Chapter 2

CHAPTER2

“Agnes, must we go to this thing?”

“A thing? Ha! Only you, dear child, would call a ball a ‘thing.’” The lady beside Susanna laughed heartily then circled Susanna as she sat at the vanity table, fussing with her hair. “I rather like the way Peggy has done your hair this evening. Quite elegant.”

Susanna wrinkled her nose at the words as she stared into the mirror. Even now she could see the way her curly hair was desperately trying to escape the updo it had been placed in. Each wave fought loose, and some wisps hung down by her chin, rather more so than other ladies’ hair would be loose tonight.

“I just do not see what good comes from attending a ball.” Susanna waited until her godmother bent down a little so that her face could be reflected in the mirror.

Agnes Egerton, known to most as the Dowager Marchioness of Follet, was rather a force to be reckoned with. Bearing sharp features, eyes so dark they were almost black, and hair pulled tight on her head, she had a habit of commanding attention in any room. It was something Agnes loved and another reason why Susanna loved her godmother so much. Agnes did not like to be like other women of the ton. She would often say, ‘if people are going to look at me, I might as well amaze them too.’

She was no wilting flower, modest and humble in the corner of a ballroom, nor had she ever been.

“I am a dowager marchioness, do I need to remind you?” she said, her lips curving into a smile. “I must attend a ball. It will be expected of me.”

“Since when do you do what the ton expect of you?” Susanna asked, watching as her godmother laughed.

“Well, perhaps I like to defy them a little.” She stood straight and fussed with Susanna’s hair once more. “My long spinsterhood has certainly raised eyebrows.”

“So, if we are happy to defy expectations, why must we go tonight?” Susanna asked. She fiddled with the dance card Agnes had given her. It sat uncomfortably on her wrist, tied there by a small ribbon. “I’d much rather stay here.”

“Would you? Or would you rather be riding?” Agnes’ words made Susanna sit bolt straight and whip round on the stool. “Ah, did you think I had not noticed the number of times you sneak off to ride?” Agnes laughed with her words. “You came back gleaming this morning— covered in mud too, as your maid pointed out to me.”

“Peggy is not a fan of cleaning dirt,” Susanna said, feeling guilty for her maid and good friend who had to clean up the mud.

“You can go riding again tomorrow. Tonight, we shall attend a ball.” Agnes took Susanna’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

Susannah sighed and let her godmother steer her around the room until she was facing a mirror.

In truth, Susanna had not been able to forget her last ride from that very morning. It had been exhilarating, racing through the park and woodland so early that there were only a few people around.

Apart from the stranger.

She thought back to the well-dressed gentleman whom she had startled on her ride — the one with his top hat at a perfect angle and clothes so smart that she wondered if he ever had mud on them, even when he went riding.

What an interesting meeting that had been!

She couldn’t get out of her mind the way he had looked at her. It wasn’t exactly disapproval like the rest of the ton often gazed her way. It was as if he felt this burning curiosity. She had rather liked that look.

“There, quite beautiful.” Agnes smiled as she flattened out the skirt of Susanna’s gown. “You look so like your mother.”

Susanna smiled rather sadly as she turned her gaze upon her reflection. It had been a long time now since she had lost her mother and come to live with her godmother, but it didn’t seem to change much. No matter how many years passed, she still missed her mother.

Susanna knew she was very like her. The same tall height, the same curvy stature, and the wildness of hair that refused to be tamed. Even now, Agnes tried to tame one curl that had separated itself from the rest. Turning her focus away from it, Susanna looked down at the gown she was wearing.

Ivory white, the gown rather gleamed in the last light of the day that shone through the window. She feared in her short walk to the carriage, she would ruin it, for such a material would show the slightest stain.

“There. All ready!” Agnes declared and offered her arm to Susanna.

“I suppose if we must go, we must.”

“Have no fear. I will be there all evening,” Agnes proclaimed reassuringly as Susanna took her arm. “If you and I grow bored of the company there, we shall simply talk to each other all night instead.”

“I would like that!” Susanna said with eagerness. She hurried alongside Agnes, out of the room, heading for the staircase. It was not as if Susanna didn’t have friends, she did, but she also knew there were plenty who looked down at her.

At the age of twenty-three, she was quickly earning the title of ‘spinster’. Not that she minded. She’d rather be free, particularly free of a husband as her godmother was. Sometimes the whispers would get to Susanna though. She would hear people murmuring and pointing her way, clearly thinking ill of her appearance.

I do not concern myself with them. After all, I live to make myself happy. I do not live to please others. Life is too short to think otherwise.

It was something her mother had once said.

As they hastened down the staircase and hurried through the hall to where the carriage was prepared outside, they were passed thin pelisses by the butler and Peggy before they were ushered into the carriage. As it took off, jolting them from side to side, Susanna couldn’t help looking back longingly at the house.

She had many books upstairs that she would have much rather spent her time with that evening. Yet, it was not to be. She was to attend a ball and make polite conversation.

“Have no fear, dear child,” Agnes said, addressing Susanna with such a soft tone that Susanna looked away from the carriage window. Agnes was smiling sweetly at her. “Not everyone in the ton is wholly bad.”

When Susanna raised her eyebrows, Agnes chuckled. “I suppose I have not helped your opinion of them, have I? I have always been a little keen to complain about them.”

“I have not seen much to refute your complaints,” Susanna acknowledged. “Did you know when we went for tea at Countess Rumpton’s the other week, her daughters spent fifteen minutes saying why I was wrong to be fascinated by the flowers they were growing. They kept saying I sounded like their gardener, and a lady shouldn’t concern herself with such things.”

“What nonsense!”

“That is what I thought,” Susanna agreed, folding her arms tightly across her body.

“My advice would be to avoid the Countess’ daughters tonight,” Agnes spoke hurriedly. “Do as I do, Susanna. Find those who company you enjoy in the ton, and do not waste your time with those who are only there to think ill of others. Find friends you like, and give them your time.”

“I have Donald, but I suppose I could make a few more friends,” Susanna admitted slowly. She looked down at the white gloves on her hands, for they were misaligned a little. She didn’t bother to right them. “It would be nice to have someone else I could talk to at these events who was interested in the conversations I am fascinated with. Even Countess Rumpton raised her eyebrows when I started speaking of my books.”

“The Countess is not a great reader.” Agnes sighed as if it was the greatest disappointment. “She concerns herself with the beauty of a pearl or the height of a hemline. Yes, if you are to find a new friend, let it be someone altogether… different.”

“Different?” Susanna said, intrigued by the word.

“Let them be someone like you.” Agnes sat forward on the carriage bench, holding Susanna’s gaze. “Surely it cannot be too hard to find another free spirit hiding somewhere in the ton?”

“Well, I guess we shall have to see.”

* * *

“It is very beautiful,” Susanna murmured as she stood beside her godmother. Agnes was already lost in conversation with two ladies beside her. It gave Susanna the opportunity to admire the beauty of the decorations around her.

The Countess Rumpton’s ball had been decorated grandly for the event. Candelabras were decked with white roses, and not a single one was out of place or marred by blackened petals. The tables that sparkled with crystal glasses had tiny white daisies spread between them, each one picked just perfectly so that not a hint of the stem could be seen.

Susanna couldn’t help admiring the candelabra closest to her, running a hand over the petals of one of the roses.

“Careful,” Agnes whispered to her, breaking off from the conversation she was having with her friends beside her. “You do not wish to snap one off, do you?”

“I will not snap… ah.” Susanna paused, prompting her godmother to laugh. In her adoration of the flowers, she had indeed picked one off. “Well, it was only fastened by the thinnest of twine.” Susanna tried a few times to put it back in place, yet it never quite looked perfect again. In the end, she snapped off the rose completely and kept it in her hand.

“Goodness, dear child. Move away from the candelabra before you cause any more trouble.” Agnes tugged on Susanna’s arm and led her to her two friends. “Julianna, Marie, I enlist your help.”

“Our help? Whatever for?” Julianna asked. Known as Lady Dalwhimphle to her more formal friends, she was a widow and had the virtue of remaining unmarried for a long a time, a lot like Agnes, thanks to the wealth that had befallen her. She turned her eagle-shaped head in Susanna’s direction.

“I am determined to find Susanna a new friend amongst the ton.”

“I have Donald, Agnes,” Susanna tried to remind her godmother.

“Yes, but one needs more than one friend.”

“Oh, Agnes,” Susanna sighed with the word, feeling the embarrassment bleed in her cheeks until she turned red.

“Are we looking for a friend? Or a husband?” Julianna asked.

“A friend!” Susanna replied so fast that all three ladies laughed.

I have no wish to be married.

Susanna knew well enough what would happen if she married. Had she not heard of the situation time and time again from Agnes? How a woman’s freedoms could be stifled by giving herself to a man?

“Just a friend, please,” Susanna reiterated, her voice a little slower this time.

“What a shame, because I could have pointed out plenty of possible husbands.” Julianna tapped her chin with the words and looked around the room. “Baron Rusk, for instance. Quite the gentleman.” She gestured to a tall and rather portly man.

“Quite the elderly gentleman indeed,” Susanna whispered, prompting Agnes to laugh so hard into her glass of champagne that she seemed to blow more bubbles in the hazy liquid.

“What of Lord Edgeware?” Marie asked. Agnes’ other friend, Lady Marie Sinclair, was still very much married though she and her husband lived entirely different lives, much to her own delight. “Now, he certainly is of a good age to be married.”

“Certainly.” Susanna nodded in agreement. “Though I doubt he has the inclination. Did you not hear the rumors of Lord Edgeware and his butler?”

Agnes laughed once again at Susanna’s side. Julianna and Marie exchanged certain looks as if they thought Susanna should not be so bold, but her godmother did not reprimand her. She had a habit of letting Susanna speak her mind.

“What of the Duke of Belbridge then?” Julianna suggested, pointing through the crowd.

I do not know him by sight.

Susanna turned her head, seeking out the man. That’s when she noticed the gentleman properly. He was striding across the room, rather formally, with his suit so pristine it must have taken forever for his valet to prepare it. What struck Susanna most though was his face.

I know him. I have seen him before. This very morning!

He was the stranger she had raced on her ride through the park.

“Oh, my, she has no complaint to make against him, does she?” Agnes said from beside her.

“Hmm?” Susanna was distracted, barely taking note of what was said around her. She could not take her eyes off this gentleman.

He was as handsome as she had thought him to be that morning. He was tall, incredibly so, towering over other men in the room with hair so black that the deepest night sky could not rival it. It was coiffed excessively, slicked in such a way that not a hair was out of place. It made her very aware of her own mad curls. He had a strong jaw and a stern brow, but she could remember still how that face had lit up with his smiles that morning.

It is like the night sky when the moon comes out. Suddenly brightened!

Then, he turned. He seemed to be looking for someone in the room. That’s when his eyes found hers.

He didn’t look away. They just stood there for a minute, each staring, with a sea of other people between them.

“Susanna, I said, do you know the Duke?”

“I’m sorry?” Susanna whipped round to face Agnes. She tried to forget the burning feeling of the Duke of Belbridge staring at her in such a way.

My, my, I raced a Duke! I was so outspoken to him too. How funny!

The idea amused Susanna greatly, making it all the more difficult to concentrate on what Agnes was saying.

“Do you know the Duke, Susanna?” Agnes asked again. “I only ask because you seem to be looking at each other rather intently. Not to mention he is currently walking this way.”

“He is not,” Susanna murmured, only to look round and see that it was true. “Oh, he is.”

“I say we make ourselves scarce,” Agnes cajoled her friends. “I am old now and do not doubt my goddaughter would not thank me for embarrassing her in front of a duke.”

“Agnes, don’t leave me.” Susanna reached out to take her godmother’s arm, but she was too late. Agnes had already taken the arms of her friends and hurried off, leaving Susanna conveniently behind.

He’s very close now!

Susanna didn’t know whether to be embarrassed and feel her face flush bright red or to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He was a Duke, and now he was coming to speak to her.

When he reached her side and bowed, she hurried to curtsy too, yet it was a little fumbled.

Well, I never was very good at such formal things.

“Did you come for a formal introduction, Your Grace?” she asked, standing straight, and meeting his gaze once again.

“Your Grace?” A smile grew on his face. Once more, the dark features were instantly lightened. “Ah, I see you have learnt my identity. I am no longer to be addressed as ‘stranger’, then?”

“I have indeed.” Susanna was rather intrigued by this meeting. There were plenty of people at this event, and the Duke could have gone to speak to any of them. Why had he come to speak to her?

“You have an advantage over me, then. For I do not know your name.” He gestured to her. “After such a hint, this is usually the moment where a lady introduces herself.”

“I am not like most ladies,” Susanna murmured.

“I had noticed.” At his words, the two of them laughed. Susanna laughed without restraint. It was so sudden, that she noticed the Duke’s laugh quickly died. Even a couple of ladies turned to look at her from nearby.

They think I should laugh demurely and be shy!

The Duke seemed abruptly uncomfortable. He pulled on his cravat and glanced in the direction of the other young ladies. Susanna was made curious by such an action. He was the one who had come to talk to her, and had even been the first to laugh, but now… was he regretting it?

“I have embarrassed you, Your Grace,” she murmured in realization and nodded her head in the direction of the ladies. “Shall I laugh behind a clasped hand? Or perhaps I should have brought a fan with me and wafted it in front of my face like a butterfly as I laugh?”

“Most ladies do,” he pointed out slowly.

“Should I remind you?”

“No need. You are not like most ladies. I learned that this morning.” He didn’t look back to the group of ladies again but kept his focus upon her. “Would you tell me your name?”

“Susanna.” She found the word fell from her lips. “Lady Susanna Curtis, daughter of the late Earl of Gillet.”

“Lady Curtis.” He bowed his head to her again as if in second greeting.

“Call me Lady Susanna.”

“I could not do that.”

“Everyone does,” she insisted.

“But it would not be proper.”

“Are you a man that concerns yourself with being proper, Your Grace?” She waited, watching as he held his breath, pausing before answering her. No words came, and they just stared at each other. “Was that the wrong question to ask, Your Grace?”

“I find another question leaping to my mind.” He stepped toward her and offered his hand. “Would you care to dance, Lady Curtis?”