Page 3 of The Duke and the Spinster

Chapter Two

Juliana was pleased when her mother chose a quiet spot on the edges of the ballroom at Hallingbrook Grange, where a couch and two chairs provided enough seating for them all. The potted palms and the draperies which also filled the edges of the alcove gave her some hope of remaining inconspicuous. Eleanor saw things completely differently.

“Oh Mother! I know that having seats is a good idea, but here? In this dingy corner? How will any of the gentlemen even notice me here?”

“Don’t fuss, Eleanor. We will move about the room for a time, meeting others that we may know – although there are precious few here that we do know. At least there are enough that we will be able to obtain introductions as needed. And this does mean that there are many eligible gentlemen here that have not seen you before…”

Eleanor stopped, struck by the significance of her mother’s words, then turned to study, more closely, the people filling the room.

Juliana was also studying them, but for completely different reasons. She found people fascinating if she did not have to interact with them. Their mannerisms and movements gave away so much about their thoughts and their personalities.

It was only when she had to speak to them, or, heaven forbid, dance with them, that she wished herself anywhere else but there. If a gentleman spoke to her, she became, in her own mind, instantly as she had been three years before, when she had stumbled through dances, tripped over her own feet, and embarrassed herself in every way imaginable. Her first Season had been her last, by her own choice – she never wished to expose herself to feeling like that again. It did not matter that she had spent the three years since being intensely careful about how she stood, how she moved, how she spoke – the second that a man addressed her, all of that fell away, and she was the gawky clumsy, too tall girl again.

Her father, aware of how Juliana usually approached the world, began to quietly inform her of who was who. Most of the wealthy and titled people from the local area were there - the Earl of Rothlyn, the Marquess of Westwood, Baron Torsford, Viscount Mooresfield – whose house this was – and Mr William Allgood. Notably absent was the Duke of Kilmerstan – Eleanor would be disappointed if he did not appear for the evening. The Ball was the official start of the long house party, and was quite the glittering event.

There were others of significance, drawn from Bath, and even as far away as London. Her father did not know them all by name, but their dress and manner marked them out as of the nobility. Juliana studied them all carefully, amused by the posturing of the newly rich.

Even amongst the wealthy and titled, there were layers in society – layers that were quite visible, as people interacted – or chose not to. Layers in which Juliana’s family were, despite the title, rather close to the bottom, for they were by no means fabulously wealthy.

Eleanor and Lady Delbarton moved off into the room, circulating amongst the guests, garnering introductions. Soon, as was to be expected, Eleanor was surrounded by a cluster of hopeful young men. Juliana marvelled at how easily Eleanor dealt with it, how happy, how graceful she seemed, no matter what. She envied her that ability, oh, so much!

Turning her eyes away from Eleanor, suddenly unable to stand watching it, she looked to the door where Viscount Mooresfield stood, welcoming arriving guests. He had just finished speaking to a gentleman who turned to move into the room as the next guest stepped up to the host.

Juliana became completely still. He was striking – tall, very dark hair, a lean hard body, well displayed by perfectly tailored clothes, and a handsome face, with strong, almost severe lines to it. There was nothing of the fop or dandy about this man. Plain colours and simple elegance made him stand out far more than any amount of ostentation could. And he moved with the kind of fluid, controlled smoothness that Juliana longed to be able to emulate.

For the first time in a very long time, Juliana was gazing at a man she found undeniably attractive. It was a rather disturbing thing to realise.

“Ah, Juliana – see, over there by the door – the Duke of Kilmerstan has made his appearance.”

Her father’s voice broke the spell the new arrival had cast upon her, and she turned, looking as casually unconcerned as possible.

“Oh? That’s the Duke? I’m sure that Eleanor will be thrilled. He’s rather… severe looking, isn’t he?”

“By all accounts, most women find him attractive. He’s unmarried, but the gossips say he’ll be looking for a wife soon, for his only heir is a distant cousin that, it’s said, he doesn’t like. His brother was killed in France, and he’s two sisters to find husbands for, so he’ll be a busy man for the next few years.”

Her father chuckled, amused by the fact that, no matter a man’s title, some things remained the same – finding husbands for young ladies was a daunting task.

Juliana turned back to studying the room, finding her eyes drawn to the Duke, inescapably. He had greeted various people, then stopped to talk to Baron Torsford. The eyes of most of the young women in the room were on him, and it seemed obvious that they were all hoping for his attention. One rather determined looking woman was moving in his direction. She was a little solidly built, and dressed in the height of fashion, as far as style, but in such a terrible combination of colours and patterns that Juliana felt ill at the sight.

Observing the manoeuvring that would undoubtedly occur throughout the evening should be amusing indeed. She settled in to simply watch, quite confident that, if she stayed quietly trucked away, no-one would ask her to dance.

~~~~~

Garrett had forced himself to regard the Ball at Hallingbrook Grange as potentially interesting, when his first instinct was to avoid it completely. Isabelle and Eugenia were full of enthusiasm, and his mother was determined that they took the opportunity to meet potential suitors. Apparently, there were eligible gentlemen coming from London, and Bath.

Upon arrival at the Grange, his mother and sisters had almost immediately disappeared into the crush of people, seeking out friends to chatter with, and to leverage for introductions, leaving him to greet George, Viscount Mooresfield, at the door.

“Good evening. I must apologise for my mother and sisters somewhat unseemly haste. It appears that the lure of gossip is greater than that of ordinary conversation.”

“Your Grace, it’s good to see you here tonight. And as for gossip… I’m sure that your presence will set off a cascade of hope in the hearts of the unmarried ladies here, who will then discuss you incessantly. I have recently come to realise that the benefits of being betrothed are manifold, and one of those benefits is no longer being the subject of that kind of discussion and attention.”

Garrett laughed, and gently clapped the Viscount on the shoulder.

“Yes, congratulations. I hope that you’ll be happy. Although… I doubt you’re done with gossip, for, by marrying the baker’s daughter, you’ve given them plenty to whisper about, haven’t you?”

“Very true, very true. But I shall weather the storm.”

They spoke a moment more, then Garrett moved away into the room. People greeted him as he slipped through the crowds, and he could feel the eyes of the women upon him – the mothers who wanted their daughters to be a Duchess, and the daughters who craved the title. He doubted that one in twenty of them cared at all about him as a man. Although he was equally sure that they were pleased that he was young, and not ill favoured.