Mustering a smile, Amelia nodded. “I am sure Lily will prepare me perfectly.”
“Good.” Bernadette hovered before clasping Amelia’s face. “I wish for this Season to go well for you, Amelia. Do not think too hard on this nasty scandal business with the Duke of Blackthorn. It shall all pass.”
“Do you wish me to avoid him?”
“I wish you do what feels correct for you. I just do not want you to finish another Season unsuccessfully.”
She appreciated her mother’s words but they did not feel clear enough for her. How was she supposed to know the correct thing to do?
“Mama,” she began, but hesitated. She forced a smile, not wanting to admit her confusion, and how out of her depth she felt. “It is no matter. I shall enjoy wearing the new gown.”
With that, she hurried out of the entry hall and went to her chamber. In there, she shut the door and sank into her bed, sighing. She wished to see His Grace again but the thought of facing further ridicule anchored a bone-deep fear into her. For both of them. Although the event promised to be the social highlight of the week, attending was the last thing that Amelia wished to do. Unable to keep still despite feeling weakened by her thoughts, Amelia paced, her frantic thoughts whipping into a blizzard in her mind.
She would venture forth and face the social currents with courage.Yes, she resigned herself to decide.I shall go, and I shall show Cassandra that she cannot intimidate me.
But then she thought of the giggles behind fans, and the looks that followed her through a normal social event, and knew it would only be heightened by the recent turn of events. Anxiety gnawed through her as she swung back and forth between her decision.
His Grace’s deep, brown eyes warred with Cassandra’s malicious sneer, until she fell to her bed once again, utterly exhausted by her own thoughts.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kensington House buzzed with activity, as the doors to the townhouse were open, and a greeting line extended down the steps.
Amelia, dressed in her sky-blue muslin dress and a silk shawl draped over her elbows, snaking behind her back, could not help but search the line discreetly for any sign of the Duke of Blackthorn.I wonder if he shall even make an appearance,she thought. He had forgone plenty of social events, excusing himself increasingly.
To even have seen him at Lady Smith’s ball was a rare occurrence, yet she could not help but hope he would, in fact, turn up.
Lord William and Lady Cynthia Kensington stood at the door to their home, bright, charming smiles on their faces. Beside them, Cassandra was the vision of beautiful, in a flowing seasonal gown with a curved neckline, and her hair curled up into a large, elegant bun that had pearls embedded into it.
Although Amelia felt pretty enough, she could not help feeling plain in comparison, despite the flowers Lily had arranged in her hair, and her new gown that flowed down her figure perfectly. Her heart sank. She had never before experienced any sort of competitive thoughts against another lady of the ton but she felt a streak of insecurity as she and her family neared the entrance.
If Cassandra was attempting to win the duke’s attention she no doubt would, and Amelia would be proven right: that her one night of dancing and favor was a dream that could not continue, and the highest ranked suitor and the most beautiful woman of the ton would seek out one another.
She inhaled deeply as she and her parents took another step towards the entrance, closer to the Kensingtons. Closer to Cassandra and her cunning smile.
“Ah, Hawthornes, I am most glad you could make it.” Lord Kensington’s greeting was warm as he reached out to shake Amelia’s father’s hand. Beside him, Lady Kensington offered a polite, formal smile.
“What a beautiful day for a garden party,” Bernadette gushed, smiling brightly. “It is an honour to be here, Lord Kensington.”
As they progressed past the lord and lady, Amelia caught Cassandra’s eye.
“Miss Hawthorne,” Cassandra said, her voice as sweet as sugar. “Howlovelyit is to see you again, and so soon after our previous encounter. Our time in the park was most entertaining, was it not?”
With the eyes of both of their parents on her, Amelia could only nod. “Indeed. However, I hope today might feel a little… calmer.”
Cassandra only laughed maliciously, her hand flicking in dismissal as if Amelia was being foolish.
Amelia hurried on with her parents, progressing deeper into the Kensingtons’ pristine, pale house with its tall, echoing ceiling, and wide hallways. The doors were flung open, allowing a steady flow of air through the halls. As they were shown into the garden, Amelia could not help scan every group or passing person for the familiar face of the Duke of Blackthorn, her mind racing with the potential of seeing him again.
***
Outside, two carriages pulled up at the same time as one another.
Eleanor stepped out of her carriage, right as the Radcliffe carriage pulled up outside the Kensington manor at the same time. Her pulse spiked as the door opened, and her eyes immediately found the soft, blonde curls of Lord Owen. He had not yet seen her but as he closed the door behind himself, he turned, spotting her.
A wide grin broke on his face, and Eleanor wished for nothing more than to go over to him to be able to speak—to ask about anything at all so she could talk to him.
Yet she was ushered to ascend the steps to the Kensington residence, and in her haste, she stumbled. In a blind panic of not wanting to hold up the line, Eleanor tried to hurry herself on and forgot to lift her skirts ever so slightly. Her shoe caught on the hem of her gown, and she began to fall forward with a gasp.
