Chapter 3

Chapter Three

" T he Dowager Countess of Lymington and Miss Eliza Huxley, daughter of the late Viscount of Callwell," the butler announced as they entered the grand ballroom.

The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests.

Eliza noted that few of the guests paid attention to their introduction.

Eliza turned to her aunt, her face flushed with discomfort. "Aunt, my corset is too tight. I can barely breathe. You should not have ordered my maid to tie it so tightly."

Lady Lymington scornfully looked Eliza up and down, her eyes narrowing with disdain. "Nonsense, Eliza. You must present yourself properly. Your figure needs all the help it can get."

Eliza gritted her teeth, trying to maintain her composure. "But Aunt, it is painful. I cannot endure this all evening."

Lady Lymington's lips pressed into a thin line. "You will endure it, Eliza. I will not have you embarrassing us. You must appear desirable to any potential suitors, and that means looking your best."

Eliza took a deep breath, which was difficult with the corset constricting her chest, and nodded with a clench of her jaw.

They moved further into the ballroom, Lady Lymington scanning the crowd for eligible gentlemen. Eliza tried to distract herself from the discomfort by observing the other guests, wishing she could find a moment of reprieve.

"Remember," Lady Lymington whispered harshly, "you are to be on your best behavior tonight. We cannot afford another scandal."

Eliza's patience finally wore thin. "Aunt, I am engaged to the Duke of Redfern; why must I impress other suitors? The Duke has already proposed, so why must I go through this to impress him?"

"Do not take that tone with me, Eliza," her aunt replied, her eyes flashing with anger. "No proposal is set in stone until the marriage is consummated, and until it is, you must keep up appearances. As for other suitors, we need to have options. Given your… unfortunate figure and lack of grace, we cannot afford to rest on our laurels."

Eliza's felt sick with humiliation. Tears threatened to pour from her eyes. "The Duke has already shown that he does not mind my figure."

Lady Lymington's face twisted with a sneer. "A woman like you must work twice as hard to be noticed, Eliza. Your silhouette is far from desirable, and your wild behavior last season has left a stain on your reputation. You should be grateful that any man is willing to look past that and consider you."

Eliza's cheeks burned with indignation. "Thank you, Aunt. You have made it abundantly clear how little you think of me."

"Don't you throw your sarcasm at me, girl. If I think so lowly of you, then why did I take you in when your parents died?" Lady Lymington asked, arching her eyebrow sardonically at Eliza.

"Because you knew that people would speak poorly if you did not," Eliza snapped.

"You insolent twit," her aunt spat, shaking her head, "I cannot wait to have you married off. I do not care if it is a duke or some untitled mister as long as you are no longer under my roof."

Eliza bit her tongue again, turning away from her aunt.

"When you see the Duke, tell me at once," Lady Lymington continued, scanning the room. "I do not want you to speak to him alone under any circumstances. I do not trust you not to ruin things or him with your reputation."

Eliza nodded again, nervous how she might maintain her lie of being engaged to the Duke of Redfern. She had to face the consequences of her lie, all while enduring the relentless scrutiny of her aunt and the ton.

"Besides, breathing is hardly relevant," Lady Lymington retorted sharply. "You need to look perfect for the Duke tonight."

Eliza's eyes widened with fear. "The Duke? Tonight? Aunt, I truly cannot breathe."

Lady Lymington's gaze hardened. "You will do as you are told, Eliza. This is our chance to secure your future. Do not ruin it with your complaints."

Eliza swallowed hard, the tightness of the corset making it difficult to draw a full breath. Her discomfort was growing unbearable, but her aunt's relentless pressure left her no room for protest.

She glanced around the ballroom, hoping against hope that the Duke of Redfern would not show up to tonight's event.

As they moved through the crowd, Lady Lymington continued her search for the Duke, her grip on Eliza's arm unyielding. "Remember, you must be charming and graceful. Do not give him any reason to doubt your suitability."

Eliza clenched her jaw to bite back her irritation.

Each step felt like a struggle, the tight corset squeezing the very breath out of her. The discomfort even distracted her from her aunt's incessant criticism and nagging. She wished for nothing more than to escape the suffocating pressure and find a moment of peace.

But peace was not something she could afford tonight. She forced a small smile, determined to get through the evening without further incident.

The future of her lie, and perhaps her very freedom, depended on it.

She could feel the weight of every gaze in the ballroom, the whispers following her like a shadow. People were talking about her, and she knew it. She could see the glances, the curious eyes, and the subtle pointing. Her cheeks burned, but she kept her chin up, determined not to let anyone see how much it affected her.

"Miss Huxley," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

She turned to see a young lord bowing before her. He was younger than the usual suitors her aunt tried to push on her with an attractive charm and a twinkle in his eyes.

"May I have the honor of this dance?"

Eliza glanced at Lady Lymington, who gave a slight nod of approval.

She could not remember ever being introduced to the young man and could not remember his name. However, her aunt seemed to deem it acceptable, so she took the young lord's offered hand, grateful for the opportunity to distract herself, even if just for a few minutes.

"Thank you, My Lord. I would be delighted."

As they moved to the dance floor, Eliza focused on maintaining her composure. The music began, and they stepped into the rhythm of the dance. Though the corset restricted her movements, she did her best to follow the steps with grace.

"You look… pleasant tonight, Miss Huxley," the young lord said.

"Thank you," Eliza replied, "You are very kind."

"Yes, the color of that dress does wonders for your figure," he said with a too charming grin. "I must admit, I was eager to ask you for a dance the moment you arrived."

Eliza felt a blush creep up her cheeks, trying to figure out if he was complimenting her or not. "You flatter me, My Lord."

"Not at all. I merely speak the truth," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I have heard you have a great appreciation for nature. Is that true?"

"Yes, I do. I spent much of my childhood exploring forests and lakes," Eliza told him excitedly. She had never danced with any man, nor even spoken with any man, that seemed to appreciate her love of nature. "It is where I feel most at peace."

The young lord's smile widened. "I share that sentiment. There is nothing quite like the serenity of nature to clear one's mind."

Relief washed over Eliza as they danced, despite her struggles with the movements due to the tight corset. The young lord's presence was a welcome distraction, and his pleasant conversation lifted her spirits. She found herself hoping again, thinking he might be a good match.

"Tell me," he continued, "how is it that a lady like yourself has remained unspoken for until now? I would think a lady with your dowry would have her own pick of suitors."

"Well, circumstances have not always been favorable," Eliza said hesitantly at the mention of her dowry.

She wondered if he had heard about her engagement to Haversham the year before, or if he had only just now heard of her inheritance.

"Understandable," he said with a nod. "I do know that your fiancé does not typically attend society events, but I expected him to show up tonight at least."

"My what?"

"Your fiancé," the young lord repeated, looking slightly puzzled. "The Duke of Redfern. It is all anyone can talk about tonight."

Eliza's eyes widened in shock. "The Duke of Redfern?" she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. "W-what exactly are they saying?"

The young lord's expression turned slightly smug, clearly enjoying the gossip. "Oh, you know how these things go. People are simply astounded by the news. Some are saying it was a secret engagement while others are speculating that it is a strategic alliance. The scandal sheet even suggested that the Duke has been completely smitten by you, even though everyone knows that to be impossible."

Eliza's heart pounded in her chest. "Is that so?" she asked weakly.

"Indeed," the young lord continued, oblivious to her growing distress, "and everyone is eager to see the happy couple together. I must say, it is quite the story; a true romance that has captured everyone's imagination."

Horror washed over her as she realized that the young lord asked her to dance just to mock her. Panic filled her breast as she wondered how to perpetuate her lie and protect herself from any further embarrassment. However, in her distraction, she accidentally stepped on the young lord's foot.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, mortified.

The young lord's fake, charming demeanor vanished, replaced by a haughty expression.

"Do be careful, Miss Huxley," he said coldly, his tone dripping with disdain. "One must always be graceful, especially when one is to marry a duke."

Eliza's cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I truly apologize, My Lord."

He gave her a curt nod, his eyes now holding a hint of condescension. "I do not know what I expected. After all, no one would expect someone like you to be graceful."

All her hopes died as the dance ended. The Lord, now distant and snobbish, led her away from the dance floor with a curt bow. Eliza's heart sank, and she felt more trapped than ever.

"Well, that did not go as planned," she muttered under her breath, feeling the weight of her lie closing in around her.

Eliza hurried back to her aunt, her heart pounding with anxiety.

"Aunt," she whispered urgently, "did you leak my engagement to the scandal sheets?"

Lady Lymington's eyes narrowed slightly. "No, I did not," she said tersely then asked quickly, "Why are you acting like it is a bad thing? The ton should know you have made such a fortuitous match. It will only enhance your prospects."

"But, Aunt, this was not supposed to be public!" Eliza insisted, panic rising in her voice. "I never intended for the news to spread like this. Now everyone is talking about it!"

Lady Lymington waved a dismissive hand, her expression hardening. "Nonsense. This is exactly the kind of news that will solidify your position. You should be grateful for the attention. Do you realize how many young ladies would kill for this kind of gossip surrounding them? A duke, Eliza. A duke!"

"But what if the Duke of Redfern hears about this and is outraged?" Eliza's voice trembled with fear. "What if he feels betrayed by such a public announcement without his consent? I will be humiliated!"

Lady Lymington's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied her. "Eliza, tell me truthfully, is this engagement real?"

Eliza lifted her chin, meeting her aunt's gaze with determination. "Of course it is real."

Lady Lymington's eyes narrowed, skepticism lingering in her eyes. "If it is true, then you have nothing to worry about. The Duke will stand by you, and this publicity will work in your favor."

Eliza nodded, trying to keep her composure. "But we still would have preferred to keep it private for now as I told you before."

Lady Lymington sighed, her irritation fading slightly. "I understand your concerns, but you must see the benefits. You have already set this in motion, Eliza. Now you must see it through. The scandal sheets are a tool, one you can use to your advantage."

Eliza shook her head, her mind racing. "I never wanted this kind of attention."

Lady Lymington's eyes flashed with frustration. "You should have thought of that before you accepted the offer of a duke. Now we must play the cards we have been dealt. You will behave impeccably tonight, and you will show everyone that you are a fitting match for the Duke."

Before Eliza could respond, a group of Lady Lymington's acquaintances approached, their voices full of excitement and curiosity.

"Countess, we must hear more about this engagement!" one of them exclaimed.

Lady Lymington turned to them with a practiced smile, her demeanor instantly changing to one of gracious hospitality.

"Of course, ladies. It is quite the story, is it not?" She glanced back at Eliza, her eyes silently commanding her to maintain her composure.

"Eliza, compose yourself," Lady Lymington instructed, her voice low but firm. "And remember, smile."

Eliza forced a smile though it felt brittle on her lips.

As her aunt began regaling the ladies with embellished tales of the supposed engagement, Eliza stood by, her pulse pumping hard in her neck.

The reality of the situation weighed heavily on her, and she knew she had to find a way to manage the lie she had created. But with her aunt distracted and the whispers of the ton growing louder, her options seemed increasingly limited.

As Eliza panicked, she barely noticed a group of ladies approaching her. When they got closer, their gazes were sharp, their smiles insincere. Even before they said a word to her, Eliza felt inadequate, short and round compared to their slender, elegant physiques.

"Miss Huxley," one of them, Lady Catherine, said with a saccharine tone, "how lovely to see you tonight."

Eliza forced a polite smile then greeted each of the girls in turn, "Lady Catherine, Lady Margaret, Lady Amelia. Good evening."

The ladies exchanged knowing glances, their eyes flicking over Eliza's body.

"You must be thrilled about your engagement to the Duke of Redfern," Lady Margaret said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Indeed, thank you," Eliza said. She tried to step away, but the ladies circled her, effectively trapping her.

Suddenly, she felt as though she was back at Mrs. West's, being bullied by the more vindictive girls. However, Diana usually stood by her side back there. Together, they could face even the meanest of the bullies.

Here, Eliza felt alone, and singled out.

"Yes, quite the fortuitous match," Lady Amelia added, her smile tight. "Though I must say, it was rather surprising news. The Duke is known for his… discerning tastes."

Eliza's cheeks burned. "Indeed. Like you said, he does have a discerning taste. That is why he chose me."

Lady Catherine let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, come now, Miss Huxley. We all know it is a fabrication. Even the Duke, one of the biggest rakes in London, would not spare a glance towards you."

Eliza's heart pounded, her throat tightening. "You have no right to make such accusations."

Lady Margaret's eyes gleamed with malice. "Do not play innocent with us. It is obvious you lied about your engagement. It is quite unbecoming."

Lady Amelia tilted her head, her expression a mask of feigned concern. "Perhaps you thought this little charade would elevate your standing, but it is only making you look desperate, Eliza."

Eliza's mind raced, desperately seeking an escape from the cruel taunts. "I will not stand for this. If you'll excuse me, ladies," she said, trying to push past them, but they blocked her path.

"Why, Miss Huxley," Lady Catherine sneered, "are you running away? Afraid we might expose the truth?"

Eliza's eyes filled with unshed tears, her composure slipping. "I have nothing to hide."

Lady Amelia leaned in, her voice a harsh whisper. "Face it, Eliza. You are not the kind of woman the Duke would ever consider. Men like him prefer sophistication, elegance… not someone of your… stature."

Lady Margaret smirked. "It is rather amusing, really. Imagining the Duke of Redfern with someone like you. Quite the fairy tale."

At that moment, the music paused, and the ballroom seemed to quiet, the tension between the ladies palpable.

Eliza stood her ground, refusing to let them see her break. "Believe what you will," she said, her voice trembling but defiant. "I do not need your approval. My engagement is none of your concern, and?—"

Suddenly, a presence loomed behind the ladies, and they all turned to see who had interrupted.

The crowd parted slightly, and there stood Anthony Pembroke, the Duke of Redfern, his imposing figure and piercing green eyes commanding attention.

The ladies had trapped Eliza on the other side of the ballroom so she had not heard his name announced.

His arrival now sent a ripple of whispers through the room.

"Is there a problem here?" Anthony's voice was calm but laced with authority, his gaze sweeping over the group of ladies before landing on Eliza.