Page 22 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

It was tempting to show Stephen that she meant what she had said and wear perhaps her wedding gown or one of her sensible pelisses, but Elizabeth couldn’t deny that she was trembling on the inside with anxiety over this first social engagement and she could not afford to lose face by showing up ill-prepared in appearance.

“Yes, I think the silver one is too much for an evening party. Can you find a matching headdre-” she stopped and couldn’t help but laugh as Sally presented her with an elegant creation of roses and pink feathers. “Well. That will do. Come now, we must be quick if we are to be ready in the hour.”

Sally took her by the hand and started to help her out of her dress. “It’s no challenge at all, Your Grace. After I got both Miss Rose and Miss Lottie ready for that one engagement within but twenty minutes after they forgot they were going I have plenty of speed that I can put to use in your service.”

There were perhaps a dozen other carriages drawn up in front of the beautiful manor when they arrived, and Elizabeth was keeping a tight rein on her emotions as they drew to a halt, lights lighting the path up to the entrance and glittering like stars in the falling dusk.

She had always longed to be out at parties the way her sisters were. They told such tales of the dancing and the food and drinks, the clever conversation and the wonderful dresses that they saw. It sounded like a magical other world that she wasn’t even allowed to peek into.

The footman opened the door of the coach and Herbert and Stephen stepped down, then turned and waited to help the ladies down afterwards. Elizabeth waited for the daughters of the family to go first, only to realize everyone was looking at her oddly.

Of course, she bit her lip. She was the Duchess. It would only make sense for her to disembark first.

Stephen’s hand was strong and warm in hers, even through the thin fabric of her gloves and she clung to his fingers a little too tightly as he drew her back from the carriage and waited on Herbert helping first Selina and then Diana down. They both looked beautiful, Selina wearing a regal blue gown and Diana in a charming yellow one that made her look even more like sunshine than she usually did.

Her heart was pounding with excitement.

“Do we go straight up to the door?” she murmured to Stephen, terribly sure that there must be so many unknown rules to doing this right and not wanting to make a slip.

“Indeed,” he said calmly. “The servant will announce us to the Marchioness who will be pleased to meet you. Ceilia Hamilton is a very dear friend of the family.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said, making a mental note. “Shall there be refreshments or are we to go in to dinner later?”

Herbert, Selina and Diana all glanced at Stephen for some reason that Elizabeth could not fathom. He did not seem to notice, continuing his steady but slow pace towards the door.

“It is a dance so there will be light refreshments. Ices, cakes, that sort of thing. Supper will be much later once the dancing is done.”

“Oh,” she took a care to hide her excitement as well as she could. She had never had ices and the idea of watching beautiful people whirl around a dance floor was so delightful and so wonderful and so frightening that she thought she might faint. “Will I be expected to dance with anyone who asks me?”

A muscle jumped in Stephen’s jaw and he sent a look so angry at the inoffensive path they were walking up that it nearly made her stumble. “As the Marchioness does not like to dance, the Marquess will invite you to dance with him to open the dancing.”

“What about you?”

“It’s just not done for a married man to dance with his wife,” Herbert cut in helpfully. “Doesn’t give the single ladies much ofa chance to show off their skills if it’s all married folk dancing together.”

The idea of not dancing with Stephen gave her a pang and she sighed a little. He was the only dancing partner she had ever had and she knew him. She had enjoyed their brief dance around the floor, the way that fitting into his arms had made her feel like flying, and now it seemed that she would rarely get to experience that again.

They arrived at the door and gave their names to the servant who summoned an exquisitely dressed woman with jet black hair and dark serious eyes who stood a little taller than Elizabeth and had fine, high cheekbones and a long straight nose. She curtseyed and they all responded in kind, then she took Stephen’s hand with the air of an old friend.

“I am so glad you have come. I have been in conversation with General Carlton for the last quarter hour at least and he will insist upon telling me the story of the time he rescued that flock of sheep from a wolf in -”

“A thunderstorm,” Herbert said laughing.

“With hail and lightning,” Diana added.

“And with a bad knee and only one hand due to the other having been wounded in battle,” Stephen finished. “I know it well. It is good to see you, Celia.”

“Let me take you through,” Celia said, leading the way into a ball room that was so beautiful that Elizabeth thought she might forget to breathe.

There were people around the room speaking with each other, laughing and talking as servants brought out fresh plates and glasses and bottles of the most tantalizing things. A small string quartet filled the air with music and everyone was dressed in clothes that were gorgeous and mesmerizing, colors and patterns mingling together until the whole scene was a kaleidoscope.

Stephen bowed to Ceilia. “Please excuse me, madam, I want to introduce my wife to some of our friends.”

“Of course, of course. I will see to it that the young ladies are introduced to the young men, she replied, waving them off.

Stephen took Elizabeth’s hand and threaded it through his arm, leading her towards a small group of couples talking with each other. She was so distracted by all the colors and sounds and smells that she didn’t notice she was absently swinging her fan in her other hand, tapping it against her chin until Stephen stopped her.

“Do you wish to tell the Marquess’s second footman that you love him, Your Grace?” he asked in a low tone, a glint of anger in his eyes but none showing on his face. “Because if you do not then you should stop making that gesture with your fan this instant.”

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