Chapter Seventeen

D ory gripped the balustrade so hard, she wasn’t sure if she could let go. She was an experiment? To better the school’s reputation? For the dead woman Fen—Lord Harewood still loved?

Her heart pounded as tears sprang to her eyes. He hadn’t done it to help her . He didn’t care about her .

She’d been so excited, so happy when Rose told her Harewood would be at the ball. The idea that he might ask for her hand in marriage had made it impossible to rest, as Lady Enderly had demanded. But that had never been his intention.

With her hopes and dreams shattered like the leftover crumbs from a pound cake, she felt a piercing pain fill her chest. She released the balustrade as she covered her mouth to stifle the sob. Turning, she stepped back into her room and closed the door on the men’s now-muffled voices.

She was no more than an experiment. An experiment. A successful experiment. As the truth of his attentions to her settled in, it erased every tangled thought in her head, leaving her with one. He didn’t care about her.

A new pain in her belly grew so strong that she ran for the chamber pot. Tears streamed down her face as she emptied her stomach. That he could be so cruel as to make her think he cared was unpardonable. She grasped on to her anger as she wiped her mouth and moved to her bed. She fanned the flames, trying to burn out the heartache seizing her chest.

She grabbed on to the post at the foot of the bed to hold herself up. Memories of their time together flooded her in neat order. No wonder she’d been confused when he’d drawn her into conversation and wasn’t sure if he sought to help or simply liked to see her ramble and play the fool. Then there was his assurance that he’d known exactly what to do for her and why it would work, when it had been no more than a guess.

She pushed away from the post, pressing her nails into her palms. How could she have not realized it when she read his palm? That crease in his heart line must mean his heart was dead. And their night together? Had that been more preparation for her successful marriage? “ I will not ruin you for your future husband. ” His words returned in a rush. He’d truly meant it.

The pain in her chest just made her angrier. He’d played with her for his own amusement. Oh, yes, and for the precious reputation of the school, not because he valued the school and its intent, but solely because it was named in honor of his lost love, the Angel.

She spun around and grabbed up her favorite cheerful blue dress that had been laid out for the ball, a choice made by her own na?veté. Stalking to the armoire, she shoved it back in and pulled out her maroon dress. It fit her mood better. She was far from na?ve now. She brought it back to the bed and laid it out. She didn’t care if it had wrinkles, though there didn’t appear to be any. She hoped it made her appear like an avenging fury of ancient Greece.

A vision filled her head of her as an angry goddess flying down to grab up Harewood by her claws, high into the sky on her way to a giant falcon nest where three babies awaited their meal.

“My lady?”

Hearing the voice, she shook her head as knocking on her door brought her back to her angry present. “Yes.” Walking to the door, she unlocked it and allowed Lady Sommerset’s maid to come in. “I’ve chosen a different dress.”

As the maid helped her change and decorate her hair, she forced herself to focus on her appearance. She wished to look her best when she revealed what she knew to Lord Harewood. Now she was anxious to attend the ball for a completely different reason.

No sooner was the maid finished than Lady Sommerset came for her and they made their way into the ballroom, which had been transformed into a celestial night with stars, with a bright, full moon and faeries upon night-blooming mythical flowers. The light, instead of casting a golden glow, had been transformed into white, making the entire room unearthly.

“The marchioness prides herself on creating atmosphere.” Lady Sommerset kept her voice low as others milled about the room, commenting on the decorations. “I understand there are dryads and even a mechanical owl that hoots.”

“Are there any bats?”

Lady Sommerset looked askance at her. “I don’t believe so.”

Dory wanted to see bats hanging from the high ceiling, but of course that wouldn’t do. Obviously, her mood had darkened with the room. “Oh, good. They would eat the faeries.”

“Perhaps my sister can better appreciate your observations.”

At the mention of her teacher, she brightened. Lady Northwick, who, with her husband, the duke, ran the school and always had wisdom to spare. The pair were guests of Lord and Lady Enderly and Dory would be leaving with them the next day for Silver Meadows, her father having made the arrangements. She was pleased she would be traveling directly to the school and not going home.

As she and Lady Sommerset approached the duchess, the lady in question held out both her hands. “Lady Dorothea, have you enjoyed your stay? I have heard that you have been quite popular.”

She took Lady Northwick’s hands and shrugged, not particularly pleased that Harewood had succeeded in making her so. “It has been very educational. Now, I am anxious to begin my second-year studies. Thank you for allowing me to return with you.”

Lady Northwick smiled warmly, her hazel eyes sparkling with delight as the single curl of dark hair brushed her shoulder. “We are very pleased to have you. Perhaps you can tell us all about your stay during our travels. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your final fete.”

As Lady Sommerset asked about their older sister, the Viscountess of Blackmore, who was with child, Lady Northwick relayed what was in her last letter. The two women chatted about all that had occurred since they last saw each other during the season. They appeared like the sun on a lake, Lady Sommerset in a pretty yellow dress and Lady Northwick in a bright blue, very close in shade to one Dory had planned to wear earlier instead of the deep maroon she wore now. The reddish color matched her somber mood much better.

Studying the room, she found Harewood talking to his father. He appeared bored, which she quite relished. Now that his experiment had succeeded, whatever would he do next? Suddenly, she remembered what he’d said about making all the ladies at school a success. She glanced at Lady Northwick. She was fiercely protective of her school. What would she think of that?

A small pleasure rippled through her mind at the prospect of thwarting Harewood’s plans. Now, if only the night would end quickly so she could leave for Silver Meadows and tell Lady Northwick about everything. Then she could leave the problem in her capable hands and be among her friends again, in a place where she wouldn’t have to count her sentences. Not that she’d said much to anyone over the past half hour.

She moved her gaze over the room. Lady Rose grimaced at her as she danced side by side with Mr. Retfield, no doubt to please her mother. Lady Arabella was partnered with Lord Manning in the same dance. Lady Matilda conversed with Lady Enderly, who appeared a bit distracted. Interestingly, Lord Leighhall had not approached her. She’d expected some untoward action to separate her from her chaperone. It was the final night, after all. Either that or he planned to make an announcement to everyone that he’d seen her leaving Harewood’s room.

She barely held back a snort. What would Harewood think about that? Part of her wished Leighhall would tell everyone, so Harewood’s experiment would be a failure. Waiting for Leighhall to say something or for her mother to do something had worn on her nerves and now she was tired with all of it. It was as if she were dead inside and all that kept her breathing was her fury at Harewood.

“Lady Dorothea, you look lovely this evening.”

At Lord Dearling’s words, she turned toward him, not having seen him approach. He wore the usual black trousers and tailcoat, which didn’t complement him. He was best suited to grays and tans.

“Thank you, Lord Dearling. You are quite skilled at the quadrille, I see.”

His neck turned slightly red at her compliment, though to be fair, she thought him no better than anyone else, but that was what she was supposed to say. Maybe he’d ask her to dance and she wouldn’t have to speak any more. She was sure she could continue to be polite even when she wanted to yell.

“That is kind of you to say so, but as you taught me by example, there is nothing wrong with admitting I’m only adequate.”

She smiled kindly, hoping that would be enough, her mind blank, no yarn, no twine, no lines of any kind, just empty. No, not empty. Her mind was like a great medieval hall with a fire burning at the center, one slowly growing.

“I had hoped you would be willing to take some air on the terrace?”

She stiffened. He would want to converse, maybe find out what event she would be at next. She didn’t want to attend anything. What if she said something completely out of character?

“With Lady Sommerset as well.” He smiled crookedly, as if he wished it could be otherwise.

“Did I hear my name?” Lady Sommerset turned her head and smiled at Lord Dearling.

“Yes, I wish to speak to Lady Dorothea on the terrace, where it is a bit quieter, and was hoping you could accompany us.”

Dory crossed her fingers behind her back in hopes that Lady Sommerset would demure.

“I would be very pleased to. Allow me to wave down my husband, as he very much enjoys the terrace at night.”

As Lord Dearling’s face lit, Dory pasted on a smile, gritting her teeth. Mayhap she could simply listen. The conversation would be short if she didn’t respond. She looked about the room as if searching for Lord Sommerset as well, but her gaze caught upon Harewood, who conversed with the Duke of Northwick.

As Lord Sommerset strode over at his wife’s wave, Lord Dearling offered her his arm. Seeing no way to avoid it, she laid her gloved hand upon it and allowed him to lead her. They traversed the edge of the ballroom, since the dance floor was quite filled. Not only were the house guests attending, but also a number of neighboring families.

“Are you enjoying the evening so far? I noticed you haven’t danced as yet.” Lord Dearling’s question held deeper meaning that she was far too distracted to contemplate.

“I have been enjoying conversation with my instructor, the Duchess of Northwick.” It was hardly the truth since she’d not added a single comment between the sisters, but truthfully, she heard the entire conversation and actually caught a few points that seemed to leave her head as soon as they’d entered.

They strolled through the doors behind Lord and Lady Sommerset, the slightly cooler temperature the only recognition that they were outside, as the terrace was lit brighter than the ballroom. Maybe Lady Enderly had wanted it to appear as if sunrise were approaching.

“I do hope I can make your evening far more enjoyable.” Lord Dearling leaned in, and his breath tickled her ear.

She forced herself not to raise her shoulder in defense. Did he mean to infer that the duchess was not thoroughly interesting? He well knew that she was a student at the school, as they had discussed it many times. Did he think it a chore to attend? It was the only home she—

He stopped, releasing her before taking her hand and facing her. “May I?” He held out his other hand.

For a moment, she didn’t understand what he wanted but finally, comprehension dawned and she put her other gloved hand in his.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck. How odd it was that men had one and women didn’t. She hadn’t read the reason for the difference. But then again, there were many differences between the genders.

“Lady Dorothea, surely, you have remarked on what high esteem I hold you in. I mean that I hold you in the highest esteem.” His right eye twitched. “Your grace and your beauty have won me over, and I find my heart is full when with you.”

“My lord, I am honored.” Honored, but also uncomfortable, as she could not reciprocate his feelings. Her heart had died and to feel was to be in pain. Could he not tell? It was much better to be angry.

“No, I am honored that you would grant me your attentions on so many occasions. I have become quite dependent upon them. So much so that the thought of leaving this lovely place and not seeing you again until in Town once more fills me with such sorrow that I cannot bear it.”

Surely, he did not wish to visit her at school? If he asked, she would say it was not allowed, though she wasn’t sure if that were the truth. She tried to remember if any of her classmates had been visited by anyone not of their family. The squeezing of both her hands brought her back to Lord Dearling, who gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in all of England.

“Lady Dorothea, I fear I cannot live without seeing you daily. So to that end, I would ask you to consider becoming my betrothed. I have already written my dear mother and told her of my feelings toward you, so I know she will approve. I will, of course, travel to request your father’s permission as soon as the morrow, but I wish to know you would be amenable to it. We could be married in your parish church, as I would travel far and wide to have you as my wife. I find my heart beats only for you and this strong emotion I have inside me can only be labeled love. I believe you may hold some small affection for me, and I’m sure that in time, it would grow. Would you consider such an arrangement?”

She stared at him in shock. He was asking her to marry him? She forced the fire in her mind to be covered and studied him, knowing he was kind and would no doubt treat her well. This had been her hope in coming to Sunnydale, that she find a man who would consider her for marriage before her mother embroiled the family in a scandal. She blinked, trying to find some emotion for the man, but she could not. Another had shown her what it was to be in love and had killed that feeling. “My lord, you have truly surprised me.”

His neck turned red. “I did not mean to. I thought my feelings were quite clear.”

As she looked back upon it, they were. It was her own focus on Harewood and her feelings for that man that had led her to ignore what was before her. Even as she thought of Harewood and the fact that she was an experiment, the fire threw flames out from beneath its cover. She wanted to turn away from Lord Dearling’s offer simply to prove Harewood wrong. But as she looked into Dearling’s hopeful eyes, she could not in good conscience do him such an injustice. She needed to sort out her own situation. She would probably never love a man again, and now that she knew what it was to be led astray, she couldn’t be so cruel.

She managed a small smile. “Yes, you have made your feelings very clear. I simply did not expect such a proposal this evening. Your enthusiasm is very flattering.”

His stiffened body relaxed and he grinned. “I am pleased. It was only this morning that I decided I must ask you. Do you find my proposition favorable, then?”

It was all she had hoped for before the end of the season, before she’d fallen in love with the wrong man. Though two other men had danced attendance on her, she could not be sure either Lord Manning or Mr. Retfield would ask for her hand in time. Despite the panic that started in her chest, she took a deep breath and nodded. This was what she must do. She had no alternative. “I do.”