Page 55 of His Scottish Duchess

“That is a fantastic point, dear.” Thalia nodded serenely, in the gentle way that soothed Catherine’s nerves. “There is no better place to rub elbows with people with similar values than your own event. But perhaps you should have started witha small… soiree.”

“Oh,” Catherine murmured, looking down at her teacup.

“No matter! We are here to help you in every way possible! We have each hosted our fair share of balls. And we all have our strengths, so you have limitless resources at your disposal. Whatever you need, we are here to provide,” Eleanor assured her with a sweet smile.

Catherine found her words very encouraging. It was nice to know that they were going to support her, despite her less-than-sane idea of doing this with no prior experience.

“Thank you. I—you really have no idea how much of a relief it is to have you all here. Your presence means so much to me,” she sniffed, feeling touched.

Thalia reached over and patted her arm comfortingly. “Do not worry, dear. We are more than happy to help. We duchesses must stick together.”

Catherine smiled and nodded, excited for what was to come.

The Duchesses immediately got down to work. They gave Catherine advice and tips she could not find in the catalogs and books she had read, such as the best florist to employ in order to receive the freshest flowers, the most reliable decorator, and the most ideal selection of appetizers to serve the guests to have them talking about the ball for weeks to come.

Catherine felt as though she was being given lessons on arithmetic and history again, with how many notes she was taking. The other Duchesses thought she looked precious withher furious scribbling, but she pointed out it was merely to ensure she did not forget a single detail.

Selina, with her sharp wit and a keen eye for detail, eventually brought up the matter of the guest list, offering insightful advice, noticing that Catherine’s list looked rather short.

“You absolutely must invite the Abernathys,” she declared, tapping a delicate finger against the list Catherine had compiled. “They always make lively conversation. But steer clear of the Tremaines. Trust me, my dear, the scandal surrounding Lord Tremaine and that opera singer is still far too fresh for polite company.”

As Catherine drew a table with two columns titled ‘invited’ and ‘not invited,’ Thalia, whose gentle demeanor belied a surprising knowledge of gossip, chimed in.

“And avoid Lady Beatrice Ashworth if you value your silverware. There have been… whispers of her rather sticky fingers at recent gatherings. Things have often gone missing around places she had been seen.”

“And if you are inviting Lord Cullen and his family, ensure that they are kept far away from Lady Patricia and her sons. There is still the unresolved matter of Lord Cullen’s sister’s honor, for which a duel was issued but Lord Cullen never showed up. Lady Patricia’s son, Luke, has made it his solemn duty to remind Lord Cullen of his cowardice for the rest of his life,” Eleanor sighed, as though she found the drama more tiresome than anything else.

It was truly riveting, how much trouble the members of the ton got themselves into—and equally concerning, given the severe nature of the situations they seemed to constantly stir up.

Nora, with her practical approach, focused on the more logistical aspects. “We can help you with the seating arrangements, Catherine. And don’t fret about the music. Bancroft’s orchestra is quite exceptional, and Samuel would be delighted to lend them for an evening.”

As they worked together, a comfortable camaraderie began to develop between the ladies. They shared anecdotes about their own experiences hosting balls, offered helpful tips, and laughed as they recounted minor disasters.

Soon, the conversation turned to their husbands, and Catherine found herself drawn into their easygoing banter.

“Honestly,” Selina said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, “Aaron can be utterly impossible when we have guests. He insists on discussing agricultural advancements at the dinner table. As if anyone truly cares about the latest turnip yields!”

Thalia giggled. “Benedict is the opposite. He spends the entire evening making jokes and talking up a storm with the guests. We only ever have a moment of silence when food is served.”

“And Samuel,” Nora added with a fond smile, “insists on personally vetting every single dish. The poor chef nearly had a nervous breakdown before our last ball.”

Catherine found herself laughing along with them, feeling a sense of belonging she hadn’t anticipated.

Eleanor, seeing her ease, beamed. “You see, Catherine? It’s not so daunting when you have friends to help you. And we are your friends now.”

As the afternoon wore on, the preparations for the ball began to take shape, and the initial dread was replaced by a growing sense of excitement. With her friends by her side, Catherine felt confident that her first ball as the Duchess of Rosehall would be a resounding success.

And more importantly, she was beginning to realize the true value of female companionship and the strength that could be found in shared laughter and understanding.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Inform Oswald that I would like to have a word with him.”

The maid bowed and quickly slipped out of Sampson’s study as he rose to his feet in an attempt to stretch his stiff body, feeling a little restless.

It wasn’t long before he found himself pacing the length of his study, the rhythmic click of his boots against the polished hardwood floor a counterpoint to the discordant thoughts swirling in his mind.

He had summoned Oswald under the guise of needing assistance with the intricate details of recent land acquisition, a matter that usually held his keen interest. Still, today, his focus was elsewhere, tethered to the whirlwind of activity that had consumed Catherine and, by extension, the entire household.

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