Chapter 17
Lavinia inspected herself in the looking glass. The dress was a pale blue, with soft floral lace around the neckline and sleeves. It made her look like a duchess. It was the reason why she had chosen it in the first place.
Knowing that she was not a duchess after all, it felt like she was telling a lie. She knew eventually she and the duke would have to announce the truth, but with the speculation and rumors already around her, she wanted everything to be in order first.
That night, she would continue to pretend to be the duchess.
She adjusted her elbow-length gloves, glad that the current fashion allowed her to hide her scar so easily. It had never been a problem to hide it before. Her friends, her father, even Cecily, were all naive to its existence.
All except for the Duke of Alderwick. She ran her hands nervously over her skirt. It was not that she believed it made her less than; it was that she was deeply aware that she did not need any more stories or pity surrounding her. Not when the scar had not existed before her marriage.
“Lavinia!” Cecily called out, pushing the door open. “I do believe Father will become apoplectic if you do not come down now!”
Lavinia took a deep breath.
“I will be down momentarily!” Lavinia said. “And please do remind him that patience is a virtue.”
“You can tell him so yourself,” Cecily said. “I am not interested in dealing with his foul mood tonight.”
“And you believe I am?” Lavinia asked as they walked toward the stairs.
“I do not believe anyone is,” Cecily sighed.
True to form, at the bottom of the stairs, their father was waiting for them, his eyes narrowed, and his arms folded.
“You take much too long to prepare for a ball.”
“I take exactly as long as I need,” Lavinia said coolly. “And we are not late.”
“We are almost late,” their father growled.
“But we are not,” His Grace said from the hallway. “Please be civil tonight.”
Their father tensed but nodded and stormed out to the carriage.
“You handle his temper well,” Lavinia commented.
“He is no more difficult than his daughter,” the duke jested.
“You are becoming much too comfortable,” she replied, shaking her head.
“And if we become any more comfortable, we shall indeed be late!” Cecily exclaimed, practically pushing Lavinia out the front door.
The carriage ride was quiet, save for Cecily’s occasional attempts at conversation, each one dying against their father’s stony silence.
Lavinia stared out the window, watching the hedge rows blur past them in the dark, and found herself grateful for once that her father preferred silence to conversation.
It gave her time to rehearse the evening ahead of her.
The smiles she needed to hold steady, the questions she would need to deflect, the truth she would need to keep hidden for a little longer.
Beside her, the Duke of Alderwick said nothing, though Lavinia was aware of him. He was a presence at the edge of her vision that she did her best not to look at directly.
The space was warm inide the assembly rooms, both because of the number of guests squeezed into the space, but also because of the vast amount of candles that lit the room.
The musicians tuned their instruments. The smell of wine and floor polish filled Lavinia’s senses.
She could already imagine people dancing across the floor in giddy circles.
Lavinia took a breath as they all stepped into the room, giving the county’s finest her most gentle smile.
She was aware, as she always was in rooms like that, of the particular quality of attention that followed her.
Glances that lingered too long. Conversations that dipped into whispers as she passed.
Fans lifted just enough to hide moving lips.
She had grown almost skilled at pretending not to notice. That night, it felt even sharper than usual, as though everyone in the room already knew the truth. An impossibility her mind brought to the forefront of her mind..
Deep breaths. Do not act as if anything is wrong. Keep smiling.
As she stepped deeper into the room she noticed Honora and Temperance near the refreshments. Her shoulders relaxed.
“Excuse me,” Lavinia said to her father before walking toward her friends, Cecily trailing behind her.
“There you are,” Temperance said, pulling Lavinia into a tight hug before leading her away from the crowds. “Honora was just informing me. Is it true?”
Lavinia glanced around to make sure nobody was listening in before nodding.
“It is,” she whispered. “Mr. Vale is the duke. My marriage was never valid. My solicitor has verified everything.”
Temperance’s face fell into an expression of concern and sadness for her friend.
“Oh, my dear Lavinia,” she whispered.
“What will you do now?” Honora asked, reaching out and squeezing Lavinia’s hand.
“I do not know,” she admitted. “I have been waiting for the duke to open that conversation and explain to me what it is he expects me to do.”
“He has not even announced it yet,” Cecily added, folding her arms. “He is an amiable man, but I dislike how he makes my sister wait.”
“I dislike it too,” Lavinia admitted. “As much as I hate the fact that I am awaiting a man’s decision, again, I do not know what else there is to do.”
“Whatever happens, you must let us know!” Temperance pleaded.
“I would be a fool not to,” Lavinia agreed. “Now, come. This night is for dancing and enjoyment, not wallowing. Please, go enjoy yourselves.”
Honora and Temperance gave each other a nervous look before pulling back.
“If you are sure,” Honora said anxiously.
“I am certain,” Lavinia nodded, offering a small smile.
The music soon picked up, and the ball was in full swing. Mr. Whitcombe approached and asked Honora for a dance. She was gracefully turning with him, her face flushed. Cecily had managed to find Mr. Edmund Loxley.
The pair made a handsome couple, and he looked at Cecily as if she were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. Temperance was dancing with another young man, smiling patiently as he talked through the dance. Lavinia watched her friends, not having left the refreshments table.
Honora and Cecily seemed to have everything Lavinia had ever wanted for herself. She was not jealous, but it did not change the ache of longing that spread through her chest. A warmth suddenly s[read through her side, and she knew who it was before she looked.
“Mr. Vale,” she said gently. “It would do you better to dance with the other young ladies here. You will need to know who they are.”
“I will,” he said, before offering his hand. “But I was hoping I could start by dancing with you.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked at him curiously. His cheeks were warm, his eyes gentle, but he did not appear to be under the influence of drink.
You have no reason to accept this. He has caused you much trouble and will continue to do so.
Before she could think better of it, her hand reached out and took his. She looked at the appendage, as if it had moved on its own, laughing softly.
for a dance would help keep up appearances.
“I would love to dance,” she said, despite herself.
“Excellent,” he replied warmly, putting his arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor.
For a few moments, all Lavinia could do was move in time with the music.
She focused on the correct steps, the precise movements needed to sppear graceful, the curve of her spine. Slowly, she became aware of more.
The way his hand, rested at her waist, warm and strong. The way he led her confidently. The way her hand rested in his. Lavinia looked up at the duke, and just like that the rest of the ball faded away. Her eyes widened, and she was certain he could feel the flutter of her heart. He smiled warmly.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said softly. His words apread a warmth through her chest.
“Flattery will not make me forget the writing desk,” she said, forcing her voice to come out strong. He laughed. It was the first time she had heard him laugh so freely. It made something flutter in her stomach.
“What…” she started. “What happens now?”
The question seemed to bring him back to the present. He glanced away for a moment before turning back toward her. His hand tightened around her waist.
“We shall find a way through this,” he whispered. “Together.”
“Together?”
The duke nodded. She dared not ask what he meant.
“But I will, on occasion, need you to trust me,” he added. “Can you do that?”
She felt her chest tighten, but she nodded.
“I can certainly try,” she whispered. His shoulders relaxed, as if he had been holding onto something she could not see.
When the dance came to an end and the duke released her, Lavinia curtsied before turning to see Mr. Bell and Lord Casterleigh approaching.
Mr. Bell seemed more subdued that night, still smiling, but not immediately making theatrical gestures or a joke. Lord Casterleigh was smiling warmly at her.
“Your Grace,” he said softly. “May I have this next dance?”
Lavinia paused, looking up at him. For a moment, she was pulled back to their courtship when he had been warm. Before she had thought him to be calculating.
“Of course,” she said, taking his hand. Lord Casterleigh led her out to the dance floor again.
As they walked, she glanced over her shoulder to where the duke and Mr. Bell were.
Mr. Bell gave her a slight wave before turning to the duke, who was smiling, but there seemed to be a hardness in his expression she had not seen before.
Lord Casterleigh, as always, was a wonderful partner. He led her around the room expertly, guiding her easily, and she knew they made a handsome pair. They always had. When the music ended, he kept hold of her hand.
“Your Grace,” he said gently. “Would you permit me a moment of your time?”
“Of course,” she said, nodding. “Is everything alright?”
“It is,” he said, nodding as he led her to the terrace doors. He made sure to keep them in an area where they could be seen, ensuring propriety. For a moment, he took a few breaths to compose himself.