Page 67 of The Phantom Duke
The ladies exchanged greetings, and Maria forced a smile, trying to feign as though an anxious energy was not humming through her veins.
“What do you think?” Theodora asked, turning to her sister. “About a ball?”
“I would enjoy attending one,” Evelina said.
“Yes,” Maria agreed.
Discussion of balls was significantly safer ground to tread than the reality of her confusing husband.
“Anna, perhaps it is time to take advantage of your marriage to a duke? Could he be persuaded to arrange one?” Evelina said.
“Maria is also married to a duke,” Anna pointed out.
So much for leaving the man entirely from the conversation! “But my husband is unlikely to be enamored of the notion,” Maria said.
“I do not know what my husband thinks on the subject as I never saw him after the wedding,” Anna replied.
“But then, come to think of it,” Evelina said, tapping her chin in mock thoughtfulness, “you are a duchess and presumably could arrange a ball without your husband?”
Anna blinked. “Why yes, what an astute observation. Why wait for my husband to make his appearance in London?” she laughed.
“For that matter, the Dowager Countess of Thornwall would also be a suitable host,” Maria pointed out.
“Ah, but Anna’s reputation is somewhat more…polished than mine. There are dark whispers of my independence and…” Evelina lowered her voice to a mock whisper, “…radical leanings.”
“Men label anything that threatens them as radical,” Theodora said, stirring honey into her tea. “If a woman decides she wishes to write, for example, she must either publish under a man’s name or be whispered of in hushed tones as a radical.”
“Or if a woman seeks to live independently of any man. My father described Thornwall as a hotbed,” Maria laughed.
“Oh, that is wonderful. I like presiding over a hotbed!” Evelina replied.
“It is decided then. I shall arrange a ball as soon as possible. Will you be attending, Maria?”
Maria looked at her hands in her lap, imagining proposing such an occasion to Damien.
“I would dearly love to attend with my husband, but…”
“Then attend on your own. Be radical,” Theodora said, grinning.
“Have you not succeeded in civilizing your… I will not use the vulgar moniker which we all know; let us give him his proper title, your duke?” Anna asked.
Evelina’s eyes fixed on Maria’s face, but the woman said nothing that might reveal the contents of their prior conversation.
“Oh, I don’t know. I feel that I take a single step forward and then run a dozen back,” Maria said. “We become close and the barriers between us begin to blur and crumble, but then he builds them up again!”
Maria found herself becoming upset, emotion welling within her like the constant bubbles in the water of the bathhouse, welling up from subterranean depths. She got up, unable to sit still for long when high emotion ruled her.
The room suddenly annoyed her. The curtains were wide open and sunlight painted the room, but the furniture was too heavy and dark. The paintings on the walls were too dreary, and even the fireplace too oppressive with its age-dark stone.
“I must get out of this room. Of this house. It was a mistake to ask you here. I need a change. Can we relocate to the garden?”
“But of course, say the word and it is done,” Evelina said with concern.
“The word is given. This house becomes too oppressive for me at times. With all its mysteries and silences and rules and…”
She was babbling, saying more than she wanted to explain to her friends, dear as they were to her. She clamped her teeth together, breathing in through her nose, long and slow, attempting to calm herself. The others looked at her and themselves with anxious eyes.
“What mysteries?” Theodora asked curiously.
