Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

H er reflection in the mirror didn't succeed in improving her mood. Her stomach felt too tight and achy and she couldn't even blame her corset because the lady's maid hadn't tied it too tight.

The dress was perfect and once again, Madame Vandeleur had outdone herself. It was a very pale blue that appeared almost silver, especially with the tiny beads sewn into it. The small cap sleeves were trimmed with the tiniest bit of lace and the decolletage exposed a hint of cleavage. She should have felt like a princess in the dress but all she felt was a sense of foreboding.

"You look perfect," Lady Hartfield said as they climbed up into the carriage.

"Thank you," she tried to smile but she didn't quite manage the expression. Her aunt's eyes went wide with panic and just as the woman opened her mouth to say something, she pointedly turned her face to the side, staring out the glass window.

"Halt! Halt!" Noah's booming voice sounded and the two women turned to where he was hurrying down the steps of the house and toward the carriage.

He climbed in and settled beside Lavinia with a wide smile.

"I cannot believe that you are willingly coming to a ball room," she teased her cousin. "Do not tell me you have formed a tendre with one of the ladies of the ton ."

He shuddered dramatically, "I can safely say that I have done no such thing."

Lady Hartfield tutted, "you should."

The man rolled his eyes with a smile then turned to Lavinia, "Yyou look wonderful, cousin. Will the Duke be at the ball?"

"Of course," she narrowed her eyes at him, "why?"

He only shrugged, "no reason. But I will not let you out of my sight tonight."

She fisted the material of the dress at her thighs, "I do not remember hiring a personal guard."

"You would not be able to afford me anyway," he shot her a look that was rife with meaning. "I will be doing this completely free of charge."

"I don't need you to watch me," she snapped, "I have Aunt Felicity with me."

"What is going on here?" Lady Hartfield asked, gaze flying between them.

She pressed her mouth into a thin line and stared at her cousin with irritation. How dare he be an overbearing oaf tonight of all nights? She had planned to have a private discussion with Victor tonight but that would be impossible with Noah watching her like a hawk.

He was probably trying to protect her from whatever he thought happened the other night.

With a huff, she sat back in her chair and turned to the window.

"Nothing, Mother," Noah replied, "I am only trying to look out for Lavvie."

She didn't need to be looked after. She was an adult and she could handle herself. After all she was to be a Duchess in a short time. Or not.

The carriage finally pulled to a stop in front of Greenwood house and the party of three climbed out and then made their way into the house.

When Priscilla, a duke's daughter had shocked the ton a few years ago and married a man without a title, so many members of polite society had gossiped and mocked her, until it had been revealed that Greenwood was as wealthy as Croesus. Since then, the Greenwood yearly ball had become one of the most exclusive parties of the season.

It was the first time the Hartfields had been invited.

"You must be Miss Proctor," Priscilla Greenwood smiled at her at the receiving line, "Welcome to Greenwood house. I have heard a lot about you and I do so hope you live up to the reputation."

She smiled back, "I hope I do too."

The ballroom was already packed with people and Lavinia immediately tried to spot the Duke or his sister.

"Looking for your duke?" Noah teased.

"He's not mine," she said absently.

"Has something happened?" Lady Hartfield piped up and Lavinia had the insane urge to tell her the entire thing, get it off get chest and allow her to tell her exactly what to do.

"Of course not," she chuckled, "I just think it is quite presumptuous to call him my anything. Don't you think?"

"Oh, Lavvie," the woman sighed and her eyebrows were drawn down into a sad look.

"Why are you looking at me in that way?" Panic gripped her chest. Did Lady Hartfield know something?

"Felicity!" A woman's excited voice cried, saving the conversation from delving into something else that she wasn't ready to talk about.

Lady Forsythe approached them, her son in tow and as usual, wearing an ominous frown like an adornment over his exquisite clothing.

She quickly dropped into a curtsy, "My lord, my lady."

"Miss Proctor," the Marquess nodded, "May I interest you in taking a stroll about the room with me?"

She wondered if she would be able to sneak away from him to have a private conversation with the Duke and then felt ashamed for once again thinking of how to use him for her own purposes.

"Of course, my lord."

Her cousin stared at her strangely as she placed her hand on his sleeve but eventually turned away.

"I hear you are engaged to the Duke of Wyld," he began as soon as they moved a little distance away, causing her to glance up sharply at him.

"You do not strike me as the sort to listen to gossip."

"It is not true then?"

She suddenly remembered her conversation with Jenny earlier and the advice the girl had given her. "It is true. Can I speak to you in confidence?"

"Please."

She gulped and tried to calm her racing heart, "My- eh- arrangement to the Duke may be coming to an end."

His steps didn't falter, "and may I ask why?"

"You may ask, but I shall not answer."

One corner of his mouth kicked up. "Why is it that you are telling me this? I do not believe it's because I look trustworthy."

She bit her lip in thought. Here came the complicated part, "I cannot end the engagement without thrusting my family into a terrible scandal. But I believe that if I can make it appear that I ended the engagement because I fell in love with-"

He made an amused sound deep in his throat that made her glance at him sharply. By now, they had reached a secluded area of the room and she let him go and faced him. "What is so funny?"

"Has anyone told you that you are impertinent?"

"Are you telling me that I am, my lord?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What exactly are you asking me, Miss Proctor?" he asked with all seriousness and she almost changed her mind. Almost abandoned the whole scheme and told him she had made a mistake.

She squared her shoulders and stared at him, "I am enquiring if you are in the market for a wife."

He smiled at her but there was something cold about the smile. The Marquess was an attractive man, but he also made her uncomfortable. The Duke on the other hand put her at ease, perhaps too much at ease.

"I do not believe I am."

"Then this conversation is over. I hope you will not gossip about this to someone else."

"Who would I gossip to?" he asked. "Have you truly not noticed that I am something of a pariah in society?"

The question gave her pause, and she didn't know if it was because the words were rendered without inflection, like he couldn't be bothered with what everyone thought about him or because she was suddenly realizing that they had several eyes on them.

"Why?"

He chuckled, "I will allow you to find that out by yourself and then you can decide if you want to rescind your offer of marriage or not."

"I am desperate."

He took her hand and bowed over it. "Let me escort you back to your mother."

The marquess took his leave just as the first strings of the waltz sounded through the room. Lavinia felt his presence even before she heard his voice.

"Miss Proctor," the Duke's voice washed through her and made her knees weak. She almost fell to her knees at his feet but managed to lock her limbs together and smile up at him. By some cruel miracle, he managed to get even more beautiful each time she saw him and the slow, leisurely way his gaze dragged down her frame only made her remaining senses fly away with urgency.

"Your Grace," she and her aunt dropped into a deep curtsy.

At their side, Noah gave a shallow bow and watched the man with distrust.

"You promised me your first waltz," he smiled at her and offered her his arm. And then she was being swept away and to the dance floor with the rest of the couples there.

"How is your sister?"

He sighed, "she still believes I am the very devil. I am setting plans in place to find her a suitable match."

"Oh," she said carefully, but she wanted to roar at him about why he didn't trust his sister's judgement.

"Someone who is far too sensible to submit to something as ridiculous as love," he scoffed. "The best marriages are built on friendship, respect and an understanding. Like what we have for example."

They didn't have anything in her opinion. Nothing that she wanted any part in to be precise. It was then that she made up her mind about their doomed arrangement.

"I have to speak to you," she began but before she could say anything else, she looked over his shoulder and caught someone's eye.

"About what?" he asked.

Lavinia couldn't exactly blurt out that she wanted to end the arrangement here in the middle of the dance floor where anybody could hear. This discussion was far too important to have in a public place.

"Not here," she smiled. "It's not important. I will tell you later."

His hand around her tightened and she was pulled closer into him. "What is the matter? I saw you with Forsythe earlier."

She was only too glad when the music came to an end and she distracted him with irrelevant observations till she was back at her family's side. It was a cowardly move, but she didn't care. She was overdue some cowardice.

"You cannot continue to escape me, Lavinia," her aunt told her after the Duke had walked away. "There is something going on and sooner or later, I will find out."

"What is going on?" Noah asked, peering at her closely.

"Nothing is going on. Nothing at all."

"Has the Duke done something again?" he hissed.

Lady Hartfield gasped, "what did he do?"

She glared at her cousin, "nothing at all."

"I am tired of hearing that word nothing. It may be my least favorite word of recent," her aunt growled. She had never heard her sound like that before and it shocked her into silence briefly.

"I can handle it," she told them, "I am handling it."

"You do not look like you are handling it at all," the older woman said softly. "You look unhappy and stressed and harried and I hate to see you like this, my child. I truly do."

She lowered her lashes, "I am in love with the Duke. And he does not love me back. He will never let himself love me."

The Hartfields exchanged a confused gaze and it was her cousin that finally spoke, "what do you mean he will not let himself love you?"

"Noah, do not," Lady Hartfield said, then turned to a pale Lavinia. "Whatever decision you make, we will all support you."

She wanted to bury her face in the woman's perfumed neck and weep, but instead she gave a brisk nod and continued to stare unseeing ahead of her.

Lavinia was about to make the most terrifying decision of her life and the worst of it was that there was only a small part of her that wanted her to do the right thing. And at the end of the day, she didn't know if it would win.