Beth through time, p.4
Beth Through Time, page 4
I was confused. “Then what is the problem?”
“The problem is that I did not want to join the marriage mart, but my father forced me to anyways. Then I figured, as long as I keep the suitors away, I would not need to get married. It would not be difficult to keep suitors at bay.” Willa laughed wryly. “Little did I know that my father went behind my back and arranged for my engagement to some Irish duke.” She shuddered and leaned back against the chair.
I paced the floorboards in front of the desk. Realization flashed through me. “And that is who you are supposed to meet tonight.”
“Yes. My first introduction to the Duke of Cashel.”
My eyes widened. She had said the title so flippantly despite the fact that it was not every day a duke was in attendance. “A duke?” My voice shot up.
“From Ireland,” she answered. “Most likely a middle-aged bore.” She sighed. “What am I supposed to do. I do not want to meet him, and he is set to arrive. I overheard the footmen discussing it earlier.”
“Are you certain you do not want to meet him? I mean, he is a duke.”
“Yes, I am certain,” Willa ground out. “Will you help me come up with a plan or not?”
I hesitated. Perhaps Anne had been right and I should return to the ballroom. Did I not want to enjoy myself dancing with eligible men? Instead, I was stowed away in a study together with a woman who wanted to get out of meeting a duke. There was no doubt that most women out here tonight would love to switch places with Willa.
A thought formed in my mind just as Willa flashed her teeth at me. “What if you take my place?” she shot out, eerily similar to my own idea. But the plan was too simple, it would never work.
“Would he not be able to tell I am not you?”
Willa chewed her fingernail. “He only knows my name. What if we stick together? If someone points me out he would not be able to tell whether it was you or me. Then when he introduces himself, you can take the lead and say your name is Willa Balfour.”
“Balfour,” I muttered. “But...what if he asks me questions?”
Willa pursed her lips, flicking away a bit of chewed nail. “We are all ladies. I suppose you can entertain him with talk of your own hobbies. If he asks about my father, you can tell the duke that the Marquis of Bambreich is in fine health.”
“You are the daughter of a marquis?” I gulped, halting my pacing.
Willa snorted. “For tonight, you are.”
“I-I do not know if I should,” I said, steadying myself against the desk.
“You cannot turn back now. This will work, I promise,” Willa pleaded.
I trained my eyes on her. “But how am I supposed to get rid of him?”
“You can try to dissuade him from courting you or behave badly.”
I blanched at that suggestion. “Behave badly? I do not know about that.”
Willa shrugged. “Perhaps he will move on if we can deceive him until the end of the London season. I doubt father would have him follow me back to our country estate.” She threw up her hands. “I confess, I have not fully thought it through. However, I have faith I can come up with a better solution if I can only avoid meeting him.”
There was risk involved, and if I helped Willa, perhaps she could return the favor. “Fine, if I agree to do this, you will have to help as well.”
“Anything,” she said.
I paused, considering my options. If Willa’s father was a marquis, then she might know ways to get invitations to some of the most exclusive events in London.
“Perhaps you can invite my friend and I along to dances attended by the ton?” I would never dream of socializing with a duke or marquis, but perhaps this was a chance to enjoy myself and have conversations with someone handsome and intelligent.
Willa’s mouth dropped open. “Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you want to make a better marriage match?”
“This is my first season, and I want to enjoy myself. Though, I suppose my friend is looking for a suitable match,” I answered.
“I suppose,” she said, lifting her brow. “If that is what you want, though I cannot see the appeal. You have got yourself a deal.”
I nodded. “Now what?”
Willa stood and clasped my arm. “We shall return to the ballroom.”
“I will have to explain our scheme to my friend so she can help run interference,” I warned Willa.
Willa looked me in my eyes. “Can she be trusted to keep a secret?”
“Yes,” I answered. Though I knew Anne would certainly chide me in private for joining in on such a harebrained idea.
Willa seemed ready for battle, judging by the determined glint in her eyes. “Are you ready?” she asked. I nodded. “Then let us go.”
5
An Irish Duke
Willa and I returned to the ballroom. I signaled Anne who was finishing up a country dance with the broad-shouldered man in top boots. At least my earlier question was answered; the man was in fact not a good dancer. Anne squinted painfully as she dodged his bumbling steps. Her relief was palpable once the song ended and she could move away.
“You may need to find a way to avoid him if your feet are precious to you,” Anne warned me as she joined Willa and me.
I flashed a grin. “I saw. You were lucky to come away unscathed.” Willa tapped her finger against my shoulder, no doubt to hurry things along. She had a pinched look on her face.
I cleared my throat. “Anne...” I motioned at the red-haired woman. “This is Willa Balfour.”
“Yes. We have met.” An amused expression crossed Anne’s face. “It seems you are feeling better.” She fanned herself.
I hesitated; I was unsure of where to start. But Willa stepped forward, her face serious. She inched closer to Anne and lowered her voice. “I am in a bit of a predicament, and Beth has agreed to help me. She will pretend to be me this evening.” Anne was on the verge of saying something but Willa continued. “I wish I did not need to ask but would you be willing to help keep up the ruse?” Willa took a hold of Anne’s hands. “I would be ever so grateful.”
It took everything I had in me to not burst out laughing. I had never seen Anne this lost for words, her mouth flopping open like a fish. Anne shot me a withering glance, which told me I was going to get an earful. I was envious of Willa’s bravado, I could use some of her attitude, especially when dealing with my brother.
“Will you?” Willa reiterated, lightly touching Anne’s arm.
Anne turned her gaze back to the redhead and inclined her head, scowling slightly. “This does not mean that I agree.”
“Thank you,” I breathed.
“You are telling me everything when we are back in our rooms,” Anne hissed pointedly. “I asked you to not get me in trouble. What would John say?”
I shrugged. “My brother is not here at the moment, and there is no reason for him to find out.” The question did hit a nerve. I was not certain this was the best idea either, but I might as well continue on, in for a penny, in for a pound, I supposed. At the very least it would make for an exciting event unless the duke was a terrible bore like Willa assumed.
I was about to suggest we should find ourselves a refreshment from one of the round tables with beverages and foods scattered throughout the perimeter of the ballroom when the lively chatting quieted and turned into whispers. Every man and woman in the room glanced towards the main entrance. A tall, dark-haired man walked in accompanied by a footman. Lady Westham pushed her way through the crowd to welcome the newcomer, smiling widely.
A mother and her two daughters behind us were whispering intently. “Can you believe it? A duke, here? Perhaps we shall be fortuitous this eve.” The mother fussed with the oldest, quickly pinching the girl’s pale cheeks to liven them up. “Esther, straighten your posture and smooth out your skirts. Perhaps you can draw his attention—“
The rest of the woman’s words were drowned out when I moved my attention to the man now bowing to Lady Westham. So, this was the duke? He was certainly not middle-aged. I took in the cut of his fine clothing; he was trim but strongly built, his muscular thighs displayed in tight fitting beige pantaloons. From the fine finishes on his jacket and elaborately knotted cravat, I surmised that he cared about his appearance. He surely put in a great deal of effort to be the beau of the ball. Not that it mattered, merely the knowledge that he was a duke drew all the attention to him. He could have resembled a slimy toad and society mothers would still have fawned over him. Wealth and titles were most important here.
But now that the man had a title, wealth, and an extraordinarily pleasing countenance...
“Are you certain you want to go through with this?” I asked Willa. Perhaps she’d changed her mind when she noticed that the duke was a handsome young man.
Willa rolled her eyes. “Yes, I am certain. A handsome face is not enough to make me reconsider.”
I shook my head and let out a laugh. “I cannot even pretend to understand you.” Willa raised her shoulders, uninterested in the man she was supposed to meet.
Fine, if Willa wanted me to pretend to be her then I would. Especially when the evening just got interesting. I stared openly at the duke as he spoke with Lady Westham, his movements measured and refined. He must have asked Lady Westham a question because she glanced to the side, her eyes scanning the room before stopping at the three of us. Then, she pointed her finger towards us. My heart thumped. The duke turned, his dark eyes staring straight at me with the most delicious crooked smile on his face.
I swallowed.
I was being silly; I had met plenty of handsome men. But a part of me whispered, Did they have those dark piercing eyes? Or that strong jawline? Flustered, I averted my eyes. Perhaps he was still a bore. That could happen, right?
Willa pinched me. “Ready yourself.” Her eyes raked over me, taking in my distracted expression. “Remember… Willa Balfour, the daughter of the Marquis of Bambreich.”
I focused on Willa. “The marquis. Yes.”
Willa’s lips pursed and for a moment she seemed uncertain. Then her eyes darted to the approaching duke and her hesitation vanished.
“Alright. Pretend to have an interesting conversation.” Her cat-like eyes locked with Anne. “You, too. Let out a giggle or something. Pretend to be having an amusing conversation.”
“I need to act now too? Next, I will receive a position on Drury Lane.” Anne laughed uncomfortably while Willa improvised a story.
“And so, father took us on an outing to the circus. Have you been? Oh la, it was marvelous. Such a unique experience.” I was impressed by Willa’s ability to make small talk.
I sensed the duke before he arrived. My skin tingled as he neared. His eyes burned a hole against my back, but I ignored the urge to glance over my shoulder and meet his gaze. I threw out a soft giggle at Willa’s improvised conversation
“Pardon me.” The duke spoke in a warm tone with a seductive Irish lilt. The accent, while attractive, bewildered me. As far as I knew, hardly any of the Irish nobility had any true ties to their country. Perhaps the duke had been raised by an Irish governess. I liked the cadence of it, smooth as syrup with his deep tones.
“May I introduce myself. I am Edmund Humphries, the Duke of Cashel.” With his right hand to his heart, he bowed to us.
The three of us curtsied, lowering our gazes. “Well met, Your Grace,” I said, once he straightened.
“Our host of the evening told me I could find Ms. Balfour among the three of you.” The duke waited for a response. His frame towered over me. I swallowed thickly as I took in his height. I was not short myself so he had to be well over six feet tall. I pulled out my fan, opening the flower design to obscure my face coyly.
“I am Ms. Balfour.” I nodded my head at Anne and Willa. “And these are my friends Ms. Blakeley and Ms. Easton.” I stuttered slightly at my own name. The lie tangling up my tongue.
“How do you find London?” Willa cut in, giving me time to gather my composure. I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. By the time the duke finished giving his opinion of London, I finalized my act. I was going to play the better version of myself, the funnier, more adventurous, more confident woman I had always wanted to be. If this was going to be a performance I might as well enjoy it.
From my left, I noticed the sandy-haired man wearing the blue brocade striding towards us, on his way to claim the dance on my dance card, no doubt.
I bumped my arm into Anne as casually as I could before turning to the duke.
“Would you care to dance, Your Grace?” I said, flashing a smile. I knew that he should have asked first, but I did not have time to wait. The sandy-haired man knew my name was Easton. Anne and Willa would have to run interference.
The duke quirked his lips. “It would be my pleasure.” He extended his arm. I returned the fan to my pocket, grasped his hand, and followed him onto the dance floor. I was acutely aware of the many eyes that followed our interaction. Peeking back to my friends, I saw them waving away the man I had promised a dance. A twinge of guilt bubbled up in my gut. It was not fair to deny him his turn for a dance just to pretend to be someone I was not for Willa.
Willa’s reasonings did not even make sense. I would be ecstatic if an Irish duke attended a ball so he could be introduced to me. What was Willa thinking?
The duke led me to the center of the ballroom. Other couples already gathered on the floor, moving to the sweeping melody. He grasped my right hand while the other moved to rest on my waist, pulling me in closer for the waltz.
“Oh,” I exclaimed at the small tug. He was standing so close to me, I had to tip my head to look up at his face. The weight of his hand on my hip burned through the fabric, searing itself into my skin.
Glancing up at him, I followed his lead. I always prided myself in being a good dancer, but I’d never danced with a duke before. I was nervous and especially conscious of my clammy hands.
Aware of his gaze, I decided to break the silence. “Do you like to dance, Your Grace?” The duke smiled, revealing straight white teeth. He was probably chuckling at my question. Why did I even ask something so silly? Of course, he did, we were dancing this very moment. The duke could probably sniff out my inexperience with men.
“I do,” he stated. “You can tell a lot by the way one dances.” His grip on me tightened as he spun me around. What was he insinuating? His brown eyes bored into mine. “You can call me Edmund. Since I have an understanding with you and your father surely, we are on a first name basis?”
“I suppose,” I hedged, chewing my lip. My real name almost slipped out before I remembered. “You can call me Willa”
“Well, Willa.” The duke repeated the name slowly, savoring it. His grin was wolfish to match his dark hair. A part of me wished it had been my own name on his lips. “Do you like to dance?”
“I do, though I do not get the opportunity often enough.”
The duke—Edmund, I corrected in my head—raised his brow. “And why is that? I would wager that the daughter of a marquis has plenty of opportunities to dance and a long list of suitors to ask her.”
I did not want to lie too much. It was easier to keep the story as close to my own as possible. John came to mind. He took on the role of overprotective father when our parents passed away.
“My father is a bit protective of me.”
Edmund’s brow quirked. “The same father who wrote to a stranger to arrange a marriage match?”
I shrugged, flashing him a stern glower which I usually reserved for my brother. “A marriage contract is different than unvetted suitors at a ball.”
Edmund let out a deep laugh. “Point taken.” Then he paused. His eyes trained on my face when he asked, “Is an arranged marriage what you want?”
I nearly missed a step. “What?”
The duke repeated his question, slower this time. “Is an arranged marriage what you want?”
“I-I.” My voice faltered. I thought of Willa, her pleas to get out of this situation, and I considered how I would feel if I was told I was engaged to a man I had never met.
“No.”
Edmund dark eyes assessed me. I lowered my head; I was taken in by this handsome duke, but now the ruse was most likely coming to an end. I felt a strange sensation of loss, my chest squeezing tight. I had a vague ethereal notion of something important moving out of my grasp. My stomach knotted itself up in a ball.
But it was not me the duke was dancing with. If he knew who I was he never would have given me a second glance. I had nothing to lose and the real Willa wanted nothing to do with him.
Edmund nodded his head. “I can imagine it is difficult to think of oneself married to a complete stranger.”
“It is,” I agreed
Edmund smiled at me. “Then I propose this; I shall court you as if I was a mere suitor, and if at the end of the season you wish to break off our agreement, I shall step aside.”
“Just like that?” I frowned at him. That must be the strangest plan I had ever heard. “Why did you agree to a marriage in the first place?”
“Perhaps I was in want of a wife,” he quipped. The music changed, and we were forced to break apart. “However, I would prefer my intended to be excited about her upcoming nuptials.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. I turned my head to hide the redness on my face and to catch a glimpse of Anne and Willa. I hated that the idea of marriage to this man was making me blush.
My friends were standing near a refreshment table, Anne sipping from a drink while Willa chomped away at a mandarin. Willa waved and grinned widely when she caught my eye.
“Will you come with me?” the duke whispered in my ear.
I returned my gaze to him. “Where?”
“We can take a stroll in the garden, somewhere we can speak without so many eyes and ears watching our every move.”
My brother’s voice rang through my head. Never meet a man unchaperoned. But John was not here, and it was not as if the duke was a random dandy from the countryside. My thoughts flashed to Danby, but that man was locked up, and I was no longer the naïve, moon-eyed girl I had been back then.
