Page 1 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

CHAPTER1

Grace burst into the ballroom.

“Oh, dear.” Althea’s disapproving tone was already sounding behind her. It wasn’t helped by the short sigh of her cousin, Tabitha.

Grace chose not to look back at her family. Instead, she took off as best as she could between the crowds of the ballroom. She ducked down to avoid being caught in the eye by feathers thrust into ladies’ updos. They were so eager to join the dancers that they had begun to jig by themselves.

The sounds of cacophonous laughter and violin music filled the air, making it even harder to orientate herself in this mess of bodies and overly fine gowns, but Grace knew where to go. It was always the same since Eleanor had married and was now with child.

Eleanor could be found by the table that the food was on.

Grace appeared by one such table decked with punch bowls and glass plates topped with cakes and ice cream. Eleanor stood beside the table, a glass bowl in her hand and a spoon of cream on the way to her lips.

“Grace!” Eleanor smiled. She dropped the spoon back in the bowl and turned to Grace, in danger of knocking her over with the roundness of her belly. “Oops, sorry,” Eleanor caught her wrists and steadied her. “I do not yet think I am used to my new size.”

“I do not need any more help falling over, Eleanor. You know that.” Grace’s jest made them laugh together as they held hands. “I am delighted to see you doing so well though and to see you so happy.”

Eleanor beamed at her and dug into her bowl of cream once again as she pushed her spectacles up her nose.

It was true that Eleanor had never been so settled or as delighted with life as she had been since she married Dorian, the Duke of Dayton.

“Thank you. I wish I could see you smile more.” Eleanor’s own smile faltered. “I trust that you have come running across the ballroom to escape your mother.”

“I swear, she has grown worse.” Grace sighed, blowing one lock of her honey hair which had escaped her updo out of her eyes. “Ever since my cousin has come to stay with us for the Season, it has made my mother realize all the more every way in which I am deficient.”

“Deficient!?” Clearly outraged at the choice of word, Eleanor actually lost interest in the desert she had been demolishing. She put down the glass bowl and turned to face Grace fully. “Grace, you are not deficient.”

“Try telling that to my mother. Ahem.” Grace cleared her throat and lifted her chin higher, putting on a new tone of voice and doing the best impression of her mother that she could possibly master. “I am telling you, Grace, that all my lessons over the years must have gone in one of those ears of yours and out the other without stopping in the middle.”

“Pff, is that what she says? She is getting worse,” Eleanor agreed with a taut nod. “Even though Philip and I have always argued, for we certainly don’t see eye to eye on all matters, we always defended one another to our parents. Does your cousin not jump to your defense?”

“Tabitha is sweet in nature, but she wouldn’t dare say boo to a goose,” Grace hurried to explain. “It’s one of the reasons my mother has fallen in love with her so much. Tabitha is the perfect lady in every way.”

She is the lady I am not, to my mother’s frustration.

Grace tried to laugh, to pretend it did not matter, though in truth, she had felt like a knife had been stabbed into her heart.

She’d known for years now that her mother was hardly pleased with her, let alone proud of her, but the arrival of Tabitha had only emphasized her mother’s dislike.

“What else does she say, Grace?” Eleanor asked, her tone more serious now.

“Oh, she tells me I go outside too often. That I am far too tanned to be a lady. That I fall over too much to be a lady. That I… that I am in every way, not a lady.” Grace was struggling to hold onto her forced smile now. Eleanor saw it and kindly offered her hand, the two of them squeezing their palms together in comfort.

“I am sorry,” Eleanor whispered.

“It doesn’t matter. I am hoping tonight to spend time with you all, and I will forget my mother for a while. Speaking of which, where are Violet and Diana?”

“Oh, they’re here. Violet’s sister, Celia, is here too.” Eleanor looked up, her face losing any hint of warmth. “Ah, someone else is coming this way too. Erm, Grace, let me pour you some wine.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a feeling you’re going to need it.” Eleanor winked and turned to pick up a glass of wine from the table, thrusting it into Grace’s hand just as two women appeared at their side.

“There you are, Your Grace.” It was Grace’s mother. Althea curtsied low to Eleanor, something Eleanor clearly found very amusing indeed. Both Grace and Eleanor knew that Althea had hardly approved of Eleanor’s bluestocking ways.

Strangely, a lot of that disapproval had vanished when Eleanor became a duchess. “Allow me to introduce my niece to you, Tabitha.”

Grace turned to look at Tabitha, feeling that now familiar tightening in her gut which communicated pure sadness. She liked Tabitha, dearly; she was a kind and sweet woman, but she was everything Grace was not. Try as she might, Grace couldn’t help comparing herself to her cousin.

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