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Chapter Three
The Assembly room was crowded, to the pleasant surprise of Lydia and her sisters. When they entered the room, all eyes were on them. Women whispered to their companions behind their fans. Young men smiled in their direction. Starting the rumor provided exactly the response that Lydia had hoped. She found herself blushing when young men came to claim their dances with her, intrigued that she had caught the attention of the duke. She couldn’t help but to smile, seeing her sisters receiving the same attention.
When she had but one set remaining empty on her dance card, she realized that she had to at least pretend to save it for her fiancé, saying, “Of course, I must leave a set for the duke, if he makes it tonight. He’s been so busy as of late.”
For the first time that Season, if not in several Seasons, she was proud to have had her dance card filled up, or almost. Her first dance partner was a young, handsome marquess. He talked excitedly during the whole dance, complimenting her dancing, her hair, even her smile.
“It’s incredible, I’ve never noticed you until tonight,” he said, smiling down on her. “How did such a lovely young woman escape my eye for this long? Where have you been hiding?”
“Right under your nose,” she quipped.
“Such a shame that you have accepted the Duke of Marigold’s proposal,” he continued. “I’m sure I could make you much happier than he would.”
“Is that so?” she asked, trying her best to be coy.
“Indeed, though I won’t speak ill of your fiancé,” he said. “Tell me, how have you found London this Season?”
They made small talk throughout the dance. When the set ended, he bowed to her, kissing the back of her hand. She smiled and curtsied deeply, pleased with the attention she was getting now that potential suitors thought her unavailable. Finding her mother watching, she took her leave of her partner and went over to her. Giddy with excitement, she stood next to her mother looking out over the rest of the dancers.
“Can you believe this?” Lydia asked, whispering gleefully.
She searched for her sisters across the room. “Look there, Trinity with the Viscount of Weymouth, Lucretia with the Baron of Hastings, Marcia with the Baron of Segrave. But where’s Johanna?”
“Just there,” her mother pointed out.
Johanna was talking to a handsome young man, but mostly staring at the floor. Much shorter than the gentleman, he kept trying to peer down into her face, causing her to blush. Though Lydia still considered Johanna a little girl, she was finding plenty of attention with the younger men in the crowd.
“Who is that gentleman?” Lydia asked. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“I do believe that’s a certain Mr. Weller,” Mother responded. “He recently bought the Northham manor and makes a handsome salary.”
The caller started announcing the arrival of a new guest, but Lydia was too focused on watching Johanna to care, asking, “Did he just arrive in London at the end of the Season?”
“-Duke of Marigold!”
Hearing the name of her supposed suitor, she snapped her head around to look for the newcomers.
“Did I hear that correctly?” she asked her mother.
“I dare say you did,” her mother agreed, waving with her fan. “There he is now.”
The duke had arrived with another man and woman. The other man favored the duke in his dark looks but was smaller in build. The lady was pretty but painted, dressed in the latest fashion, and sporting a haughty look.
Lydia grabbed her mother’s arm for strength, whispering, “He’s not supposed to be here.”
“What did I tell you?” she whispered back. With a sideways glance, she continued, “It appears you have just a few moments to devise another scheme before you and your sisters both fall into utter ruin.”
She started trembling, staring at the duke striding across the Assembly. Guests bowed and greeted him, slowing his approach. He stood taller than most of the crowd, making it very easy for her to see that he was heading directly toward them. Turning on her heel, she pulled her mother with her to head further into the crowd. Weaving between crowds of people, she hoped that her much shorter stature would help decoy her position.
“Well, you cannot just avoid him,” her mother scolded. “Everyone knows that he’s your betrothed. You have to speak with him at some point. Right now, frankly, it appears as though you’re fleeing from him.”
“Help me think of what to say,” Lydia gasped. She desperately wanted to break into a run. She had not considered the possibility that the duke might show up at the Assembly. The only reason she could think of was that he had heard of the rumor.
“I think the best course is for you to win his affection,” her mother suggested. They stopped behind a dense throng of matrons with their daughters, who were gossiping loudly. Lydia glanced over her shoulder to ensure that the duke had not yet found them.
“How do I do that?” Lydia asked, panicking. She clutched her hands together to try to hide her trembling. “If I had known how to win any man’s affection, I would not still be unmarried.”
“I think you must face him,” she suggested, rubbing Lydia’s arm reassuringly. “Flirt with him, try to get him to ask for a dance.”
