Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
“ Y our Grace, you’ve received what appears to be an invitation to attend a ball.”
Juliet raised her head as Worthington walked across the room carrying a silver platter that held a single envelope and held it out to Hector.
Juliet had just come down for breakfast, hoping that she could convince her husband to join her. She prayed that a response from the nunnery would arrive soon.
It had been a week since she’d sent her letter enquiring about the well-being of the girls and nuns and the current state of things at the convent, but she had yet to receive a response.
Juliet watched Hector open the envelope with a look of indifference although he became more interested as he read the invitation.
“Ah, it is an invitation from Lord Gainsbury. He occasionally hosts such events around this time of the year. Still, I have never really thought it beneficial to attend. However, this time we must,” he said, looking up at her.
“We?” Juliet sputtered, a little stunned by the prospect of making their first public appearance as a married couple.
“Yes, Juliet. Surely you do not expect me to leave you at home to attend a ball to which we have both been invited. Even if the invitation did not address you directly, I would rather stay behind than not take you along,” Hector stated incredulously.
His words felt like they meant more than he had intended, but Juliet did not wish to speculate and dash her hopes, so she nodded. “All right, then. I suppose we will go to this ball.”
“Indeed, we must. Lord Gainsbury would make an excellent business partner, and this ball will provide the best neutral territory to approach him with beneficial prospects.”
Oh. This was about business, not about wanting me with him. I was a fool to think otherwise.
Juliet felt disappointment well up within her but tried to hide how much his admission had hurt her.
There seems to be no way to win this man over.
“We will travel to our townhouse tomorrow and remain there after ball. You will need a new gown for this event, so I will arrange for a carriage to take you to the modiste,” he added.
“I do not think that will be necessary, Hector…”
“Nonsense,” Hector said sternly, stepping towards her. “You are my wife and the Duchess of Islington. Of course, you must have a new gown.”
Juliet did not know what his motivations were for wanting to buy her a new dress, but she refused to overthink it. “Thank you.”
Hector smiled at her acceptance. “You are welcome.”
As they stared at each other, the air became charged with their unfulfilled cravings. Hector stepped away as Juliet inhaled sharply.
Why do you always pull back? What is it about me that makes you want to run away every time?
“The ball is in a few days. Please attend the modiste tomorrow. Do not forget,” Hector instructed her.
“I will not forget,” she promised and sighed defeatedly as he turned and walked away.
The modiste was pleasantly surprised to see Juliet again.
“Your Grace! You have returned! You look radiant! Marriage must be treating you well.” Francesca beamed kindly.
“Well, I have not run away yet.” Juliet grinned, blinking innocently as the woman’s demeanor rapidly dimmed. “I jest, Miss Francesca. All is well, thank you.”
“Ahh,” the modiste sighed in relief “To what do I owe the pleasure of your patronage today, Your Grace?”
“I need a dress for an upcoming ball. You see, it is the first for the Duke and I as a married couple. And…”
“Oh! You must make a good, lasting impression on the Ton! Do not fret, Your Grace. I am sure we will find something that will leave onlookers speechless at the sight of you,” Francesca clapped excitedly.
“I hope so,” Juliet grinned, finding the other woman’s joy contagious.
The modiste asked her what fabric colors and patterns she preferred then remeasured Juliet in the event any of the dresses she chose needed alterations.
As the modiste pointed out potential dresses, she suggested, “Since Your Grace does not have a specific style preference in mind, you can simply peruse and see if you can find a gown you like. If there are any issues, I will alter it to suit your taste,”.
“That sounds wonderful,” Juliet said in relief, already feeling a little overwhelmed by the process.
Before she’d passed, her mother loved buying Juliet dresses. She’d possessed a remarkable sense of style and had a sophisticated taste. There had been no need for such finery in the nunnery. Most of the girls had learned to sew clothing for themselves and for others. Juliet was thus unsure what suited her taste.
The modiste left her to her devices, and she began to explore the shop’s dresses, fascinated by some colors and styles and horrified by others.
She was still browsing and paid no attention as the store’s bell jingled softly, signaling the arrival of a new customer, until someone ran up to her and embraced her.
“Juliet!”
Juliet jumped then smiled as she looked down and saw her half-sister.
“Isabella,” the Duchess grinned, happy to see the younger girl again. “What a lovely surprise! How are you?”
“I am well, and so are my brothers. We have missed you. I have been asking Mama if we can visit you, but she says we are not to disturb newlyweds.” The girl pouted.
“I would not have minded. We will be staying in London for a little while, so you are welcome to visit any time you wish,” Juliet told her earnestly, unable to keep herself from smiling when the girl beamed.
“Isabella, I’ve told you not to…oh,” Dinah paused as she saw Juliet. “Juliet! What brings you here? Or would you prefer ‘Your Grace’?”
Juliet did not appreciate the sneer in her tone and wanted to put this woman in her place.
“Your Grace is fine. It is important to maintain one’s manners in public, especially in front of children as they are so impressionable. You would not wish to accidentally teach them rude habits,” Juliet spoke sweetly.
Dinah was clearly unhappy with what she heard.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said with a mock bow.
Juliet ignored her and picked a few dresses that had caught her eye, leaving to address the modiste.
“Is it all right if I try these ones on?”
“Of course,” Francesca nodded, gesturing to a door to her left. “The dressing room is behind that door.”
“Thank you,” Juliet said politely, waving over Leila who had been lingering at the front of the store. “I will only be a moment.”
“Take as much time as you wish, Your Grace.” The modiste smiled kindly.
Juliet went into the dressing room with Leila, enlisting her maid’s help to remove her dress and try on the new ones.
Although some of the dresses did not seem quite right, she did like one made of a deep emerald green chiffon, but it felt like she liked the color and material more than the dress itself.
“You truly are the spitting image of your mother,” Dinah stated suddenly from her left. “Although it has been years since her passing, I still remember her clearly, and you are growing to look more like her every day.”
Something about the tone of Dinah’s voice disconcerted Juliet. She did not dignify Dinah’s comment with a response.
Isabella, ever curious and well-meaning, asked, “Did you know Juliet’s mother, Mama?”
“I did,” Dinah nodded.
“Were you friends?”
“Oh, heavens, no,” Dinah gasped as though her daughter had asked her to confess to a grave sin. “We were not close, but I did know her…because of how…sick she was. Everyone knew about it.”
Juliet gritted her teeth and forced herself to decide if she liked how the dress sleeves fell or if they made her want to rip them off, rather than addressing how Dinah was speaking about her mother.
“She was ill? How?” Isabella asked, blinking up at her mother with a frown.
“No one truly knows. But many believed she had been possessed by the devil for all her sins. She was not the friendliest woman, and…well, at the end of the day, she met a gruesome end. When she fell ill, she refused help from everyone and stubbornly believed that there was nothing wrong with her. Indeed, her demise resulted from her actions,” Dinah said nonchalantly as though she was discussing the weather.
Her blatant and aggressive disrespect angered Juliet greatly. Pure unfiltered rage coursed through her veins, but she knew that voicing her fury would only cause a public scene.
“Help me take off this dress, Leila,” she called for her maid, who came to her aid at once.
Once she was done, she met Francesca at the front of the store.
“You have many of lovely dresses, Miss Francesca, but I am afraid none of them truly suit me. I would like you to design a gown for me. You may apply all of your creativity to it. It should be sent to Renton House when it is finished.”
“Your Grace?” the woman balked at the Duchess. “I don’t…I mean, I can do that, but are you sure you do not have a style or fabric preference…”
“I trust your judgment. The ball is in a fortnight. Will you be able to finish the dress by then?” Juliet queried, itching to leave the store.
“Absolutely, Your Grace. You will not regret putting your faith in me,” the modiste promised.
Juliet waved Leila forward to settle the expenses with Hector’s arranged allowance. As she turned to leave, Isabella called out to her.
“Are you leaving already?” Isabella asked, ignoring her mother’s calls to return to her side. “I was hoping you would visit and have tea with us.”
Juliet pressed down her rage and smiled at the child, who had done nothing to upset her.
“Sadly, I have other duties to address. Please visit me at Islington Hall with your brothers. As I said before, you are welcome anytime.”
She patted the girl’s dark hair but startled slightly when Isabella’s mother pulled her away.
“Safe travels, Your Grace,” Dinah spat venomously.
Swallowing what might have become a disrespectful remark, Juliet turned around and left the store with Leila.
Juliet had hoped that her anger would gradually decrease with distance and time. However, as her carriage pulled up to their townhouse, she still felt as though her heart and stomach were ablaze.
How dare that vile woman speak such blatant lies about her mother and turn her into some villain, some deranged woman whose sins were the cause of her demise?
What frustrated her even more was that Dinah had insinuated that whatever plagued Juliet’s mother was also a cross that she bore.
In addition, the fact that her father had chosen to start a new life with someone who had such loathsome thoughts about his own daughter and late wife, views she feared that her father also shared, felt like the final betrayal.
When she walked into the foyer of Renton House, the servants bowed to greet her, but she barely acknowledged them, wanting nothing more than to be alone.
Hector chose that same moment to approach her from the opposite end of the corridor.
He noticed her tense form and rapid footsteps along the hall. “Juliet? Are you all right”?
Instead of answering she walked past him wordlessly but did not get very far. Hector gripped her wrist, his expression a mix of anger and concern. “Speak, wife,” he demanded. “Who has upset you so?”
“Why should you care?” she choked. “I do not wish to speak about it. Leave me be!”
Juliet knew she had crossed the line. Still, her emotions were too volatile for her to care about the consequences. She was not particularly surprised when Hector dropped her hand.
“And yet you accuse me of being difficult. What has come over you?”
Juliet turned on him and hissed, “I wish for exactly that which you have always wanted…space between us…and once again you deny me what I need. So, Hector, I spoke no lies when I called you difficult. Even now, all you are doing is making matters worse for me.”
Hector stared down at her as she spoke.
In the silence that followed Juliet’s tirade, Hector appeared perplexed. “I do not understand why you must be so infuriating all of the time,” he huffed in exasperation.
“Well, if you do not wish to deal with me, then you do not have to. No one forced you to approach me and I have told you already to…”
“Careful, Juliet,” he warned quietly as he stepped even closer to her. “Do not try to push me further when I am already on the edge. Cease your childish tantrum and tell me what happened. I insist .”
Juliet took one step backwards, her heart thundering in her ears. “I do not know why you are being particularly insistent when we both know that you cannot be bothered to care. I am tired , Hector. I simply wish to rest.”
Without another word, he grabbed her wrist again and dragged her down the hall and into a room.
“Hector, what…” The end of Juliet’s question was lost when he pushed her against the door.
Gripping her chin, he tilted her head back, so she would focus solely on him.
“It is truly a marvel how easily you disrespect me,” he told her in a cautionary tone. “You clearly did not learn your lesson during your last punishment. Perhaps we are long overdue for a review.”
He pressed his lips to hers in a harsh kiss and silenced her wrath.