Page 99 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Yes, you’re smiling like the cat that had caught the canary,”
“Well, maybe I am.”
Isabella took a seat at the end of the chaise lounge. “William and I are going to the village for our last practice. We might be slightly late for supper.”
Freya hummed. “You’re not going alone, are you?”
“No.” Isabella pouted, “Eric insisted that we take a footman.”
“Good, I should hate to think of you walking in the dark by yourself.”
“I won't be by myself; I will be with William.”
Freya hummed again. “Well, an extra footman cannot hurt.”
Isabella got to her feet and kissed Freya on the cheek. “In any case, I just wanted to tell you so that you wouldn’t worry.”
“That’s very considerate of you, Isabella; thank you.”
* * *
The day of the party dawned bright and sunny. Freya heaved a sigh of relief as she let Eric lift her from the bed and onto the carrier. He had recently prohibited her from walking long distances and apparently, that included from their chambers to the drawing room.
“The heavens have blessed us with good weather.”
“Hush," Eric said, “or you will spoil it.”
Freya laughed. “I didn’t know you were superstitious.”
“I am not, but there’s no need to tempt fate.”
She made a skeptical sound, still smiling indulgently. “All right, if you say so.”
She was dressed in a grey silk gown, having just completed her official period of mourning. It was crouched with layers that managed to hide her belly.
She had a white fichu across her shoulders to keep her warm, and her hair was swept up into a beehive. She wore simple diamond stars in her ear and a diamond ring in her hand. She was excited to greet the visitors and to see faces that she had not seen for too many years.
She was also really looking forward to the play. Judging from how excited Isabella and William were, they were really proud of it, and she couldn’t wait to see what they had cooked up.
The footman deposited her on the veranda on a day bed where she would hold court. There were seats scattered all around her for the other guests as well as out in the garden. Smoke from the kitchens carried the smell of roasting meat in the air towards them.
Freya was glad that her nausea had become more manageable. She had waited until she had cast up her accounts before coming downstairs in an effort to regulate it. Someone brought her a cup of tea and some honey cakes as Mama Campbell came to sit beside her.
“Are you excited for today?” she asked.
“I am looking forward to it,” Freya replied.
“I am so looking forward to meeting your mother’s people. It is the closest I will come to ever meeting her, and I know she must have been a remarkable woman to have raised both you and Isabella.”
Freya beamed. “Why thank you, Madam. That’s very kind of you to say.”
“Not kind. Merely honest.”
Eric came out through the French doors and smiled at them. “The first guests are here. Are you ready?”
Freya nodded. “Bring them in.”
* * *
