him?”
“It’s thanks to you, really,” Agnes told her friend, though now she did feel a pinch of guilt. She knew full well how her alleged courtship with the duke was going to end—would Dorothy feel bad about having set the events in motion that had led to her heartbreak?
I could tell her that it isn’t real. I could always tell her that later.
But that didn’t assuage her guilt at all, because she had made such a fuss when the duke had told his friends that their arrangement was for show. Could she protest his doing that and then turn around and do the very same thing? She wasn’t sure.
She wasn’t going to do it now, at any rate. She continued her story. “I went to his house, as we discussed, to try to find the book,” she said.
“Oh, Agnes.” Violet’s tone was disapproving. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“But it paid off,” Dorothy said impatiently. “That’s how you met him?”
“Yes. He found me in his library. He was angry at first, but then I suppose he decided there was something intriguing about me. He told me I could come back and read from the book. I’m sorry that means I did it without the two of you. I know we agreed that we would share it.”
“Never mind that,” Dorothy said. “So you went back and he asked to court you?”
“Essentially,” Agnes said. “He was reluctant to leave me alone in his library—well, that made sense after the way the two of us met.” It was funny to be talking about his reticence now as a thing that made sense, given that it had irritated her so much in the moment, but if he was determined that she was to put on a show of being in love, she was going to give the best performance she could muster.
If she couldn’t convince her friends, she wouldn’t be able to convince anyone.
“We spent some time together, and by the end of it he was telling me that he wanted to see me again. And…to my surprise, I felt that I would like to see him again too. But I told him then and there that it would have to be a formal courtship. The last thing I need is to live out what was written in the scandal sheets. People gossip enough without my giving them additional fodder for it.”
“So that part wasn’t true, then?” Dorothy asked.
Violet gasped. “I don’t know how you can even ask that, Dorothy. Of course Agnes was not having an illicit affair with the duke! Even she wouldn’t go that far.”
“Even I wouldn’t?” Agnes laughed. “I’d be angry, Violet, but I suspect I probably am your most adventurous friend.”
“You are,” Violet agreed fervently.
“Never mind that,” Dorothy said. “I want to know what is true. Tell us about him! What is he like? Is he a kind man? Does he make you laugh? I always thought, Agnes, that if you were ever to become involved with a gentleman, he would have to be someone who could make you laugh.”
Agnes considered the question. “I would say the discussions we have are lively,” she said.
“He certainly challenges me. He encourages me to think. I can never rest or become lazy during conversation with him, and I enjoy that. I like that he keeps me on my toes and that I never know what he’s going to say next.
It feels adventurous, spending time with him. ”
To her surprise, that was perfectly true. She hadn’t had to lie yet in her pretense. The lies would come, she was sure, but the duke was an exciting person, and in spite of the fact that most of their conversation was arguing, she enjoyed it.
“Is this about your list?” Violet asked.
Agnes was startled. “What—what about my list?” It seemed impossible that Violet could have so easily guessed the truth of the situation—but had she?
“Everything you do is about that list,” Violet said.
“All your decisions are about checking another item off your list. Are you courting the duke because that’s on there—a courtship?
Because if that’s what you’re doing, Agnes, I must tell you, I think it’s a dreadful idea.
At best, you’ll get hurt. At worst, you’ll destroy your reputation even further by toying with a powerful man. ”
“I’m not toying with anybody,” Agnes said.
“You’re not just doing this to mark another item off that list of yours?”
“This has nothing to do with my list.” There it was—her first lie in the service of this courtship.
It had been easier than she’d thought it would be, and something inside her relaxed a little at that realization.
She would be able to do this. “I enjoy the duke. I like spending time with him. I can’t say that I know where this is going to lead for the two of us, but what I can say is that I’m grateful to be getting to know him better. ”
“So that’s why you came out tonight,” Violet said shrewdly. “You wanted to spend time with him.”
“That’s right,” Agnes said. “He’s friends with the Duke of Henshaw, and he made sure I would get an invitation.”
“But if all of this is true,” Dorothy said, “then where is he? Why doesn't he come and dance with you? If he went to all the trouble to get you invited to this event, surely he wants to dance, and yet as far as I’m aware I haven’t seen him all evening.
” She turned away, scanning the room slowly.
“I don’t see the Duke of Bellwood anywhere. ”
Agnes had, in fact, been wondering the same thing. It was a gnawing in the pit of her stomach. “Perhaps he hasn’t arrived yet.”
If he had arrived, if he was here somewhere, why wouldn’t he have come and found her?
Did he not understand how difficult it had been for her to leave her home and come to this event, where she knew that everyone would be judging her?
Agnes didn’t care what people thought, exactly, but at the same time, it was difficult to be looked at in that way.
It was hard knowing that everyone in a room was stealing looks at her, all of them forming opinions about her, maybe even whispering to one another.
The notorious spinster had re-entered society at last—what could have drawn her out?
Without the duke by her side, she had no easy explanation for her presence here.
She swallowed hard. If he didn’t make an appearance soon, she would go home, she decided.
She wasn’t going to stand here all night and allow herself to be an object of curiosity.
They could make a different plan, go out, and attend a different event.
Or, if he wasn’t going to be reliable, perhaps they wouldn’t engage in this courtship at all.
She had looked forward to his promise to help her complete her List of Inappropriate Ideas, but so far, the only thing he had done to help with that was to stare at her while she read a book.
She didn’t need him for that. She could do the list without him.
Thinking about it, she began to fume. How could he have done this—left her here to face scrutiny like this? Didn’t he realize how foolish she would look? It wasn’t so much that she feared ridicule, but she was angry at his lack of consideration for her. She’d thought him better than that.
“Let’s go look for him,” Dorothy urged. “I want to meet him.”
“No.” Violet put a hand on Dorothy’s arm. “That isn’t proper. He should come and find Agnes. She shouldn’t have to go to him.”
“I don’t think that’s how Agnes feels about it,” Dorothy objected.
“She’s never been the sort to wait for things to come to her.
Agnes…come, let’s go and find your duke.
You shouldn’t have to sit here waiting for him to remember his responsibilities.
And besides, I want to get to know the man who has won my friend’s heart! ”
“He hasn’t won my heart,” Agnes objected automatically, before recalling that she was supposed to act as if he had done exactly that.
“Well—what I mean is, I’m going into this with open eyes.
I don’t want it to seem as though I’ve been completely swept off my feet, just because a handsome duke has asked to court me. ”
“So you think he’s handsome?” Dorothy’s eyes shone. She linked her arm through Agnes’s. “That settles the matter. Now I have to meet him.”
She started to pull Agnes away from the wall and toward the crowd.
To her own surprise, Agnes allowed herself to be drawn out.
Maybe Dorothy had a point. There really wasn’t any reason to just go on standing here.
If she was going to leave the party early, it would be satisfying to at least locate the duke first, to let him know how he had let her down by not showing up when he had promised to do so.
That is, assuming he’s here at all. Maybe he decided at the last minute that he didn’t need to bother showing up. Maybe he’s sitting at home in his study, smoking a pipe and laughing at me.
Then, from behind her, she heard a familiar voice. “Good evening, Lady Agnes.”