Page 3 of The Marquess and the Wallflower
“I do not quite fit the pattern, do I?” she asked in a quiet whisper.
“You are merely humble, sister.”
“Do not tease me, Arthur. I am being serious.”
“Then allow me to be serious,” he said plainly. “Wait until you are a part of the ton before you fear their opinion. It may be higher than you think. Now, there is one thing you need if you are to enjoy tonight. No debut is complete without a glass of wine in your hand. Let me get one for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to maintain her smile. The moment he left her side to head to the drinks’ table though, she felt her smile vanish. Despite what Arthur had said, she knew the truth of the matter.
She did not follow the pattern of beauty; she was the odd one out. like someone had left a plain nut in a box of nuts wrapped in chocolate. She did not fit.
“Oh god…” she whispered to herself as she looked around the ballroom, watching her family make the final preparations for their guests’ arrival. “What if I am to be the first spinster in our family? What if I will never marry?”
Chapter One
“Allow me to introduce my daughter to you all, Lady Emily Bolton.”
Emily wanted to wince and run away from her father’s words, but nothing was to be done. Archibald Bolton, the Earl of Dowding, had her hand tightly in his as they stood on a mezzanine level in the ballroom, standing over the musicians far below. As their guests clapped, Emily kept her chin level, despite her temptation to look down and hide.
I wish they would all stop looking at me.
She returned some of their stares, noting the way they all looked at her. Some ladies looked at her face, then their eyes cast downward, looking at the plump form beneath her dress. None of the gentlemen looked at her for awfully long, before they thankfully looked away.
“The pattern is now broken,” she muttered to herself. “I am sorry, Mama and Papa.” She spoke so quietly that it was impossible for Archibald to hear her at his side.
With the announcement done, musicians began to play, and everyone turned back to having their own conversations. Emily sighed, feeling with relief that the worst was over before Archibald turned her away and escorted her back down the steps from the mezzanine level toward the main part of the ballroom.
“Now, was that so bad?” Archibald asked, clearly struggling to contain his own humor. “Emily, you would think I had just introduced you to a pride of lions.”
“They might as well be,” Emily said quietly. “Have you seen the way they gnash their teeth when they talk? Quite like lions to me.” Her jest made her father laugh warmly. She was just debating a way to run off and hide at the side of the room when someone appeared at their side. It was Julia, who quickly took hold of Emily’s free hand, offering a comforting smile.
Emily returned the smile, thankful for her sister-in-law’s arrival. Since the day Arthur had invited his betrothed to their house, Emily had adored her. They had been the closest of friends since, and Julia always called Emily the sister she wished she had had from birth.
“Now, perhaps we could find a dancer partner for you,” Archibald said distractedly, looking around the room.
“Please, Papa, I do not wish to force any poor passing gentleman to dance with me. It is like setting a trap for any man that walks by.” She shuddered at the mere idea. “The bait is even poor indeed.”
“My Lord, leave it with me,” Julia said, somehow extracting Emily’s arm from his. “I have the perfect gentleman I wish to introduce Emily to.”
“How wonderful, I’ll leave you to it then.” Archibald released her, leaving Emily to try and grab her father’s arm another time.
“I do not like it, Papa. She is looking at me with craftiness in her. She clearly has a plan!” Emily said in a mock whisper, pulling a laugh from Julia at her jest.
“I quite agree with you,” Archibald pretended to whisper back, “but as I am curious to see just what plan she has up those dainty sleeves, I’ll place you in her care.”
“Treacherous father!” Emily called back to him as Julia towed her away.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” her father called back, laughing under his breath.
“Trust me,” Julia said, turning Emily away from her father completely and urging her to slip through gaps between the guests. “I have had this in mind for some time.”
“What in mind? You are truly beginning to scare me now, Julia.”
“Well, perhaps your father is right. Perhaps I do have something up my sleeve,” Julia said with a giggle.
“You have made me a part of some plot. What plot is this?” Emily asked, cowering away from some of the guests they passed.
There were so many ladies dressed opulently for the occasion that their clothes were amusing to Emily’s eyes. There were women with great feathers on their heads, looking like they had stolen birds from trees to wear in their hair, and even ladies wearing turbans. Emily suspected they suffered from her problem of unruly hair and were trying to hide it with strips of cloth.
