Page 1 of A Duchess Bound
CHAPTER 1
“We are going to be late!”
Lady Dorothy Leedway, sister of Elias, the Duke of Reeds, jumped at the sound of her brother’s booming voice. He was usually a jovial, mild-tempered man, but she heard the note of anxiety reverberating in his voice. It would not do to be late for the first ball of the Season, much less for their sister Bridget’s first-ever ball.
Dorothy halted abruptly, nearly colliding with her brother in the foyer. Elias’s blue eyes held as much frantic energy as his voice. “We are nearly ready!” Dorothy exclaimed, waving a wild bouquet of roses and lilies, pulled fresh from the gardens. “Amelia is dressing Bridget’s hair right now!”
Her brother opened his mouth to respond, likely to protest that the preparations were taking too long, but Dorothy did not wait. Instead, she darted past him, nearly leaping up the staircase, in a cloud of pale pink skirts and dark blonde ringlets.
She rounded onto the floor containing her sister’s bedchamber and swept in without preamble. Bridget was seated before a mirror, having her curls carefully arranged by her lady’s maid, Amelia.
At her entrance, Amelia started so suddenly that her arm swung back and struck a glass bottle of perfume. The bottle shattered to the ground, and its perfume’s contents spread like lightning across the sky.
Amelia shrieked. “I apologize, my lady!”
Bridget jumped and turned to face Dorothy. Her sister’s blue eyes were wild. “We should have already left!” she exclaimed.
“We have nearly finished,” Dorothy said. “Amelia, take care not to tread on the glass, but leave it for now. We must see to Bridget.”
Bridget had already dressed in her white gown, a beautifully crafted garment decorated with white embroidery and embellished with tiny pearls. A blue sash emphasized her sister’s slender waist.
Bridget looked beautiful. Dorothy’s chest clenched. Her sister would have no difficulty in procuring a match, and once Bridget was wed, there would only be Elias. Dorothy had resigned herself to a single life for the sake of her siblings.
But it looked as though her role would soon be unneeded. What would she be, then?
“Those flowers are beautifully chosen,” Amelia said, relieving Dorothy of the bouquet. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Of course,” Dorothy said, her gaze sweeping once more over her sister.
Jewelry! Dorothy crossed the room and opened the jewelry box, her heart racing. She shifted through the options, discarding necklaces and earrings with a wild restlessness.
At last, she found a gold necklace with a tiny, twinkling sapphire. It would be the perfect complement to Bridget’s gown. Dorothy laid it aside, searching for a suitable pair of earrings.
“I am already so flustered!” Bridget exclaimed. “Oh! What will I do if I arrive at the ball and am already in a state of disarray?”
“That will not happen,” Dorothy replied.
She had found the earrings. Dorothy gathered the jewelry in her hands and hurried back to where her sister sat. Amelia dutifully pulled Bridget’s hair into an elegant chignon and was in the process of artfully adding the small blossoms.
“How do you know?” Bridget asked. “Oh! I will arrive flushed and distressed, and no man will want to look at me! I flush just like Catherine!”
Catherine was their sister, the Duchess of Sarsen, and she did not blush prettily. None of the Leedway sisters did. Rather than delicate sweeps of color over their cheekbones, their blushes were always needlessly dramatic. They were inelegant spatters of color that spread all over their necks and chests.
“You will have time to be calm in the carriage,” Dorothy said, fastening the necklace for her sister. “Besides, Catherine managed to marry. There is no reason why you should not.”
After all, it was not as though Bridget was a spinster. Dorothy felt a sharp twinge in her own chest. She had devoted her life to her siblings, selflessly refusing to marry, but now, she was far too old for any man to wed.
That feeling was best left unexplored, for time was of the essence.
“But those were strange circumstances!” Bridget exclaimed, her voice pitching higher. “Mine are entirely different!”
“You will still be fine,” Dorothy said. “You look beautiful, and the carriage will provide you with ample time to calm your nerves.”
Dorothy did not entirely believe that, for she suspected that Bridget’s heart would be beating like a caged bird during the entire journey. Hers certainly would have been.
“Finished!” Amelia declared.
“The earrings are left,” Dorothy said.
