Page 58 of Wicked Is the Duke
Chapter Twenty
Anna glanced in themirror one final time. Everything must be in place, perfect to a fault. She smoothed the skirts of the red silk gown she wore, wondering if the color was too bold. Nonsense, the dress was perfect, and better yet, no one would be dressed in anything remotely similar.
Tonight was the first social event since she and Blackmont had married. An invitation to the Duke and Duchess of Somerset's once a year gala was a feat only a fortunate few could claim. The duchess kept the ball small compared to others in the Londonton, and only the influential or up and coming members of the aristocracy were invited.
Satisfied, Anna met her husband in the grand hall. She smiled, their eyes locked as he neared.
"You look stunning, Duchess. Beautiful," he murmured.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
A short time later their carriage neared the duke's London home, Cantrell Manor. Carriages were lined up, waiting for their turn so that their occupants could make a grand entrance in front of all.
A footman opened the door and set the iron stairs into position. Blackmont descended, offering a hand to his duchess. As she descended the carriage, Anna was aware of the whisperings and the countless eyes watching her.
Taking her husband's arm, they continued inside, stopping twice while Blackmont acknowledged a friend or perhaps business acquaintance. Both times he introduced her, she could feel his peers judging her. After all, she wasn't born into British aristocracy. She was aware of the rumors floating about her and her family tie to the Queen's family. Though it was all true, she and Robert had never flaunted the fact. Now she was a duchess in her own right, and with it, she hoped the murmurs would cease.
They stood in line until the butler announced them. A receiving line followed where they were warmly greeted by their hosts. No time to talk; there was time for that later.
Henry led her further into the ballroom. At one side, a small group of musicians were warming up to play. Along the perimeter to the other end, potted orange trees lined the walls of the red and gold room.
"Would you care for something to drink? I believe I saw refreshments being served in the next room," Henry asked.
"Thank you, no," she replied.
Anna dreaded the time when her husband would have to leave her to the clutches of the women. It pained her not to see many familiar faces. Though he would never abandon her to fend for herself alone, she wondered who he would choose to leave her with.
A couple approached. Anna recognized them as the Earl and Countess of Manchester. They were of their own ages, having only been married for a year. He was also a Member of Parliament on opposite sides of the hall from her husband. Still, political views aside, they made an adorable couple.
"Why don't we leave our wives to get better acquainted, Blackmont?" the earl said.
Anna observed him closely. His clothing was meticulous as were most gentlemen in attendance, though the earl was a bit more flamboyant in his choices. His coat had gold threads running through it. He was a tall, lean man. Judging by the paleness of his complexion, he obviously never spent much time outside.
He was also watching Anna. Though he tried to appear engrossed in her husband's conversation, Anna felt his gray eyes on her. She wasn't going to let him or any other man unnerve her this evening. She was a duchess now, and she would command the respect she deserved.
Henry gazed at her. "You don't mind, do you? I promise I'll return for the first waltz."
"Of course I don't mind. You know how I cherish dancing with you, especially the waltz, so I will wait for your return, Your Grace."
She followed her husband's retreating figure as he made his way through the crush.
