Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

" T he blue reticule or the silver?" Lavinia asked the lady's maid that she now shared with her aunt.

Hers had been one of the many servants that had quit mysteriously in the past few days.

"The silver," the girl said while attaching the last hair pin to her hair, "it brings out the color of the dress."

"I shall have the silver then," Lavinia nodded and rose from where she had been sitting in front of the dressing mirror.

Smoothing a hand down the front of her blue dress, she took a deep, cleansing breath and then made her way out the door and towards the spiral staircase.

Her cousin, who should have been waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, was curiously absent. She made to head back up to his suite of rooms.

"Lavvie, there you are," Lady Hartfield's voice stopped her.

She turned to see her aunt walking down the hall towards her.

"Aunt Felicity?" Her brow wrinkled up in confusion, "I see that you are dressed, are you out for the evening? Noah should be here any second and we can drop you off on our way."

"I heard all about the other night from Noah. How you spent most of the night arm in arm with Jenny."

She blinked at her aunt, "it was not as though I was rejecting gentleman left, right and center to spend time with my best friend. We were both relegated to the sidelines as usual."

Lady Hartfield tsked. "Neither of you should be on the sidelines. You are both beautiful girls. Jenny I can understand, the poor girl may just cause a mishap out on the dance floor. But you, Lavinia, you have no excuse."

Lavinia frowned. "The whole thing is ridiculous. It makes me feel like a commodity."

"Everyone is a commodity in some way. Right now, you have the power to be the one to sell yourself."

Before she could open her mouth and give a retort, her aunt cut her a sharp look, "save it, Lavinia. I'll be escorting you to the ball."

"Escorting me? That will not be necessary. Noah is doing a fine job being my escort."

Lady Hartfield nodded, "Of course he is. He is also doing a fine job of being wrapped around your little finger. I shall be escorting you to the ball tonight and that is that."

She watched the older woman with a feeling of mounting dread.

Just a few hours ago, she had complained to Jenny about her guardians' sudden interest about her marital chances, but the current exchange with her aunt left her feeling less annoyed and more panicked.

"O-of course," she stammered, "I'll be honored to have you there with me."

Her aunt's smile was small but sincere, "you look stunning, darling. If the gentlemen don't come running, then I shall know that they are blind as bats."

She gave her aunt a stiff, closed lip smile, annoyed by the fact that she even had to participate in this whole farce tonight.

Lavinia allowed herself to be led out to the waiting carriage and handed up into it, all the while keeping her smile fixed. Tonight, she had a plan to secure her position as a wallflower or as a thoroughly unmarriageable miss and her aunt's presence wasn't going to change that.

It was simple really and the best part was that she didn't need to get involved in a scandal.

The carriage deposited them at the front steps of Livingston house and the two women made their way up the stairs and past the front door.

"Lady Hartfield, is that you?" Lady Livingston exclaimed as they got to where she and the viscount were welcoming guests, "I did not think you would make an appearance. You have been rather scarce in public."

Lavinia's aunt chuckled, a nervous sound that caught the girl's attention and she turned to the older woman worriedly.

"I've been busy is all," the Countess replied, "Have you met my niece, Miss Proctor?"

The golden-haired woman turned to Lavinia, "Welcome to Livingston house. Have you met my son?"

It was then that Lavinia noticed the slender, baby-cheeked gentleman beside the viscountess.

Her son couldn't be a day above twenty, but from the calculating look in the woman's eyes, Lavinia saw that she was eager to foist him off to the first respectable lady she got her hands on.

She held back her shudder.

Mr. Livingston was trying and failing to make eye contact and she decided to get him out of his misery.

"Ahn, we seem to be holding up the line," she said with mock regret, "If you'll excuse us."

Grabbing her aunt's arm, she managed to steer her away and into the ballroom.

"Bless you, Lavvie," the older woman's eyes twinkled, "I was looking for the most polite way to leave that conversation. I do not wish Lady Livingston's wet behind the ears boy on you."

The girl laughed. How ridiculous it was that at her age she was an adult and at his, he was a child.

"I think I see Beatrice, come, let us say hello and get an introduction to her brother. He's an earl," Lady Hartfield said and began to lead them to a voluptuous, dark-haired woman.

Moments later, Lavinia was in the arms of an Earl whose name she couldn't remember. He was about her height and pudgy and he had stared unnecessarily too long at her chest.

"Where has the countess been hiding a beauty like you?" the man cooed.

"I have been doing the hiding all on my own," she shot him a smile.

"And why, pray tell, would you do something as terrible as deprive society of your charms?"

Judging by the fact that his eyes had not yet shifted away from her breasts, she knew exactly what charms he meant.

"Because people like you exist," she said so sweetly that it took him a while to process that she had just insulted him.

He jerked, trying to pull away but she held on tight. "I'm thirsty, I shall like to have a drink now," then just as she released him, the dance ended and she walked away, leaving him wide eyed behind her.

"How did it go?" her aunt asked her.

She swept her gaze over the crush, searching for a familiar head of red, "Oh it was nice."

Her aunt introduced her to a naval hero next and he asked her to dance. She readily accepted and let Sir Richard take her out to the floor.

"... And I practice discipline in my daily life. When I get married, my wife will be an extension of me and must learn to comport herself in public in a manner befitting my status."

Her first thought of his was that he was pompous and the second was that he loved the sound of his own voice a little bit too much.

"Hmmm," she nodded at him, "I-"

"Another thing to note-"

"I have no interest in knowing what rules, regulations and restrictions you shall impose on your future bride as I am not in the running for such a position," she cut in. He hadn't let her get in a word edge wise and she was sick of him.

"My feet hurt and I think I shall go sit down," she announced, "best of luck on your search."

She left him as slack jawed as she had left the Earl earlier.

"What happened? I can see the captain walking away," Lady Hartfield strained her neck to catch a glimpse of the man.

Lavinia shrugged, "something urgent came up."

Suspicion clouded the woman's eyes and she fixed her gaze on Lavinia's for a moment before turning away with a sigh. "Come let me introduce you to..." she trailed off, as her eyes caught something, "Oh goodness gracious, I see Lady Amarinthe with the Duke of Wyld."

Lavinia's heart gave a painful thud in her chest, "W-what!" she croaked, "a duke?"

"Come along now," she grabbed her wrist with an excited smile splitting her face.

"Your Grace, Lady Amarinthe," her aunt curtsied and Lavinia followed suit, trying to keep her eyes downcast so as not to meet the man's.

"Have you met His Grace, The Duke of Wyld?" Lady Amarinthe smiled, "Your Grace, The Countess of Hartfield and her niece Miss Proctor."

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace," Lavinia said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, is that a waltz starting up?" Lady Amarinthe asked, "You young people should dance. I need to talk to you, Hartfield."

Lavinia couldn't breathe. Was this really happening? She hadn't planned to run into the Duke tonight or any other night anymore. Two run-ins had to have been enough for fate.

The Livingston ball was one of the lower rank events and she assumed he would only be found in much more exclusive events.

He was as large and as striking as ever and he was staring down at her with amusement carved into his features.

"Shall we?" He held out his hand to her.

She didn't want to. Not at all. In fact, she was tempted to cry off for a completely made up reason. Unfortunately for her though, this was the young, eligible Duke and the whole room was watching them.

If she dared embarrass a man of his standing, she would be torn apart in seconds.

With a tight smile, Lavinia placed her gloved hands in his. A spark of electricity shot up her hand. She had never felt such a thing before and before she could yank her hand away in shock, his hand tightened around hers and he shot her a warning glance.

They took their place on the floor and he put a hand around her waist.

She sucked in a breath at his indecently close he felt. This close, his scent filled her lungs. Leather, man and something spicy that made her head whirl.

"Try not to step on my toes," she said quietly, still recovering from the disorienting sensation that was the Duke.

"I shall try my very best."

She glared up at him and the sides of his mouth curled up in obvious amusement. "You are very prickly."

"Prickly? How dare you?" she hissed.

"How dare I?" He raised a brow, "I thought we were being blunt? Or do you only appreciate bluntness when it is coming from you?"

She snapped her mouth shut and settled for just glaring at him.

"You do not seem to be having fun, Miss Lavinia," he continued.

"You only seem to be having fun at my expense," she countered as he spun her around.

"One has to get his little pleasures in life where one can," he shrugged. "Meanwhile, you looked like you were being led to the guillotine."

"That is..." she trailed off. Had she really?

"If you do not want to be here, then why are you?"

She scoffed, "easy for you to say, Your Grace. You are both a man and a duke with one of the oldest titles in the country. You are practically free to do as you please without any consequences."

He stiffened and his voice was a little cooler when he replied, "I wish."

Lavinia ignored him. "Whereas I am a woman, whose fate is determined by the whims of societal norms and the men, whether they be father, guardian or husband. There are very few options for women and this nightly charade is one of them."

If she weren't watching him so closely, she wouldn't have caught the flicker in his eyes. His expression turned thoughtful. "Hmm," he hummed, "Miss Proctor, I may just have a solution for you. For both of us in fact."

"A solution?" Lavinia asked doubtfully.

The tall man nodded seriously, "Yes. Meet me at the back garden five minutes after this dance."

Jade green eyes widened, "W-what? How dare you suggest an assignation?"

"It is nothing of the sort, I assure you," he replied, "it may come as a surprise to you, but I'm in a bit of a- er- stint. And I know just the way for both of us to get what we want."

The orchestra brought the music to an end and Lavinia curtsied to her partner before she placed her hand on his arm and he led her back to where the two older women stood.

"My ladies," then he looked at Lavinia and said too lowly for the others to hear, "I shall be waiting."

Lavinia watched him walk away, admiring the long lines and strong form. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts and turned to her aunt who was giving her a big, proud smile. She sighed. It was too bad that she was going to have to let her down.

"Excuse me, I think I see Jenny," she lied after a while.

"Alright, dear," Lady Hartfield said. "You two shouldn't wander too far."

Lavinia slipped through the crowds on a steady pace, making sure to not draw any attention by rushing out of the room. The garden was dark and looked deserted and for a second she was struck with a sharp disappointment.

"Miss Proctor," the Duke's voice called out from behind a row of hedges and she ducked under the arch to meet him.

It took her a while for her eyes to adjust to the dark only illuminated by a pale flash of moonlight.

"I cannot be gone for long," she warned him.

"This will not take long," he gave his assurance, "Miss Proctor, everything we discuss here will be in confidence, can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I would hate to have to come after you."

Her jaw dropped to the ground.

"I am under a bit of pressure to get a duchess and secure the line," he began, "but as of the moment, I have no interest in that. Which is why I have decided to come to you with a business agreement. You need a husband and I need a duchess. You will have no obligation to me except your duties as a hostess. You will have as much freedom as you wish, a sizeable stipend and as my duchess, you can do anything you want with the protection of my name."

She blinked at him, "y-you want me to marry you?" she screeched.

He leapt forward, slapped his hand over her mouth and then hissed at her, "not so loud."

If she had thought they were close during the dance, now they were pressed together indecently. Anyone who walked in on this scene would surely get the wrong message. Her reputation...

Ah, well, the Duke was offering her marriage after all.

His dark eyes caught hers for a second and he pulled his hand away, but didn't step back. She watched his gaze settle on her mouth.

Something was wrong with her, because she could not for the life of her move away. She was rooted to the ground by a strange force. Or maybe it was the intensity of his gaze as she swiped her tongue over her lips and they chased the movement.

"Y-Your Grace," she stammered breathlessly.

It snapped him out of whatever had come over him and he stepped back. The distance managed to bring her back to earth and she pressed a hand to her racing heart, feeling lightheaded and confused.

"That is my offer," his voice came out raspy and he cleared his throat, "it's the best offer you can ever get and you know it."

The arrogance of him!

"How dare-"

"Think about it, Miss Proctor," he cut in, "I will be expecting your reply before the week runs out. Excuse me."

Before she could even tell him that he didn't need to wait because her mind was made up, he was walking away.

She stared after his broad back until his dark coat blended into the night. Lord, but she had never met anyone as impudent as the man.

With an annoyed huff, she turned and stomped off in the opposite direction.