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Chapter 1
“That surely cannot be what happened to her! You’re not serious, are you?” Lydia Seymour asked her dearest friend, Marianne Haggerston, as they sat in Marianne’s bedroom together, putting the finishing touches on their hair. Unfortunately for them, neither girl was very skilled in hairstyling.
However, what detail they lacked in their hair they made up for in their dresses, for the two young women were both about to put on their very finest gowns. Marianne’s was a deep red to complement her dark, almost black hair, and Lydia’s was a sunny yellow that made her golden locks look even more radiant.
“How dare you question my report!” Marianne scolded her, tugging the length of ribbon from her hand and securing it in place on her head. “Yes, Nadine Drakesmoor was indeed tossed from her horse into the river in front of her suitor, Robert Tutty, and her dress was such a sheer white that he very nearly saw ... everything!”
Lydia gasped in horror. “Can you imagine that happening to one of us? If that were me, I would never show my face in society again!” Lydia attempted to shove an errant hair that had escaped the clutches of her hairpins, but no matter how much she poked and prodded, it simply would not stay. Finally, she resigned herself to the fact that she would have one curl bobbing in front of her face the whole night.
“Well, she certainly won’t be at the ball this evening,” Marianne informed her. “Her mother has forbid Robert from seeing her until ... Come to think of it, I cannot think of how her mother would ever allow Robert to see her again!”
Lydia fought to keep a straight face.
“Perhaps,” she posited, “if he were to wear a suit of the identical material Nadine had been wearing and then took a dip in that enormous, hideous fountain that they have at the front of the estate, that would make them even!”
Marianne burst out laughing, and Lydia immediately followed. “Can youimagine? Robert ‘The Hairy Beast’ Tutty ... naked? Good thing for Nadine, though, he’d probably have so much hair all over that she wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway!”
Marianne continued howling, but Lydia swatted her playfully. “Now, now, we must not consider any gentlemen who we might run into tonight ... without clothing. I do not believe I could maintain my composure in front of any of them if we did that.”
“Then it is a good thing I happen to know that a great many men from Bury St Edmonds shall be in attendance. You shall assume your typical spot along the wall in fear of interacting with newcomers, and you won’t ever have to undress any of them with your mind!”
Hearing this jest, Lydia took the strings on the bottom of Marianne’s corset and pulled them tighter, making Marianne cry out in surprise.
Lydia kept a neutral face and simply said, “My apologies. Your corset just looked like it could use another tightening.”
Marianne was momentarily annoyed and rolled her eyes at her best friend. “I did not deserve that, and you know it.” Marianne stood up from her seat and walked over to her dress to put it on. “I am simply informing you of the truth, that you are far too shy around gentlemen, and I shall not be punished for it.”
Lydia arched an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips.
“Then shall I punish you for gossiping?” she teased her. But when Marianne turned around and gave her a knowing look, Lydia dropped her scolding and returned to her enthusiastic self. “Oh, fine, fine, go ahead and tell me who will be there, for I know you must be just bursting to.”
Having received permission, Marianne animatedly launched into her report of all the gentlemen who would be in attendance at the ball tonight. While her dear friend’s hands were flying all about, telling Lydia exactly what she thought aboutthis felloworthat fellow, Lydia began thinking of a certain gentleman who she hoped would be in attendance tonight.
His name was Percy Wentworth. He was not the extraordinarily handsome, strapping duke that Lydia had read about so many times in her fanciful books, but he was good looking to her. He had medium-length chestnut brown hair, magnificent green eyes, and a soft, kindly look to his face.
He had a prominent, but not unsightly, nose, and he stood about a foot taller than Lydia’s petite five foot two-inch frame. In Lydia’s mind, he was the man of her dreams, and that was, in part, because she had known of him all her life.
They had first met when they were both quite young. Lydia had come along with her parents to a ball as a special treat for maintaining such excellent achievements in her education, and Percy was there with his family as well.
The Seymours were introduced to the Wentworths along with some other families in the same rank, as none of them were as wealthy or held the titles that the Wentworths did. And yet, the moment that Lydia laid eyes on Percy, she knew that her life would never be the same again.
He looked so unlike anyone she had ever met before, and he was, after all, a duke. In addition to that, however, Lydia watched how he interacted with all the adults that he met; he seemed to treat every one of them as though they were on the same societal level that he was. No arrogance or privilege was dripping from his voice, and he seemed genuinely interested in the goings-on of these people who he had been introduced to.
Lydia, however, knew that she had not had the same effect on Percy. His eyes momentarily rested upon her, and then he continued looking at all of the other guests in attendance. Looking back, Lydia supposed that she should have admired that about him (for it meant that he did not favour just one person), but at that moment, she had longed for him to look at her for even a moment longer.
Lydia looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if a face like hers would have entranced the duke in the first place. In her mind, her face was too plump, her ears too prominent, and her chin was nonexistent. In truth, Lydia had a heart-shaped face with a soft jawline.
Her eyes were a mysterious blue-grey, her nose sloped upwards pleasantly, and her lips were much fuller than Marianne’s. When she laughed, which she often did, but only genuinely in front of her family and friends, two small dimples appeared in the apples of her cheeks.
When she had stopped questioning her appearance for long enough to allow some of Marianne’s chatter to filter in once more, she looked at her friend in the mirror just in time to hear her say, “But I suppose that isn’t who you’re really interested in, is it? I bet you’re wondering about our beloved Duke of Wexley.”
Lydia whipped her head around to face Marianne, who was smiling as though she had a secret. “Why ever should I care if Percy Wentworth is going to be in attendance?” she demanded.
Marianne patted her hair pompously and did not meet Lydia’s eye. “Because I couldn’t remember his name, but figured that if he had been on your mind, you would know exactly what it was!”
Lydia gasped but eventually joined in on Marianne’s fun. “Oh, I see how you devised that jest. Very clever, my friend, very clever. I suppose Imighthave been thinking about the Duke. Do ... do you happen to know if he …”
“Of course he will,” Marianne interrupted her, strutting in front of her to have Lydia do up the back of her dress. “He and his family are almost contractually obligated to attend every one of these things. I would be more surprised if he weren’t there tonight!”
