Page 21 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

“Oh, of course Your Grace. I’m simply airing the things out so they don’t get returned to the shops in poor condition,” Sally said cheerfully, placing the headdress on the vanity and moving on to the next large box that must be another gown.

Elizabeth still felt a sharp searing pain in her heart at the thought of giving up the first gown. It felt finer than anything she had ever owned, even the wedding dress which she knew herfamily had spent the lowest amount they could without losing face on.

She had heard from Sally that some of the servants were still talking about how Stephen had gone to the dressmaker hired to make her dress and caused a fuss over the first plans and had even threatened to have a replacement at the church to put her into should she arrive in anything that would not be becoming of a duchess.

It made her heart thrill a little to think of him doing that. She had to very sternly remind herself that it was for the sake of his reputation and the reputation of his family that he had made the effort, not because he cared about her.

Just like now. Just like this where he was buying her such beautiful things so he could be sure she wouldn’t bring him shame when they were in society together.

She could feel her cheeks heating at the thought.

Sally gave a low gasp and Elizabeth stood up and come to where she was bending over the other gown.

“Oh Your Grace, you wouldn’t look like a queen, you’d look like anangel,” Sally breathed.

Elizabeth didn’t dare touch it even with a fingertip. It was a silvery gown, shimmering with a brocade done in shimmering thread and embroidered cleverly with pearls. It wasn’t a verycomplicated design, but it was beautiful and the effect was something that shimmered and glittered as it moved.

“It’s lovely,” she whispered, blinking back hot tears from her eyes and she was glad when Sally caught her hand and squeezed it.

“It was meant for you, Your Grace,” she said quietly.

Elizabeth shook her head, swallowed and stepped away. She wouldn’t let herself be foolish enough to give into silly dreams. “It was meant for a duchess, not forme.”

“Youarea duchess,” Sally said, frustration lacing her voice. “You should be dressing in fine things like this and having carriage rides and being treated like a jewel. Why won’t you let him do right by you?”

Ever since she had been very small, Elizabeth could remember that she had wanted someone to value her. Not even to love her, just tovalueher, to see her as worth something.

Her first gift had been a honey cake pressed into her hands on her Natal Day by Mrs. Adams when she was a small girl.

Her most treasured items were little carved wooden figures that Mr. Adams had created for her of clumsy little dogs or regal cats, and of a small bag that Mrs. Adams and Sally had given her at Yule that was cunningly crafted so she could hide it away everytime Dudley came into her room to find and smash her few small treasures.

Her father had never given her anything and the Duchess of Rosenburg had ignored her except for a Guide to Housekeeping that she had presented to her coldly when she was fifteen. But now Stephen was bringing her these treasures, jewels that could have been worn by a proper lady, gowns that were so fine she would turn heads for the right reasons and which were clearly actually made for her, glittering accessories that any fine lady would be glad to receive and a muff so soft and beautiful that Sally had almost wept over it.

She couldn’t accept them. A small part of her feared that they were being given to her because she was a thing that Stephen had gotten from her father and now owned and could dress how he liked. But at the same time she yearned for them.

Look how beautiful they were, how lovely! Did that not mean that he thought she was lovely too? Lovely enough to look like the kind of lady who would wear these things? Even though she knew that he had not done it because he cared about her, because he wanted her to be happy, but just because he needed her to look the part – it still made her feel warm inside.

Seeing all those parcels, all those gestures where he had thought about what would suit her. It felt good. She was a little cross with herself over how good it felt. A part of her wanted to keep these things and she wouldn’t allow it.

There was a sudden, perfunctory knock at the door.

“Come,” she called, looking over the piles of things in frustration. If it were Diana or Selina she would have even more trouble on her hands convincing someone, anyone that she did not want these things and could not keep them.

Perhaps it was closer to the truth that she desperatelydidwant them, that she wanted to believe that she could be given them freely and kindly and because of that, because of how terrifying that was she had to send them away.

“Elizabeth,” Stephen said, opening the door with his usual briskness. “I am glad to find that your maid is with you. We have been summoned to Stapleton Manor for an evening party and will be leaving within the hour. Be ready to go by then.”

He didn’t wait for her response, closing the door and stalking away. She both thrilled at and loathed the way he was so used to being able to command obedience and attention, the way he would give instructions and then simply expect them to be carried out.

It was like he could not imagine for a moment that someone might disagree with him.

Elizabeth turned to Sally, who was positively brimming with excitement. “Do not say it.”

“Oh Your Grace,” Sally thrilled, clapping her hands. “At least you have -”

“Sally! Do not say it!”

Sally giggled. “My lips are sealed, Your Grace. Will you want your pink gown for the evening?”

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