Page 1 of Her Lion of a Duke
CHAPTER 1
Cecilia Punton had very little interest in finding a husband.
It was not because of any deep-rooted hatred for men, nor because she wished to make a statement on how little value she placed upon marriage. Despite what the ton thought of her, she actually liked the thought of such a union, but not for herself.
Simply put, she enjoyed how she lived her life and had no intention of changing it. Two of her greatest friends were married, and they were both perfectly happy, but that was not what she wanted, and so she remained happily unmarried.
“Is it awful?” Clara asked her in the carriage, clinging tightly to her arm. “Perhaps we might turn back, and I can try again another night?”
“Nonsense,” Cecilia replied warmly, gently patting her hand. “The first evening is the worst, but it is nowhere near as difficultas you are expecting. You shall have many eyes following you, but that is only because of the remarks Her Majesty made during your introduction to her.”
“I was hoping you would not say that. Pure perfection, can you believe it? I wish I had simply received a gentle smile and a nod of approval. Perhaps then I would not be treated like some exotic animal.”
“Or an adversary,” Cecilia joked, but their aunt scowled at them.
Clara was her younger cousin, with wide brown eyes and blonde hair swept up perfectly in an attempt to hide how painfully shy she was. The Queen had thought the world of her, but Cecilia knew all too well that that was not a compliment.
It was, in truth, a bad omen.
Clara’s mother, Aunt Margaret, had been kind enough to sponsor both of them that Season, having warned Cecilia that this was her final chance to find a husband.
Cecilia had almost politely declined, electing to spend the rest of her life as a bluestocking spinster, but then Clara had pleaded with her to accompany her so that she would not be alone during her first Season. She had also thought of Beatrice Jennings, her only other friend who remained unmarried. Therefore, Cecilia had chosen to rejoin Society for one final Season in a vain attempt to pretend she wanted to marry.
“I am expecting great things,” her aunt said firmly. “And that is from both of you. Clara, you shall not listen to a word those other ladies say. You shall thrive, and I have little doubt that you will secure an advantageous match. As for you, Cecilia, I do not care what others say about your reputation. You are capable of finding a husband, and you will do so.”
“Yes, Aunt Margaret.”
“Do not simply agree so that I will stop talking.”
Cecilia could not stop herself from smiling at that.
“I know that you have these visions of yourself enjoying a solitary life,” her aunt continued, “but there are other people who can be affected by your decisions. Make sure that your behavior does not impact my daughter’s.”
Cecilia faltered, at last thinking of her cousin. It was true that until that year, her actions had very little effect on anyone else. Now that she had Clara beside her, however, any mistakes she made would reflect on her too.
Her cousin’s situation was precarious enough as it was, as there were dozens of ladies waiting for her to fail with baited breath. Cecilia could not give them any fodder, no matter what it took.
She sighed, sitting back and hoping that Clara would quickly find a decent suitor and be out of the equation. It was not that she did not wish to see her cousin; she was a delight to be with.However, the sooner Clara was married off, the sooner Cecilia could return to her own life, and the prospect excited her greatly.
She realized that she had been tightly gripping her pale pink skirts, and she released them and brushed herself down furiously, trying to smooth the creases she had made.
“You look lovely,” Clara whispered when they entered the ballroom.
“I do not look like myself,” Cecilia corrected. “I am not some girlish little thing that is meant to simper in a frock.”
“Which is a shame, because you play the role so beautifully.”
Cecilia nudged her playfully, and they entered the ballroom.
Clara was descended upon in an instant before being whisked away for the first dance. Cecilia watched her go. Although she could clearly see the nervousness in her cousin’s eyes, the gentlemen would not notice. They never noticed the intricate details of a lady’s face, only whether or not they found it pleasing enough.
“You will dance tonight, yes?” Aunt Margaret asked, her eyes narrowed.
“Should I be asked, I do not see why I would not. Alas, nobody has asked me yet.”
“I will admit,” she sighed, her gaze drifting away, “I never asked about your… popularity.”
“They ask me to dance, I see that they are not the sort of gentlemen I wish to dance with, and I refuse. That is how it typically happens.”
