Louise Allen - Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

‘Yes, we were slightly delayed as one of them thought he had swallowed a pin. I cannot imagine why.’ He was teasing her; obviously he had forgiven her—whether she was quite ready to be easy with him was another matter.

‘Extraordinary,’ Katherine agreed solemnly, biting her lip so as not to smile at the teasing twinkle in his eyes: it was quite impossible to resist Nick when he looked like that. ‘Perhaps he had a shock?’

‘Katherine,’ the Duke remarked to his elder son, ‘has been dutiful enough to come over especially to offer her assistance with the preparations for the ball: a courtesy that neither of my sons has seen fit to extend.’

Robert did not rise to the bait, merely dropping one lid in the ghost of a wink to his sister-in-law. Nick too had his own way of dealing with provocation. ‘Sir, unless things have changed greatly since I have been away, any attempt to interfere with your plans to present Seaton Mandeville en fête would be spurned.’ He passed the secretary the mustard. ‘Naturally, had I known you wished me to, I would have hastened over and ordered flower arrangements, or decided on the order of dances …’

Surely the Duke would respond in kind, make some light remark? Instead his eyebrows rose haughtily and he said, ‘As it happens, your assistance is not required.’

Katherine felt the set-down as acutely as if it had been directed at her, and she felt her cheeks colour. She glanced under her lashes at Nick, but he seemed unmoved, only the ironic twist of his mouth telling her that he too had felt the touch of ice. But of course, he must be used to it, expect it. This was the way relations between father and son had always been.

Biting her lip, she continued making conversation with Mr Greene and listening with every appearance of fascination to Lady Fanny recounting how amazing it was that she had thought to put in her ball gown. ‘Quite a miracle, so providential because of course I had no reason to suppose … and I only put it out by accident. Such a scatterbrained thing to do, was it not?’

It was difficult to answer that without discourtesy. Katherine said warmly, ‘But providential, as you said.’ Her mind was somewhere else entirely. Could she do anything, say anything, to help reconcile Nick and his father in the days she had left at Seaton Mandeville? And what influence could an embarrassment of a daughter-in-law, one who was soon to be set aside, have in any case? The Duke had been kind to her beyond her deserts, but he would not welcome presumption, of that she was convinced.

The days before the ball passed for Katherine with a sense of unreality. Nick appeared to have recovered from whatever alarm her riding without him had produced and taught her to trot. Katherine was very proud of herself, once she had stopped falling off, and her husband had not laughed at her once.

She had also forgiven him for the ball gown, sensibly realising that it was the most beautiful garment she would ever wear and to spurn it would be ungracious and, at this late stage, impractical.

Nothing was said about that moment when they had stood in his room, her anger transmuting into sensual awareness, and she began to wonder if, after all, he had felt it too. And anyway, she scolded herself, what if he had? Feelings of physical desire were far removed from love, and love was the only possible reason she could think of for a marquis to stay married to a nobody who had wed him out of her own extremity.

On the afternoon of the ball Nick’s new valet Cuthbertson and Jenny transported their burdens of carefully wrapped evening attire, accessories, brushes and colognes and installed themselves in Nick’s suite and the adjoining rooms at the house. Nick had announced that it would be much simpler if they dressed for the ball there and spent what would remain of the night as well.

‘That should make it easier for Lady Fanny to appear to be chaperoning me,’ Katherine remarked. ‘It will appear to those who are staying over that I am simply another guest.’

‘Yes, that too,’ Nick said vaguely, surprising Katherine, who had imagined that would be the main reason behind his decision.

She shut herself away with Jenny after luncheon, turning the key firmly in the lock in both the outside door and the door that led from her dressing room into Nick’s; she wanted no interruptions, and certainly she did not want Nick to witness any stage in the transformation she was hoping to achieve.

‘I shall have a rest for two hours, if I can sleep,’ she decided, feeling as though she would never be able to close her eyes. ‘Then I will have my bath and wash my hair—that should give it long enough to dry, do you think?’

Jenny calculated. ‘What time is dinner?’

‘Seven tonight. Lady Fanny thought I had better go down at about half past six with her. I do not want to give the impression I am one of the family; simply a guest.’

‘That should give us plenty of time,’ Jenny decided. ‘I’ll take the gown to press now and make sure we get a bath and hot water brought up in two hours—there is sure to be quite a demand! ‘

She helped Katherine out of her gown and stays and under the coverlet, drew the curtains closed and bore off the precious gown in a rustle of tissue.

Left alone, Katherine shut her eyes and tried to compose herself to rest, but sleep proved elusive. She was not used to dozing in the middle of the day and the morning had hardly proved so tiring that she needed a rest. Her mind was buzzing with excitement, apprehension and anticipation.

Would Nick think her beautiful in her new gown? Would he dance with her? As the elder son of the house, his duty would be to dance with the most senior ladies and with the most eligible young ones and not to spend his time with unknown and obscure girls under the wing of his cousin. Anything else, she resolutely told herself, would draw the sort of attention to her that she most hoped to avoid.

Would anyone ask her to dance? Surely someone would, she thought doubtfully, speculating about the sort of guests who would attend a ducal ball. She had seen the pile of acceptances that had flooded in despite the short notice; surely amongst them would be some young gentlemen who would not be so high in the instep as to ignore humble Miss Cunningham?

Her eyelids began to droop and she fell into a state that was half-doze, half-nightmare. Nick, looking distinguished, handsome, every inch the marquis, was dancing with a succession of well-dowered, haughty, exquisite young ladies, while their titled parents looked on with delight. Meanwhile, Miss Cunningham sat with the other wallflowers, grateful for an occasional country dance with a shy youth or possibly his Grace’s archivist.

She woke with a headache, feeling utterly cast down. Miserably she kicked back the covers and rubbed her forehead. Jenny would be back in a minute, it would never do to be found moping like this.

What was the matter with her? She tried to rally her spirits. You are perfectly respectable, presentable and socially adept, she scolded herself. You can run a household, cope with debts, confront a highwayman. Have a little courage! But deep down she felt out of her depth, uncertain …

‘Whatever’s the matter, Miss Katherine?’ Jenny was back in the room without her noticing. ‘Why such a Sad Susan! Anyone would think you were going to the dentist, not to a great ball!’

‘I am terrified,’ Katherine confessed, startled into frankness. ‘I will not know anyone except the family and a very few of their professional advisers—and I cannot reveal how well I know them. I have never been to any occasion so lavish or with such grand guests.’

‘And your lord must pretend he hardly knows you,’ Jenny said, shrewdly getting to the heart of the matter. ‘Do not worry so, he will not let you sink, nor will Lord Robert, nor his Grace, come to that.’