Authors: Rhonda Woodward
“Is not this the most wonderful evening? Just think, Bella, there are any number of eligible gentlemen from very good families, all under one roof!”
Bella could not help but laugh at her cousin’s frank husband hunting. It certainly was difficult to stay angry at Triss for any length of time, she admitted to herself.
The music, the laughter, and the skill of the dancers helped a great deal in Bella’s attempt to keep her mind from the disturbing scene earlier with the duke. At unexpected moments, Bella’s mind would conjure the feel of the duke’s hands upon her neck and shoulders and the unsettling intensity of his gaze.
As Bella stood conversing with Aunt Elizabeth and the dowager, Lady Louisa again approached Bella, this time with a very beautiful woman in tow.
“My dear duchess, I would like to present Lady Bolton. She particularly wished to be made known to you.”
Lady Bolton sketched a quick curtsy to Bella just as Lady Louisa’s current partner claimed her hand for the next cotillion and led her away.
Bella smiled at Lady Bolton, admiring the beautiful blue gown that showed the swanlike length of her neck to advantage.
“Your grace, I have desired to make your acquaintance since hearing of Westlake’s unexpected marriage,” the lady said.
“I can understand that,” Bella replied as noncommittally as she could after a moment’s pause. Bella watched Lady Bolton as her gaze traveled over Bella’s figure, lingering on the jewelry the duke had given her earlier.
“Yes, you see, Westlake has been a
dear
friend for any number of years, and I was a guest at the house party taking place at Autley when we received the dreadful news that he had gone missing,” Lady Bolton continued.
Even though she was standing next to Aunt Elizabeth and the dowager duchess amidst a crowd of people, Bella was aware that she and Lady Bolton were relatively private, as her aunt and the duke’s mother were deep in conversation.
“That must have been distressing,” Bella acknowledged, doing her best to keep her expression serene.
“Oh, very!” the lady said. “Especially since the duke and I had
certain
plans. You and Westlake could have known each other for only a matter of weeks before you wed. Tell me, your grace, how did your romance blossom so quickly?”
“Yes. It did happen quickly. The ways of fate are so mysterious,” Bella replied, growing increasingly nervous at Lady Bolton’s line of questioning. Bella also had not missed Lady Bolton’s comment about having
certain
plans with the duke.
Plans to meet at midnight in the lush atrium at Autley, no doubt
, Bella thought with a pang near her heart.
“One wonders how the two of you had enough time to get to know each other,” Lady Bolton continued, her eyes expressing avid interest.
“Yes, one does wonder,” Bella replied, trying to imitate the polite half smile the dowager duchess constantly displayed to perfection.
Lady Bolton did not seem satisfied with Bella’s answer. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She flipped her ornate fan open with a snap and began using it in a rapid motion to cool her flushed cheeks.
Bella decided the best course to take was to outwait Lady Bolton and remain silent. If the duke’s friend wanted more information about their marriage, she could just ask Westlake, Bella thought with some exasperation.
At that moment Bella saw Lady Jersey coming toward her through the glittering throng of people. Bella was quite aware that Lady Jersey was one of the formidable patronesses of Almack’s. Triss had explained this to her earlier. Along with the other patronesses, the lady ruled its hallowed ground with an iron fist cloaked in the proverbial velvet glove.
With an inward groan, Bella recalled what Triss had said earlier during their ride to Almack’s: “If the patronesses find that someone is not up to snuff then they are banned forever from Almack’s. No young lady could feel that her Season had been a success without a voucher.”
Bella’s nervousness grew as Lady Jersey bore down upon her.
“Is it the Duchess of Westlake? How terribly exciting!” the very grand-looking woman said to Bella without waiting for an introduction. “Your most unexpected union is the only topic upon everyone’s lips this Season,” Lady Jersey gushed. “How romantic, your grace. We shall take a turn around the room and you can tell me all about it. I cannot believe that sly boots, Westlake, did not tell me a thing about you!”
With a panicked look thrown over her shoulder to her aunt and the dowager, Bella saw no way out of going with the vivacious Lady Jersey.
They had not moved very far when, to Bella’s great relief, she saw Westlake enter the assembly room from a side
door. Over the heads of the other guests, she saw him scan the room and was immediately aware when he located her. She watched as he made his way through the crowd to intercept her path with Lady Jersey.
“Hello, Sally. I see you have met Arabella.” The duke greeted Lady Jersey with the familiarity of long acquaintance.
“Yes, Westlake, and we are just about to have a nice coze,” she told the duke with a smile. “I wish to get to know our new duchess.”
“You will have to forgive me, Sally. But this is the first waltz of the evening, and it is my right as a groom to claim my bride before anyone else does,” he said, flashing her an irresistible smile.
“Of course, of course,” Lady Jersey responded with delight. “Who would have guessed that you would be so romantical? Well, they say reformed rakes make the best husbands!” she trilled before leaving the duke and Bella to take the dance floor.
Laying her fingers on the duke’s arm, Bella looked up at him with an expression of unconcealed relief.
“Thank you, Westlake. I confess I do not know what to say when people start asking questions about our marriage. It is difficult to avoid it when everyone seems so curious about you,” she finished with a sigh.
Looking down at her, the duke met her gaze with a smile. “You must just turn your nose in the air and stare them out of countenance. You are the Duchess of Westlake. You need not answer questions if you do not desire to do so.”
Giving a little laugh, Bella shook her head. “It is all right for you to be so toplofty. But I find it difficult to behave with such condescension.”
The duke quirked his brow at her.
“Then just pretend you are speaking to me. You have no such difficulty putting me in my place; why should you with lesser mortals?”
Bella could not help the laugh that came so easily at his remark, but made no response as the orchestra played the evening’s first waltz.
Without another word, the duke placed his hand upon
her waist and swung her onto the floor to the opening strains of a Viennese waltz.
The duke proved an excellent partner as they gracefully waltzed among the
ton.
Feeling very aware of the duke’s nearness, Bella kept her gaze firmly fixed over his right shoulder as they made another half turn in front of her smiling Aunt Elizabeth. She also noticed the approving looks given them by the dowager duchess and Lady Louisa. There were a number of other people watching them also, Bella noted—most of them being ladies, with less approving expressions.
As they danced, Bella was surprised at how well they moved together. It was as if they had been dancing with each other all of their lives.
“My compliments to your dancing instructor,” the duke said with a smile in his eyes.
“I will thank you on his behalf,” Bella responded, giving him a wry little smile.
In silence they continued to glide across the floor in perfect rhythm with each other.
With a growing feeling of self-consciousness, Bella became keenly aware of a fluttering feeling in her chest that was unconnected to the physical exertion of dancing.
The duke guided her through a smooth half turn, and Bella turned her gaze on the slight cleft in his square chin. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on trying to calm the quivering of her nerves. This odd feeling had begun earlier in the evening, when the duke had entered her bedchamber with the jewel case.
“Lady Louisa told me your grandfather had the
demi-parure
made for your grandmother,” Bella ventured, trying to distract herself from the unfamiliar emotions assailing her senses.
“Yes. I have fond memories of my grandmother wearing the jewels.”
“They are lovely,” Bella said shyly.
“My mother is not overly fond of diamonds. She finds them cold,” the duke continued. “But I think they look particularly well on you, Arabella. The sparkle of the diamonds complements the sparkle in your amazing eyes.”
Bella’s gaze met the duke’s. The waltz was ending, and their gazes locked for a brief, heart-stopping moment. They stood motionless on the dance floor for a little longer than the other dancers.
Dragging air into her lungs, Bella forced her eyes from the duke’s compelling gaze. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, still reeling from his unexpected compliment.
With a brief inclination of his head, the duke offered his arm and they made their way back to where his mother and Aunt Elizabeth were holding court with Triss and Louisa.
“There you are, Alex,” Lady Louisa called as they approached. “Where have you been all evening? In the card room, no doubt. Aren’t the stakes much too low for you? Oh, well, you are here now. I hope you have not forgotten that you promised to dance a reel with me.” She looked up at her brother with smiling, confident eyes.
The duke looked down at his youngest sister with amused tolerance. “All right, Prattle. They are starting a reel now.” He gave in with a chuckle. Giving a brief bow to Bella and the other ladies, the duke led his sister to the dance floor.
“I’ll say this for you, my girl,” the dowager called over to Bella above the din. “You are an accomplished dancer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Bella smiled at her stately mother-in-law.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Bella?” Triss asked as she stood at her mother’s side.
“Yes. I believe I am,” Bella admitted, somewhat to her own surprise.
The dowager stepped forward and began introducing a few “notables,” as she put it, to Bella and her family.
Bella recalled the duke’s words to her about keeping her chin up and not answering questions. So, when any of those she was introduced to became too inquisitive about her sudden marriage to the duke, she put his advice to use.
After a little while of this, Bella was given a reprieve from the onslaught of introductions when the dowager became involved in a deep conversation with her friend, Lady Pembrington.
Bella stood with her family for a few minutes, fanning herself and enjoying the sight of the dancers and spectators
alike. She was only half listening to Triss chatter about the number of unattached gentlemen when she turned her attention to the duke dancing with his sister. The reel was lively, and Bella marveled at how well the duke had recovered from his injury. Bella found herself admiring the way he carried himself with such self-assurance.
After being at Autley, and now at Westlake House, Bella had to admit that it was much to the duke’s credit that he was not completely insufferable. She considered the manner in which he lived—with hundreds of servants to see to his every need and whim, and numerous estates across Great Britain—yet one would never have known any of this by the way he behaved during his stay at her home.
In spite of his questionable morals, the duke certainly had impeccable manners, she mused, continuing to watch his movements.
The reel ended and Bella turned from watching Westlake to converse with her aunt. A moment later Triss caught her off guard by grabbing her arm.
“Bella, look over there,” Triss whispered. “No. Don’t look now.”
“Heavens! What bee has gotten in your bonnet?” Bella gave a mystified smile to her cousin.
Her cousin’s eyes were wide with concern as she stared at something across the room. Turning her head, Bella tried to follow Triss’s gaze. She saw nothing out of the ordinary in the number of people crowding the assembly room. Triss continued to grip her arm, and Bella continued to scan the crowd for what was amiss.
The back of a blond male head caught her attention. Bella kept her eyes fixed on the blond as he turned around. She sucked in her breath as the man turned to face her fully. “Why, it is Robert Fortiscue!” Bella gasped in surprise.
S
tanding with Triss in the midst of the crowded assembly room, Bella watched with a growing sense of foreboding as Robert Fortiscue approached them.
“How did
he
get a voucher?” Triss asked in a tone of great disgust.
“He cannot mean to address me, not after how horrible he was that morning,” Bella whispered in astonishment.
But Robert Fortiscue continued to weave his way through the crowd toward her.
Bella could not help noticing how different her former beau appeared. His hair was coifed à la Brutus, very stiff and shiny. His shirt collar was so high that Bella thought it gave him the appearance of having a stiff neck.
“Lud, does he have egg whites in his hair?” Triss whispered behind her fan just as he was almost upon them.
Stopping a few feet away, Robert stared at Bella for a moment, with a trace of a sneer on his lips, before performing a flamboyant, sweeping bow.
Bella glanced around in panic, hoping that a way of escape would present itself. She did not know why she found his presence so shocking; she knew that he often came to London. So much had happened since he had found her with the duke that morning—she had never given a thought to meeting Robert by chance in London.
As he straightened, Bella saw his eyes traveling up her
form. She stiffened in offense as she saw his contemptuous gaze lingering on the jewels at her neck.
“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Tichley,” he said to her in a haughty tone.
Before she could respond, Bella felt Triss bristle at her side.
“Are you, mayhap, addressing her grace, the Duchess of Westlake?” Triss said.
Shifting his weight to one foot and putting a hand on his hip, Robert turned his sneering visage to Triss. “Lady Beatrice Tichley. My! The patronesses are letting the guard down if they are giving hoydens like you vouchers,” was his snapping response.