Page 19 of When He Was a Duke
“This unexpected ball, I suppose. I cannot understand why Father wants to bring it back. It seems sudden and strange.”
“I agree, Lady Rose.” Mrs. Blythe clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Regardless, we will plan a night that will stun our guests, as we did back in your mother’s time.”
“I wish I could go back in time and see her just once more.” Rose glanced toward the window, where a robin had come to rest on the sill.
“She adored you. I believe she loved being a mother more than anything in her life. Lady Wentworth told Lizzie how much she longed for another child but it never came to pass.”
“I’d have liked a brother or sister very much.” Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt so alone. “Was my mother’s life anything but tragic?”
“You, my lady, were her joy.”
Rose nodded, afraid she might cry. To hide her emotion, she suggested they return to planning the ball. “I did have an idea for a theme, but it might be silly. What do you think about A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
Mrs. Blythe’s expression changed from sorrow to delight. “How enchanting. It’s splendid.”
Happy that Mrs. Blythe agreed, she spilled over with her ideas. “The women could wear gossamer gowns in soft pastels or moonlit silvers, like Titania and her fairies. They might like to wear floral headpieces or crowns. Masks could be butterflies or leaves or flowers, but of course, that would be up to the guests. Maybe even some will wear subtle fairy wings.” She went on to say the gentlemen could wear sashes or cloaks inspired by Oberon and masks of satyrs or owls. “We’ll transform the ballroom into an enchanted woodland, with hanging lanterns and floating candles. A depiction of a night sky could be painted on the ballroom floor. Lush floral arrangements, of course.” She suggested the music be a string quartet, a harpsichord for quieter moments, and flutes and violins for spirited dances. “And maybe Shakespearean-inspired madrigals to perform?” She warmed, overflowing with ideas. “Is it too much?”
“Not at all, Lady Rose. We shall have to hustle, but I’m sure we can do it.”
They narrowed in on a few other details. Mrs. Blythe suggested glazed fruits and berries served in golden goblets. Roasted pheasant, honeyed ham, and stuffed quail. Herb-infused breads, cheeses, and fresh honeycombs. Sugared violets, candied roses, and lavender shortbread biscuits. “We’ll have to discuss it with Mrs. Carter, of course, but I’m quite certain she can come up with a delectable menu. Perhaps for drinks, we can serve a light, floral elderflower and champagne cocktail—a fairy nectar?” Mrs. Blythe’s eyes twinkled at the idea. “Won’t that be fun?”
“Yes, wonderful,” Rose said.
Mrs. Blythe picked up a piece of paper from a neat stack. “Here’s your father’s guest list for both the summer house party and masquerade ball.”
Rose took them in hand. The first two made her inwardly sigh. Two weeks of trying to avoid Baron White while managing Honoria Blackwell’s conniving ways made her want to curl up in her bed and never come out.
Rose scanned the rest of the list, fingers tracing over each name. The gathering would be an eclectic one, and possibly very entertaining. Some were familiar acquaintances from the Season. Lady Daphne Merriweather, sweet and naive, had befriended Rose during the previous Season. Lady Arabella Kingsley, the fashionable and wealthy widow, would be there as well, along with Miss Lydia Norbury, a woman of quiet strength who had inherited a fortune but never sought a husband.
Among the gentlemen, Viscount Edmund Gresham was expected—a man of intelligence and reserve, known for his impeccable manners and reticent nature. Then there was Sir Philip Easton, a charming baronet with a rakish reputation and a precarious financial situation, though he remained one of the most entertaining men of the ton. And, of course, Lord Jonathan Ellsworth, the talented musician whose love of gambling had landed him in dire straits. Rose suspected he had only accepted the invitation out of necessity.
The only name on the list she did not recognize was that of Lady Violet Stratton. “Do you know this young woman?” Rose asked Mrs. Blythe.
“I believe she is the young cousin of Mrs. Blackwell. From what I know, she’s been sent from up north to live with Mrs. Blackwell, perhaps in the hopes of a good match.”
“I certainly hope she has a more pleasant personality than that of Mrs. Blackwell,” Rose said before she could stop herself.
Mrs. Blythe didn’t respond, but Rose caught a slight twitch at thecorner of her mouth.
A firm knock sounded at the door, followed by the quiet creak of its hinges. Tobias Hale appeared, dipping into a shallow bow. “My lady, Mrs. Blythe. My apologies for interrupting.”
“Mr. Hale, I didn’t expect you back so soon. What can I do for you?” Mrs. Blythe asked, smiling at him. The two were old friends and frequently collaborated.
Tobias Hale had been a presence in Wentworth Manor for years. He was lean and well-built, his frame hinting at a life spent in action rather than idleness. A strong jaw and slightly crooked nose made him rugged rather than classically handsome. His salt-and-pepper hair, more brown than gray, was kept neatly trimmed. His eyes were a deep, warm brown.
As their loyal steward, he handled estate business with efficiency, overseeing the tenants, managing accounts, and ensuring debts were paid. From what Rose had observed, he was a patient and soft-spoken man. A man one could rely on to behave with integrity. Rose often had the impression that he and her father had a somewhat distant relationship. Hargrave was her father’s confidant. Hale was simply a man who worked for him.
“Business was settled sooner than expected,” Hale said. “I figured I’d best return as soon as I could, given all that’s coming our way in the next few weeks.”
Mrs. Blythe gave a knowing nod. “I suspect things will be lively indeed.”
“Please do not hesitate to ask for whatever you need,” Hale said. “I’ve hired additional hands from some of the lads in the village. Whatever Lady Rose decides to do for the ball, we are at your service.”
“Thank you, Hale. That’s reassuring,” Rose said.
“And now, I must be off. Mr. Thorncroft has asked me to meet the new gardener. He wants my opinion. He seems to think there’ssomething the lad’s hiding.”
“Really?” Rose’s eyebrows raised. “Is it because he seems educated?”
