Page 39 of A Gentleman's Wife

Once his finger fell away from her lips, Marianne felt capable of taking a deep breath. It never crossed her mind as an option that she would someday have a duchess as a friend, but if this was Thomas’s life, then she would have to adjust and hope for the best.

Her gloves now situated, Marianne could no longer delay. It was time to make her appearance as hostess. She’d likely not see this room again until the early hours of the morning when most of her guests had gone. But she’d planned every tiny detail: the candles, the music, the food, the flowers. Now it was time to see it all through.

“I will lead you downstairs, and we will meet each guest as they arrive.” Thomas explained, taking her hand, and pulling her to her feet. “The duchess already knows her place in our dance. After the opening set, you needn’t dance with anyone else if you don’t wish to. And when the countess presents herself, we’ll make it as swift and painless as possible.”

“You make it sound like giving medicine to a child,” Marianne smirked.

He chuckled in response. “And it will likely be just as unpleasant. But I’ll not leave you to face her alone. Though I’m sure Grandfather will want you to hold conversations with everyone, I don’t have need to be anywhere else but with you.”

Marianne had to physically restrain herself from sighing. And she didn’t want to be anywhere else but with him. Despite her fears and concerns, he was everything good and comfortable. He was home. And with his reassurances, she felt she could be capable of anything.

She reached out her hand, and with movements now familiar to her, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, patting it and rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

Thomas led her downstairs, and at the sight of the two couples, Marianne tried to remember his words and find comfort in them. These were friends.

“Here comes the bride,” one gentleman spoke, and Marianne recognized him as the groom from the wedding. He seemed a pleasant enough chap.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Marianne bowed, then gave them her best smile. “Your Grace, Your Grace. Mr. and Mrs. Godwin. How lovely to see you again. Welcome to Primrose House.”

The duke snarled. “Must titles be necessary?”

“You’re at a ball, James,” Mr. Godwin said with a laugh. “I think it’s unavoidable.”

“And stop your scowling.” The duchess swatted her husband’s shoulder with her fan. “You’re going to offend our hostess, who has been most gracious.”

“Not at all. He expresses my sentiments as well,” Marianne said, trying to maintain a lightness in her tone. “Though the ball might be daunting, I’m grateful to have you here first, as friends. That makes it all the more enjoyable.”

The duchess melted a little at those words, and Mrs. Godwin grinned.

“Indeed.” They each stepped forward, linking their arms around hers. “Come, show us the ballroom before it’s filled with countless people none of us know.”

Marianne looked back over her shoulder, wondering if Thomas would come with them. He stood grinning at her as he put on his own gloves, but then fell into step with his two friends behind her.

“Your dress is glorious,” Mrs. Godwin said, looking down at Marianne’s slate blue skirts. “Such fine detail in the stitching.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Godwin.”

“Oh, please. You must call me Emma. We are to be friends, after all.”

Emma was the beautiful blonde woman who had been married a few short weeks ago, and Marianne wanted to apologize for leaving early as she had. She had been overwhelmed with fear at the time, but she didn’t feel that way anymore.

“And I suppose tonight I must be the duchess, but in private, you may call me Isabel.” The shorter lady with brown hair smiled up at her. “There isn’t time for such formalities if we’re to spend so much time together, because I tell you, there’s nothing we can do to keep these gentlemen apart.”

Marianne glanced back at them. Thomas stood between the longer haired Mr. Godwin and the very obvious Duke of Norland. They were lost in discussion, and she could see how comfortable Thomas was with them. It gave her great peace of mind that he had such friends.

The ladies entered the ballroom by her side, and each one gasped at the sight. Marianne’s heart warmed in gratitude and satisfaction, for it had turned out just as she’d hoped. Aglow with a warm light from candles and chandeliers, dotted with bouquets of flowers and enhanced with mirrors, the ballroom held a simple elegance. Though more had been suggested, if the ball was to be held in Marianne’s honor, then she wanted it done to her taste.

“How lovely,” Emma breathed. “You’ve created a dazzling room for dancing.”

“Thank you.” Marianne could have purred under her praise.

“Thomas says you are a skilled dancer,” the duchess said.

Marianne’s face burned. “He is very kind to say so.”

“You are right, Thomas is the sweetest and kindest of men.” Then she leveled a meaningful look at Marianne. “But he is also honest to a fault and not one prone to exaggeration. If he claims you are, then it must be so.”

“Then who am I to argue?” Marianne’s lips pulled into a smile; she couldn’t hide it any longer.

---