Page 1 of The Duke and His Cinderella
CHAPTER ONE
“The Duke of Nightingale is having a ball tomorrow night,” Eleanor’s father announced. “I expect both of you to make a good impression while you’re there.”
Startled, Eleanor set down her fork. “You haven’t mentioned this,” she said to her father. “You said nothing about a ball tomorrow night. When were you going to tell us?”
“Eleanor,” her father said firmly, “you’re twenty years old. You know perfectly well the expectations for a young lady of your age and station. You can’t possibly be surprised that I would want to see you attend balls and find yourself a suitable match. It’s high time you were married.”
“Father, youknowI’m not ready for that,” Eleanor said, even though she was perfectly aware of the fact that her father didn’t care at all how she felt about it. He wasn’t going to give her the chance to decline marriage, or even to put it off for a few years, just because she didn’t feel ready for it. He had always been clearwith both of his daughters that he expected them to marry well and to do it quickly.
Well, that was fine for Marina, who wanted to be married, but for Eleanor it was nothing but a dreaded chore. The idea of spending tomorrow evening at a ball, fending off requests for dances from gentlemen, was one of the most unpleasant things Eleanor could think of. She would much have preferred to spend the evening with a good book, or perhaps in the stables with the horses, who were among her truest companions after her sister.
Of course, her parents didn’t approve of any of those pastimes. If she was to spend an evening at home, they would want her to work on her sewing or her music. In their eyes, those pursuits were useful because they might help her to obtain the interest of a gentleman. As her mother delighted in telling her, no gentleman cared how many books a lady had read. That wasn’t the kind of thing men cared about in the least.
And I don’t care what men care about!But that wasn’t the sort of thing she could say aloud to her family. They already saw her as an oddity. Even Marina, who was Eleanor’s closest friend and confidant, looked at her strangely sometimes. Eleanor couldn’t help feeling as if there was something about her that made her different from everyone else she knew.
But if that was the case, it was a fact that had stopped bothering her a very long time ago. What was wrong with being different? She liked who she was.
The truth was, she didn’t want to get married at all. But she knew she could never tell themthat. They would never understand. Not even Marina would understand Eleanor’s desire to live her own life, to be free from the restrictions of being someone’s wife. If Marina knew how Eleanor felt, she would try to talk her out of her convictions. Marina would think Eleanor was being insane.
She wasn’t being insane. She simply wanted to do things her own way—and that was something no one seemed able to understand. Eleanor didn’t know what to do about that, since it seemed impossible that she would ever be able to convince her parents to see things her way.
“The ball is to be a masquerade,” Eleanor’s mother said. “It will be lovely. And it will be a perfect opportunity for you both to show off how charming you are—although, Eleanor, you must be certain to keep your gloves on at all times. We wouldn’t want anyone to see that scar.”
Eleanor curled her fingers into a fist around the scar on her palm. “Mother,” she said, “if I’m to marry, any gentleman I marry will have to see my scar eventually.” She hated the way her mother continued to try to hide it, as if it was something shameful. Eleanor herself was not ashamed of the mark on her hand. It was dramatic, certainly, and anyone who saw it was likely to want an explanation—but Eleanor didn’t mind that and didn’t mind the idea of talking about the accident she had had as a child. Enough time had now gone by that she was able to find it funny.
Her parents would never find it funny. To them, it would always be a reminder of what was wrong with her—of the ways she wasn’t the daughter they would have hoped for.
“We don’t want a gentleman to see that markbeforehe commits to a marriage,” her mother explained, as if nothing could be more obvious. “If it’s seen, people might be dissuaded from wanting to spend time in your company, Eleanor. That’s not something you want, I hope?”
“It’s exactly what I want.” Eleanor wasn’t sure how much that was true and how much it was just her being obstinate. She did feel an itch to defy her parents right now. She wanted to be difficult. But did she really want to drive people away?
Well—potential suitors, yes. Certainly. But it wasn’t as if she hated the idea of socializing with people. It was possible to conceive of having a good time at the masquerade. In fact, there was a part of her that very much did want to attend. It was just that she knew her parents wouldn’t allow her to simply enjoy it. It would be all about the quest to find a husband, and that was something that held less than no interest for Eleanor.
“If you’re going to be like that,” her father said, “you may get your wish after all.”
“What do you mean?” Eleanor asked.
“If you can’t be trusted to go to the masquerade without your usual behavior—your rebelliousness, trying to make everyone around you uncomfortable—well, then, perhaps you shouldn’tgo at all,” her father said. “If you want to stay at home so very badly, maybe you ought to do it.”
“Wait a moment,” Eleanor’s mother objected. “Brook, she has to attend the masquerade. The purpose of all this is to find her a husband. We can’t give in to her behavior and leave her at home. That’s what she wants.”
“I can find her a husband just fine,” Eleanor’s father said. “You don’t need to worry about that, Sally. I’m perfectly capable of making the arrangements that are necessary. What my daughter doesn’t realize,” he added, shooting a glare in Eleanor’s direction, “is that we were doing her a kindness by allowing her to be involved in the process. There is no reason she has to be. She can stay at home, since she’s determined to be difficult, and I will find a husband for her and arrange the marriage. She doesn’t need to have the pleasures of balls and parties or the freedom of choosing a suitor for herself.”
Eleanor swallowed hard. Her father had hit on the perfect punishment for her, because he was right—she did want to go to the masquerade, and she was disappointed at the idea of not being allowed to attend. “I’ll behave myself,” she offered.
“I don’t think you will,” her father said. “We’ve learned this lesson from you countless times throughout your life. We punish you for your behavior. We think you’re going to change. But you never do change. You simply go off and do the same thing again and again until nobody knows what to make of you or how to stop you.”
“I really will behave,” Eleanor said. “Please, Father—let me attend the party.”
Her father shook his head. “I wondered how you would react to the news of a masquerade,” he said. “Now you’ve shown me. You’ve shown me that you aren’t mature enough to take this matter seriously. I wish I could trust you to go and not spoil your future! But I know you too well. You’ll look for any excuse—any way to drive gentlemen away from you so that you don’t have to marry. No, the only rational solution is for me to make the arrangements myself and to leave you out of it altogether.”
“Father, don’t be hasty,” Marina said. “I’ll be there, remember. I can make certain that Eleanor does what she ought to do. You can trust me.”
“But I don’t want you to spend the party looking after your wayward sister,” their father said. “You’ve got to find a husband too, Marina. And unlike Eleanor, I know I can count on you to make a good impression. I want you to focus on that.”
Marina gave Eleanor a sympathetic look. Eleanor understood what it meant. Her sister had tried to intervene on her behalf, and Eleanor was grateful for that. Of course, the odds of it working had always been very slim—but it had been kind of Marina to make the attempt, nevertheless.
“Father,” Eleanor tried one more time. “You may think I’m too rebellious to successfully attract a gentleman. But consider this—the perfect match for me, the gentleman Ishouldbe with—won’t he look at my rebellious nature and find it exciting andappealing? We shouldn’t hide me away from people. We should allow them to see who I am, because there may well be someone who is looking for exactly that!”
