Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Thank goodness you remembered how to shave,” Harriet said with a grin, as she clung onto Dominic’s arm. “I was so worried you were going to escort me with that… hedgehog on your face.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Hedgehog?”
He had neglected his facial hair over the past couple of weeks, but not tonight.
“Beards are spiky, are they not?” she asked, tugging him forward, though there was nowhere for them to go. “Ergo, hedgehog.”
They were standing in a lengthy line of debutantes that stretched along the foyer of the Assembly Rooms, waiting for their turn to be presented to society.
He had hoped to arrive early, but Harriet had fussed and fretted about her gown and her hair and her jewelry until they were almost late.
As such, they were at the back of the line…
and he could not see Frances ahead of him.
Her sister had probably been introduced already, while Harriet was still trying to decide if she wanted a curl to frame her face or if she wanted to tuck it behind her ear.
“Why are there so many?” Harriet muttered. “I planned it so that we would be late, so I could be the surprise introduction. A last-minute arrival.”
Dominic mustered a faint chuckle. “It seems all these people had the same idea.”
“Yes, well, that is very sly of them,” Harriet mumbled, as she rose up on tiptoe, straining to see above the heads of the ladies and their escorts who were in front of her.
“The line will not move any quicker just because you will it,” Dominic said, for this was about as far as he actually wished to be from the ball.
The moment Harriet’s name was announced, they would be inundated with people offering their well-wishes, and old friends of Althea’s who would coo over Harriet and tell her how much she looked like her mother. Then, of course, there was Frances to think about.
What if she is not here? What if her father lied about the scandal dying down in order to have her back? What if she is in Mayfair right now, alone?
He knew the address; it would not take much to get in the carriage and journey there, if only to see that she was well. If he could find Hugo in the crowd, his cousin would be more than happy to take over the escorting duties.
He shook off the thought. He would not fall back into old habits of straying from his daughter’s side; he owed her that much, on what she deemed to be the most important night of her life.
Soon enough, it was their turn. Harriet pulled him forward to the top of the sweeping staircase that tongued down into the main ballroom, her eyes alight with excitement, her cheeks rosy, a vibrant smile spreading across her face.
Her hand was shaking where she gripped his arm, but he sensed that her nerves would soon fade once she was in the midst of the ball.
“Lady Harriet Everhart, only daughter to His Grace, the Duke of Alderwick,” the Master of Ceremonies bellowed, though he did not have to work too hard to capture the attention of the crowd below.
The ton were already watching, like an audience at a play, ready to applause or withhold their applause depending on their initial judgment.
As Dominic let go of his daughter’s arm, Harriet sank into a deep, graceful curtsy that Frances had spent at least one whole afternoon teaching her to master.
A ripple of appreciation whispered through the crowd, a few sharp glares from society mothers letting Dominic know that Harriet had made an impact. From his high vantage point, he noticed a few admiring glances from eager young gentlemen, and nods of approval from their mothers.
Where is she? He searched for the shine of that unusual muslin… and realized that she might not be wearing the gown at all. Just because he had sent it did not mean that she would use it.
Harriet took his arm, snapping his attention away from the crowd and his thoughts of Frances.
With a proud smile on his face, he led his daughter slowly down the staircase.
She truly resembled a society lady, so poised and refined, but he could not help seeing the little girl who had run to him, calling for her papa.
The little girl that he had all but ignored.
He could not get that time back or fix the sixteen years of her life where he had been distant, but he could continue to be the father she deserved now.
Attentive and supportive, and determined to do whatever would make her happy, even if that meant attending a whole Season’s worth of events. Ten Seasons worth, if necessary.
They withdrew to the edge of the majestic ballroom, as the Master of Ceremonies announced the beginning of the dancing. An orchestra struck up an encouraging tune as couples meandered toward the dance floor, ready to begin the evening’s revels.
“We could dance, if you like?” Dominic offered, his gaze discreetly searching the throngs of guests.
Many more gentlemen were casting curious glances at Harriet, though his daughter did not seem interested in spotting potential admirers. She was up on tiptoe again, squinting as she looked this way and that, as if trying to spot someone in particular.
I am wondering where she is, too. Dominic smiled…
and immediately schooled his face into a stonier expression as he noticed a few appreciative glances being cast in his direction, too: young ladies, older ladies, the mothers of those ladies, they were all staring as if he were a prize bull that had just been walked into the cattle market.
Then, just as he was about to suggest fetching refreshments, he saw her.
On the opposite side of the dance floor, standing with a young lady in a coral pink gown, looking rather harried and just as beautiful as he remembered, was Frances.
She was in the middle of speaking with the girl at her side, the conversation apparently rather strained, when she suddenly stopped and turned her head.
Their eyes locked and, not knowing what else to do, he raised his hand in greeting.
She is wearing it… And it looked better than he ever could have imagined, especially as she drew away from the woman who was, presumably, her sister.
The way the gown moved with her body as she weaved through the crowd had the power to slow time, the color shifting like it was under a breathtaking enchantment, her grace and beauty so astounding that a rush of whispers and astonished stares followed the path she cut through the guests.
She was ethereal, like some mystical goddess had decided to bless the ball with her presence, mesmerizing the entire room with her full, shapely form and the intense femininity it exuded. Dominic’s entire brain faltered with each step she took toward him.
“That was very unkind of you,” were the first words out of her mouth as she appeared before him, her dark hair piled on top of her head and held with a jade pin, her skin radiant, her summer-green eyes gleaming with amusement, her constellations of freckles making him feel as if he could be a lifelong stargazer.
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“Arriving last,” she said, chuckling. “I could not bear the anticipation. Indeed, for a moment, I thought you were not going to come at all.”
“It was my plan,” Harriet interjected, huffing out a breath. “Alas, every other lady seemed to share it.”
“Not my sister.” Frances smiled. “She was most insistent on being the first. I shall bring her over later, but she is about to have her first dance.”
Dominic cleared his throat and gestured to the woman in coral pink. “That lady is not the debutante?”
“Heavens, no. That is Lucinda. The middle sister.” Frances rolled her eyes.
“She has spent the past half an hour coming up with every excuse to leave, for she is halfway through a new novel and wants to see how it ends. So, you have given me the perfect excuse to slip away and leave her to pester her chaperone instead.”
Harriet was about to reach out to embrace Frances, when a startled gasp left her throat, and she stood frozen for a moment, just staring at her former tutor. “That gown, Frances! Where did you get it? It does not look real; it is so beautiful!”
“A kind gift from… a friend,” Frances replied, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.
“Well, you must introduce me to this friend, for I should like exquisite gifts like that!” Harriet crowed, as she finally pulled Frances into her arms.
Over the girl’s shoulder, Frances caught Dominic’s eye, a fresh intensity in her gaze, a soft, enchanting smile upon her lips. A smile that seemed to reach into the very heart of him, stirring up feelings that he had tried his best to keep buried these past three weeks.
“I missed you so much,” Harriet sighed, squeezing Frances tighter.
“I missed you, too,” Frances replied, though her gaze remained on him. “I have thought about you every day. Just today, I could barely eat or get anything done; I was so nervous about seeing you tonight.”
Harriet laughed. “Nervous? Why would you be nervous?”
“I do not know,” Frances replied. “I suppose I was afraid you had forgotten me already.”
Dominic’s heart quickened, his chest constricting as he understood, with all certainty, that she was talking to him. But how could he reply with his daughter right there, and most of London society milling around him?
I have thought of you every day, too. I was anxious you had forgotten me. I was worried you would not be here.
He was trying to come up with a way of conveying that message, when Harriet suddenly pulled away from Frances and stared at something to Dominic’s left. He followed her line of sight, and frowned as a familiar figure approached, not liking the enthusiastic gleam that shone in the man’s eyes.
“At last, I have found it—the place where all the most beautiful women are,” declared Philip Grantham, the Viscount of Ainsley. The gentleman who had made Frances laugh so giddily at the pretend dinner party.
He practically pushed past Dominic to extend a hand to Frances. And as Frances politely put her hand in Philip’s, a bristle of annoyance beetled down Dominic’s neck, igniting a simmering furnace of that sly feeling: jealousy.
“It seems our toast worked,” Philip said as he dipped his head and kissed Frances’ gloved hand.
“I have not heard a single bad word spoken about you this evening. Indeed, quite the contrary. Everyone is desperate to know who the ravishing lady in the ethereal gown might be and I have had the rare privilege of being able to tell them that it is the Lady Frances.”
Dominic was aware of his expression hardening, his lip curling as he looked at the spot that Philip had kissed.
If the gentleman asked Frances to dance, Dominic did not think he would be able to restrain himself anymore; he would have to take Frances by the hand and lead her out of here, where no one else could touch her or kiss her hand or flirt with her.
Frances smiled and drew her hand back. “I have been exceedingly lucky that, for once, society decided to have a short memory.”
“And, of course, the radiant Lady Harriet.” Philip turned to Dominic’s daughter and dipped into a low bow. “In the announcements, they truly saved the best until last.”
Harriet blushed furiously, turning her head demurely so she would not meet Philip’s gaze.
Her hands were clasped, possessed by a sudden shyness that Dominic had never seen in his daughter before.
Something she had rehearsed, no doubt, to make herself more mysterious, though Dominic could not remember Frances teaching her that lesson.
“Indeed, if your father does not mind, I wondered if I might dance the next set with you?” Philip said, with a friendly smile at Dominic. “We never did get to see how you dance at that dinner party, but it would be my honor to be your first partner.”
Harriet’s head shot up, her eyes flitting to Dominic. “May I, Papa?”
“If she dances with me, old and slow as I am, I guarantee she shall not have a single space left on her dance card afterward,” Philip said, laughing.
“They shall swarm to ensure she has a livelier experience, out of pity alone. Not that she needs their pity; they will fight to dance with her, regardless.”
Unsettled, Dominic surveyed the crowd of guests once more, his eyes narrowing at the sea of young gentlemen who seemed to be fixing their collective stare upon his daughter. Of course, he understood that this was the entire point of the ball, but that did not mean he had to like it.
“Yes, you may dance with her,” he said abruptly.
And then she can dance with Hugo, then me, and then we shall leave.
This had been a mistake. Harriet was too young, too ‘provincial’, too innocent to be paraded around before so many eager gentlemen, who probably cared more for her status as a duke’s only child than who she was as a person.
But, seeing as he could not undo her debut, Dominic could at least control who she danced with and who she spoke with.
Men like Philip posed no threat, by his age alone. Had Philip asked Frances to dance, on the other hand…
“Lady Harriet.” Philip offered his arm.
“Lord Ainsley,” Harriet replied, as she gingerly accepted.
They walked off to take their place on the edge of the dance floor, to wait for the previous set to finish. And as Dominic watched them, he suddenly became aware that he was alone with Frances, unchaperoned and unnoticed, as they had not been since before she left Alderwick.
Swallowing thickly, he gazed down at her. “You look beautiful, Frances.” He paused. “I knew it would become you well.”
“You shaved,” she replied with a breathy laugh. “I think I preferred you more rugged.”
“It grows,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “It is good to see you, Frances.”
“And you, Dominic,” she whispered, her eyes glinting with mischief.
It was the first time she had used his name, and he doubted it had ever sounded so sweet.
“But I should return to my family before I cause another scandal, talking alone with the eligible duke that has everyone’s tongues wagging,” she added, a note of regret in her voice.
Realizing that she was about to leave his side again, and he might not get another opportunity like this, he caught hold of her hand for just a moment and dipped his head, murmuring, “Fresh air. Tell them you need fresh air and meet me in the winter garden.” He could not believe he was saying this, but he could not stop himself.
“It is closed at this time of year, but the gate will be unlocked.”
With that, he let go of her hand, and walked away, his heart thundering in his chest as he went to find Hugo, so that he would not be leaving Harriet without a chaperone.
Then, he would go to the winter garden and wait… all night if he had to.