Page 3 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Vincent chuckled. His mother had a notorious sweet tooth, and rarely denied herself the joy of indulgence. “Shall I remind you of that when they bring the cakes out later?”
The Dowager Duchess slapped him lightly on the arm with her fan. “What I do does not matter. You are the one carrying the title. The one who must see it carried into the next generation.” Vincent’s stomach knotted. “Speaking of which,” the Dowager continued. “There is a lovely young lady I would like you to meet.”
Vincent stifled a sigh.I have only been thirty for two days, and already she has a potential match in mind?
“Mother.” His tone grew more serious. “I have no desire to be married yet.”
“What you desire has little bearing on anything,” the Dowager Duchess said, with a firmness Vincent rarely heard from her. “You need an heir. And if, Heaven forbid, history were to repeat itself, then…”
She faded out, unable to finish the sentence. Vincent did not need her to. It was an argument he had heard many times. The men in his family, it seemed, had been cursed to live short lives. His own father had been just a few years older than Vincent was now when he had died, making his son the Duke of Levinton at the tender age of just five. Still, as far as Vincent was concerned, if he was destined to live a brief life, he was determined to enjoy it as much as possible.
His mother wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed tightly. “We had an agreement, Vincent. I have let you do as you wished for the past thirty years. It is time you upheld your end of the deal.” She pinned him with sharp blue eyes. “You have responsibilities, whether you like it or not.” Her face softened slightly. “Besides, I am quite sure you will be taken by this young lady. It is just her second season, and her beauty is the talk of theton. She is said to be quite lovely, and her grandmother assures me she will be perfectly obedient, just as you requested.”
Vincent hesitated. He had dim memories of making such a request to his mother, back when he had first asked her to find him a match.
“I care little about who I marry, as long as she is obedient…”
Back then, he had put little thought into the matter of a wife. Turning thirty had seemed a whole lifetime away. Now, thirty was upon him. And so, it seemed, was his impending marriage.
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly craving another glass of brandy. He knew his mother was right. He did have responsibilities. And theyhadmade an agreement.
“Very well,” he said with a sigh. “Show me this lady I am to be so taken by.”
ChapterTwo
Georgina found herself keeping to the edges of the ballroom, watching the twirling rainbow of the Minuet. Masquerade; she knew the darkened corners of the ballroom were where she belonged. Even with her face largely hidden by her mask, she felt as though her scars were on display. After all, she could still see several of the thick white blemishes above the top of her gloves, and she was sure her left eyelid, which tugged downwards at a strange angle, was visible through the eyeholes of her mask.
Some days, Georgina was able to forget about her disfigurement and enjoy her life. After all, she thrived on keeping the family’s accounts, and she loved her brother and sister dearly. She knew that, whatever else happened, they would keep her in luxury for the rest of her days.
I know I have much to be grateful for.
But occasions like this left her with a great weight inside her. She felt at once as though both everyone and no one was looking at her. She felt as though everyone was staring at such a freak of nature. And at the same time, the eyes of the men of the ton just glided over her without pause as they sought their perfect wives.
Georgina snatched a glass of red wine from the refreshments table and gulped down a hurried mouthful to chase away the painful thoughts. On the other side of the ballroom, she could see a group of young ladies she had grown up with. Despite the masks, she recognized them from their mannerisms; the tossing back of heads as they laughed, and the flapping of hands as they spoke.
No doubt they are all speaking of their husbands and children.
For a brief moment, Georgina considered joining them. They would welcome her into their circle, just as they always had. They would ask polite questions about her health, and her family. And she would hear that undertone of pity in their words. That reminder that she would never have what they had.
No. I cannot deal with that tonight.
In fact, she did not wish to be here at all tonight. Why had she let Lydia and her grandmother talk her into attending? The night was never going to go any differently than this.
“Are you all right, Georgie?” Marcus’s voice beside her made her jump. “You look a little out of sorts.”
She forced a smile. “Yes, of course. I am fine.”
Marcus eyed her, and she could tell he did not believe her. But she also knew he would not push the issue. For that, she was grateful. Why was she suddenly feeling so unsettled? It was not like this situation was new. She had felt this way her entire life.
“So,” said Marcus. “What do you think of this match? Lydia and the Duke of Leviton?”
Georgina took another mouthful of wine. Was this why she was suddenly so bothered? Because her younger sister’s marriage was looming? Because Lydia’s potential engagement highlighted everything Georgina would never have? She hated that that was the case. She was happy for her sister; of course, she was. But she could not shake off the tug of bitterness that had suddenly taken root inside her.
“It is like Grandmother says,” she told Marcus. “The Duke will be a very advantageous match. For Lydia and our family as a whole. We ought to be happy for her.”
Inexplicably, she felt tears prick her eyes. She hurriedly blinked them away. She could not bear to cry in front of her brother. She was supposed to be the strong one. The one he and Lydia came to when their own lives were in tatters.
“Georgina? Are you—”
