The Reluctant Duke (Love's Pride Book 1) (12 page)

Gwen scoured her little room for any forgotten items. It was surprising how few things she owned. Her heart was breaking. He was letting her go. In fact, pushing her out the door. She had thought that last night had meant something to him, maybe as much as it had meant to her. She was a silly, silly girl to think that she told herself.

A slight knock at the door startled her. Lady Elizabeth stood in the hall holding a beautiful deep blue ball gown. Gwen’s favorite fabric from the modeste’s. Her heart fell a little further with another stab to her happiness. Elizabeth had selected the fabric, eliminating any chance Gwen would ever have at wearing such perfection.

Lizzy stepped inside her room and held out the ball gown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I had the modeste make this for you. It was such a perfect color for you. I knew an opportunity would present itself. Please tell me you’re not angry with me.”

The former housekeeper was overwhelmed with emotion. Her eyes misted up at the sweet gesture of the young girl. She had recognized the secret desire of her heart and had found a way to make it come true. Reaching out, she took the gorgeous gown from the girl and then gave her a hug in thanks.

“It such a wonderful dress. Oh, Lady Elizabeth, I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“You must call me Lizzy now, you are to be my aunt’s companion, a member of the family for all practical purposes. Please.” The young woman pleaded.

Gwen was taken aback. Everything was changing so fast. Her emotions were being tossed around like a wind chime in a storm. She had to fight to hold back her tears. She hugged Lizzy and nodded her acceptance, unable to voice her thanks.

Lizzy took a deep breath and smiled at her friend’s happiness.

“I can’t wait until Thomas sees you in that dress,” she said. Gwen’s eyes shot up to look at the other girl’s face. Had he said something to her? Did everyone know what they had done? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of him.

She followed Lizzy out the door and up the stairs to meet Aunt Celeste in the entryway waiting for her new companion. Aunt Celeste eyed the dress and then Lizzy, her brow rising in question.

Lizzy smiled and said, “I had it made for Gwen, I knew we would need it eventually.”

“Yes, well, it will be perfect for tomorrow’s gathering at Lady Pendleton’s. Don’t you think so Thomas?”

Gwen had not seen him standing by the parlor door. She was surprised that she could be in the same room and not be aware of his presence. She must surely be overwhelmed with everything that was going on.

He looked at the dress and then at Gwen, lighting up her world with a smile that melted her heart.

“We are off Thomas; I will have the bills sent to you,” Aunt Celeste said as she pulled on her gloves. Gwen stumbled on the last step of the stairs. He would be paying for her new clothes. Obviously, who else? Still it shocked her. She hadn’t thought about it before now. Was this a way to relieve his guilt? Did he even feel guilty? Or was he just glad to see her gone now that he had gotten what he wanted.

“Please do Celeste. It will be my pleasure,” he said, looking at Gwen with eyes masked in mystery. Would she always have a problem discerning his thoughts Gwen wondered? Would she have the opportunity to learn?

“Where is Isabel,” Celeste asked.

“She received a letter from Rev. Moor,” Lizzy Said.

“I’m right here,” Isabel said, walking down the stairs. She gave Gwen a hug then leaning in close and whispered, “Thank you, it’s nice not to be the only fish out of water.”

Gwen smiled back at her. She was so lucky to have such nice friends. The Duke walked over to her, leaning on his cane. He bowed his head and held her hand. Her heart raced, and she could feel that proverbial flush spread across her face and down her chest. Would she ever be normal again she wondered.

“Thank you for everything, Miss Harding. Please remember, this is but the first step on a new journey. And none of us can know where we will end up.”

What did he mean by that? All she knew was that she had to leave, now! Nodding her head, she took her hand back, feeling the warmth leave as she did. She turned to follow, one step behind Aunt Celeste out the door and into her new life. A life without him. It hardly seemed worth living.

.o0o.

Gwen looked around her new room for the dozenth time. She still couldn’t believe what was happening to her. The last two days with Aunt Celeste had flown by in a blur, the shopping trip for an entire new wardrobe. New clothes from the skin out. Lady Celeste had insisted on a full set. Saying that a lady could be judged just as much by her underthings as by the finest ball gown.

They had returned from the whirlwind trip to dine together in the formal dining room. Aunt Celeste’s servants seemed to have accepted her and her role as companion.

The butler Hightower hadn’t even raised an eyebrow when she had been introduced as her ladyship’s new companion. She had been shown to this room, only a few doors down from the lady of the house and introduced to Jenny, Aunt Celeste’s ladies maid, and told that they would be sharing for now. Gwen had blanched at the idea of having a maid but kept quiet and decided to let things unfold. She could always move on if necessary.

Now here she was, dressed in her delectable blue dress, with its neckline so low that she felt exposed. Her reflection in the mirror showed a young woman that looked like she was part of the ton. The dress hid all flaws and made her feel like a princess.

The door opened without a knock as Aunt Celeste walked in, looking her over and nodding her head in approval. The older woman was dressed in a lavender gown that complimented her complexion and made her look ten years younger.

Aunt Celeste looked at the younger woman’s reflection in the mirror and smiled.

“Bathurst sent these over,” she said, holding out a beautiful set of matched pearls and placing them around her young companion’s neck.

Gwen gasped, her face draining of all color. “I can’t take these, it wouldn’t be right,” she said, her fingers traveling to her neck to rub the treasure.

“They’re not a gift, just a loan,” Aunt Celeste said, reassuring her. “Along with these,” she said holding out two tear drop pearl earrings.

He had thought about her; he hadn’t merely used her and forgotten she even existed. She looked at herself and felt complete for the first time since their night together. The pieces of her soul were starting to come together again.

.o0o.

Thomas Marshal, the 4
th
Duke of Bathurst was nervous. He’d spent the last two days worrying that he had lost control of his world. The woman he loved was no longer under his wing. What’s more, she might very well be angry with him for putting her in this position.

Taking a deep breath, he stood as straight as his injuries would let him, listening to Elizabeth and Isabel discuss the prospects for the evening. Smiling to himself, he kept the front entrance in view and waited for her arrival.

These events had always been tedious; the Army loved to throw balls and parties, any excuse to ignore the fact that death lurked around the corner. But he had never really been the social type. Conversation for conversation’s sake bored him.

The room was already growing warm and would get worse before the night was done. His friend and former subordinate Viscount Somerset arrived with his new bride and immediately made their way towards the Duke.

Thomas smiled and made the introductions. Lady Somerset was a very pretty young blond who was obviously very much in love with her husband. She seemed to glow every time she looked at him and had a habit of rubbing the lord’s upper arm.

“So, married life seems to agree with you Lord Somerset,” The Duke said, smiling at his friend. Both of them could remember a time when the prospect of the Lieutenant ever being married, let alone a Viscount had seemed a significant unlikely event.

“I heartily recommend it, Your Grace,” the young man said smiling at his beautiful young wife.

Lady Somerset engaged the girls in conversation about their season and the latest fashions. The Duke only half listened to the ladies while keeping a subtle eye on the front entrance. Finally, he was rewarded with the vision of his heart.

Miss Harding entered the room slightly behind Aunt Celeste. A small intake of breath might have given him away, but hopefully, no one had noticed. The deep blue dress highlighted her eyes and shaped her figure to perfection. It exposed more of her than he was used to seeing and the thought of other men seeing so much bothered him to his core. A fierce feeling of possessive protectiveness traveled across his shoulders. He had to fight not to clench his hands in frustration.

Celeste constantly stopped to talk to friends, introducing Miss Harding as she went. The young woman held her head high, and seemed born to this world, she curtsied, when she should and nodded her head when appropriate. Thomas was becoming irritated that they were taking so long.

He held his breath when Celeste stopped in front of the hostess Lady Cuthbert. The introductions seemed to go well, with the old crone only raising one eyebrow at the idea of a companion attending her ball. But obviously, whatever made the Duke happy and willing to attend was worth putting up with.

Lady Somerset noticed how the Marshal clan watched the young woman’s entrance.

“Isn’t that your Aunt, Your Grace?” she asked.

Elizabeth jumped in, “Yes, and that’s Gwen, our Ho…. our good friend and her companion.”

Aunt Celeste stopped in front of The Duke and then looked pointedly at him.

“Aunt Celeste, allow me Introduce His Lordship, Viscount Somerset and his wife, Lady Arabella. My Lord and Lady, allow me to present my Aunt, Lady Celeste Marshall and her companion Miss Guinevere Harding.”

Everyone acknowledged each other with the appropriate bow and curtsy. Gwen seemed to be in shock as she stood next to Aunt Celeste and stared at the room. Her eyes scanned everything, drinking in all the information she could.

Within minutes, the young ladies were surrounded by a bevy of young bucks.

Thomas stood back and observed his sister. Her eyes glistened with happiness. Isabel was enjoying herself as well. All of the attention must be almost overwhelming. It was Gwen though that had caught the full attention of the young men.

It appeared that she would not be allowed to act the wallflower tonight. Especially not with Lizzy and Isabel there to draw in the fireflies like a storm lantern.

Young-Davidson was the first to bow over her hand and ask for a dance. Gwen blushed a little and gently declined, informing the Baron that she would not be dancing this evening but would be attending to Aunt Celeste.

The older woman didn’t contradict her companion and allowed everyone to believe that Gwen would not be dancing.

Lady Somerset scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, obviously feeling for the other young woman. But deciding to keep her own council, she drew Gwen into a conversation and away from the unwanted male attention.

Both Lizzy and Isabel were claimed when the musicians started to ready their instruments, each stepping onto the dance floor, their hands gently holding the arm of their partner.

Gwen was having difficulty breathing. Her corset was too tight; the room was overly warm, and there were too many things going on at the same time. She was worried about making a mistake. It terrified her to think she might be discovered as a fraud resulting in The Duke and Aunt Celeste being embarrassed by her mere existence.

When you added the fear of someone from her past discovering her and informing her new family, it was all overwhelming.

The most significant problem though was the fact that the handsome Duke stood next to her. She couldn’t get images of their love making out of her mind. No matter how hard she tried, they refused to give her any peace.

“Do your wounds prevent you from dancing Your Grace?” she asked then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth which only made her blush even more. Lowering her hand, she said, “I am sorry, I was just wondering because I know Miss Elizabeth would love a dance with her older brother.”

“The last thing my little sister wants is to dance with her ancient brother,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Do you think the rumors are true,” Lady Somerset asked Aunt Celeste.

“What rumor is that my dear?

“The rumor about the Prince Regent coming to the ball.”

Aunt Celeste harrumphed and shook her head. “Highly unlikely my dear,” she answered.

“Our hosts are important within the ton, but the Prince cares nothing for the ton’s opinion, and they are not that important. No, I doubt it is true. You know how these things get started. A hostess is worried about enough people attending her ball. So she lets a friend overhear a slight untruth. The friend, knowing what the hostess is up to helps her friend by passing it along to some magpie and before you know it the rumor has spread faster than the plague through Italy. No, I do not think our Regent will grace us with his presence.”

Lady Somerset nodded her head in agreement as if the oracle had spoken, and no one dare disagree.

Gwen sighed to herself. Who would ever believe that she would be at a Duchess’s ball discussing whether the Prince Regent would show up or not. Oh, how her mother would have loved all of this. The colors, people moving gracefully around the dance floor. Even the warm room and gentle din of conversations would have thrilled her.

She smiled to herself and shot The Duke a look from under her brow. He was looking off into the distance, lost in thought not paying any attention to his aunt or those around him.

What was he thinking about she wondered? Was he bored? Was he worried about some mother trying to pair him up with her daughter? He was so unreadable.

A small commotion by the entry way drew his gaze. She followed his lead and looked to the front of the room. A small cluster of people had hastily gathered. Heads together she could see their hostess Lady Cuthbert looking white as she grabbed her husband’s arms in a tight grip.

A whisper started to pass down the crowd. One person to the next like a wave rolling onto the beach.

Before it could get to Gwen and her friends three men stepped into the room. In the middle, a tall, portly gentleman in buff knee britches and red coat put himself forward. Looking over the room like a general surveying a battleground.

He appeared to be in his mid-thirties with a fleshy look about his face and a slightly red nose. The two other gentlemen were dressed even more flamboyantly in bright coats and extravagant cravats. Both men held their heads high and seemed to be looking down their long noses at the crowd. Gwen wondered what the fuss was all about when the whisper finally reached her.

“The Prince.”

Celeste’s eyes had grown very big, and her brow wrinkled in a questioning frown.

As they watched, His Highness approached the host and hostess. Lady Cuthbert lowered herself into a deep curtsey as her husband stood next to her in a deep bow.

The Prince reached out and helped her up then bent at the waist and kissed her hand. Gwen watched it all in shock. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t seem to get enough air.

Eventually, the Prince and his two companions left their hosts and started to make their way through the crowd. Accepting curtseys and bows from everyone as they moved through the room. He would occasionally stop to talk.

Once he even threw his head back and laughed at something a young woman said. She blushed and looked at her friends for assurance she hadn’t done something wrong. The Prince patted her hand reassuring her that he hadn’t been offended, then moved on.

He knows how to be personable, Gwen thought. Surprised. It wasn’t a skill she would have thought a prince would need. But obviously it stood him well.

Only moments later the Prince seemed to see Thomas for the first time and smiled. He said something to his two friends then turned and walked directly to Thomas.

The entire group immediately curtseyed and bowed as they should. Gwen dropped into the lowest curtsey possible without falling over. Please, she prayed, don’t let me make a mistake, not in front of Thomas.

“Bathurst,” The Prince said with a voice slightly higher than normal.

“Your Highness,” Thomas answered as he bowed. “Please allow me introduce everyone.”

Thomas quickly handled the formalities as if he had been talking to princes and kings all of his life. When he got to Gwen, she felt herself blush and then blanch when the Prince took her hand to help raise her from her curtsey.

“Ah Miss Harding, You look wonderful,” he said with an appreciative appraisal. “Perhaps, the next dance, will you do me the honor? I assure you I am quite harmless. Isn’t that right Lady Arabella,” the Prince said glancing at Viscount Somerset and his bride.

The Viscount coughed, and Lady Arabella blushed before saying, “Of course Your Highness is as harmless as possible.”

“What Lady Arabella is not telling you,” The Prince loudly whispered to Gwen “Is that I stepped on her foot when we danced at her wedding.”

“No Your Highness, I put my foot in the wrong place, I assure you,” Arabella said her face growing even redder.

The Prince chuckled. “I assure you, Miss Harding, I have practiced since then. I will endeavor to be more careful, please say that you will join me.

Gwen felt as if her world had just collapsed in on her. She had difficulty breathing and looked to Aunt Celeste for guidance. This couldn’t be happening here, not now.

A quick, forceful nod from Aunt Celeste told her to accept the Prince’s request. The older woman’s tight lips indicated that she wasn’t happy about it but wouldn’t dream of making an issue of it.

Lizzy and Isabel both stood there fighting not to squeal with delight at their friend’s good fortune. Dancing with the Prince Regent would make Gwen the talk of the town. The matriarchs would have to accept her now. In one quick move, he had assured her entry into the ton.

Gwen smiled and said, “Of course, Your Highness.” Then shot Thomas a quick glance to make sure he was accepting of her dancing with the Prince. He remained expressionless. Didn’t the man ever show emotion she wondered? Or did he just not care.

Gently resting her hand on the monarchs sleeve they began to walk towards the dance floor. Gwen noticed that the Prince’s two friends had quickly claimed Lizzie’s and Isabel’s hands and were leading them to the floor.

The Prince nodded to their hostess who quickly signaled the band. Other couples seemed to hesitate for a moment then quickly joined them in line as they prepared for a real. Gwen felt her heart pounding in her chest and silently thanked the person who invented gloves. Her palms felt like they had been dipped in a bucket of water. She would have died of mortification if the Prince had ever come in contact with her sweaty palm.

Everyone was staring. She could feel their eyes boring into her back. Who was this upstart, dancing with a prince? Who did she think she was? A dozen negative thoughts passed through her mind before the band even began to play.

Please, she prayed, don’t let me trip; don’t let me forget the steps. Please help me through this.

She caught an encouraging look from Lizzy. Taking a deep breath she tried to calm herself.

“I assure you, I don’t bite,” The Prince said with a comforting smile. “Especially not women under Bathurst’s protection.”

Gwen smiled back. She realized that he was trying to make her feel comfortable. What must it be like to always be on display she wondered? It must be very tiring.

“Do you ever get used to people watching you, Your Highness,” she whispered.

He chuckled and patted her hand, “I assure you, it is your beauty they are watching. The men are wondering where Bathurst found you and if you might have a sister. The women are wondering if they got the same dress as you if they would be as beautiful.”

Before Gwen could respond the music started and they were into the dance. The Prince moved a little stiffly but smiled and seemed to be enjoying himself.

She was passed to another partner then back to the Prince. It was almost a minute into the dance before Gwen was able to relax and enjoy herself. She started to notice the other dancers, the crowd of onlookers along the walls. The chandeliers glowed brighter, and the colors in the room pulsed with energy. She was dancing with the Prince Regent at a ton ball.

Finally, the music came to a stop, and the Prince bowed to her, “See Miss Harding, I assume you survived without injury.”

Gwen curtsied and smiled up at the Prince. He was a nice man she realized. She knew of the wild stories, but to her he would always be a nice man who had shown her kindness.

“Your Highness dances superbly. I am sure I was never in danger; this gives credence to Lady Arabella’s theories.”

The Prince laughed out loud and tucked her hand under his arm.

“Here, let me get you back to Bathurst and Celeste before I decide to stay and enjoy your company any longer. Our hostess is already having a seizure with me showing up, dancing two dances, and she will require the assistance of a physician.”

Gwen felt like she was walking on air. She had gotten through the dance without a mistake; she had made the Prince laugh, and he seemed to have enjoyed himself.

Her world wasn’t going to fall apart, at least not right now. As they approached their small group, the look on Thomas’s face made her hesitate for a moment. A brief look of fury had crossed his eyes to be quickly replaced with his typical nonchalance. How did he do that? She’d been sure she had seen something, what was he mad about? She wondered. Could he be jealous? The thought sent her heart to galloping.

“Here you are Bathurst, Celeste,” he said before gently removing her hand from his arm then bringing it to his lips for a short kiss. “Enchanting, Miss Harding, you are very enchanting. Thank you.”

Gwen felt as if her face was on fire as she curtsied and tried to look as if a prince kissing her hand was a normal event.

“I enjoyed myself immensely Your Highness, thank you very much.”

The Prince smiled at her one last time then looked at Thomas and gave him a quick nod before departing, making sure to stop along the way to say his farewell to the host and hostess.

The Prince was barely out of earshot when Aunt Celeste smacked her nephew in the arm with her fan.

“Don’t you ever do that again?”

Thomas seemed surprised at first then smiled slightly.

“What?” Gwen asked looking back and forth between the couple.

“Bathurst arranged that.” Aunt Celeste said. “It had to have been. What if it hadn’t worked, what then.” She asked him.

“You arranged for the Prince to dance with me?” Gwen asked, slightly crestfallen; she had thought he had asked her because of her beauty or maybe because he thought she was special. Not because he was doing a favor for Thomas. Her forehead scrunched up in a scowl, if she could have gotten away with it, she would have kicked him in the shin for doing such a thing.

“I just asked him to stop and talk to us if he came to the ball. I didn’t ask him to ask Gwen to dance. She did that all on her own.”

Aunt Celeste harrumphed and folded her arms. Gwen didn’t know whether to believe Thomas or not, and she was sure that Aunt Celeste didn’t fully trust him.

“The next time you get a crazy idea like that in your head give me a warning,” Aunt Celeste said. “If I’d known I would have made sure that Lady Turner and Lady Holland would have been here. I would have loved to have seen their faces as they watched Prinny dancing with our Gwen.

Bringing her fan up Lady Arabella tried to hide a un-lady like snort. “Oh I would have loved that as well,” she said.