Maybe I should swallow my pride and go down for dinner in an unusual dress, too.
The thought made her nervous, but itwouldserve a purpose. She could imagine how proud Bridget and Katie would be if she wrote to them about the monstrosities she had created and the horrible piece she wore for her first formal dinner.
What will Rose think?
“It does not matter,” she said to the room at large. “I am a duchess now; I can wear what I want.”
Still, when she told Rose her plan, her maid did not do a very good job of hiding her thoughts—she looked positively horrified.
But Alicia was determined. She would ensure that by the end of the week, the Duke, too, was horrified by her.
Perhaps I will be on my way home sooner than I planned.
“Are you quite sure about this, Your Grace?” Rose asked, her eyes wide and almost frightened as Alicia glanced at her in the mirror.
Perhaps it is too much.
Alicia forced herself to nod at her maid, determined to carry on her plan no matter how foolish she looked.
She had chosen to wear an enormous feather in her hair. Not only did it not go well with her gown, but it was also far too long to be considered appropriate for a quiet dinner at home.
The dress she had chosen was sapphire blue, and it brought out her eyes beautifully. But the effect was ruined by the deep scarlet sash she had added, making her look like a soldier.
“I think it looks excellent,” she said.
She would have burst out laughing at Rose’s expression if she herself was not so uncertain of what she was doing.
“Perhaps we could remove the feather, Your Grace. The sash looks… very fine.”
Alicia tugged at the folds in her skirt to keep from smiling. If anything proved Rose’s loyalty to her, this was it.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Rose. The feather will stay. Do you know what is being served for dinner?”
“Lamb, Your Grace, and roast potatoes.”
Alicia felt her stomach rumble at that. Steeling herself for the appalled looks she would undoubtedly receive from the servants, she left her room, feeling Rose’s disapproval all the way to the door.
Making her way down the stairs, her worst fears were realized when the housekeeper walked out of a side door, her keys in hand, flicking through them to find the right one. She looked up, already bowing her head in Alicia’s presence, before her mouth fell open in amazement.
Keep your head high. Soon, you will leave this place and will never have to see the woman again.
Alicia managed a smile and a brief nod, feeling the ludicrous feather sticking out of her hair bobbing wildly in place.
She kept moving, sticking her nose in the air as the footmen did their best to keep their eyes on the floor as she approached them.
She had not eaten in the dining room yet, and despite her hunger, she was extremely nervous by the time the doors opened. Would Seth demand that she go back to her room and change? Some men would.
The doors opened into one of the most imposing rooms she had ever seen.
It had dark red walls decorated with intricate wallpaper covered in roses and thorns. Gold-framed paintings looked down at her from every corner, the stern countenances of several men and a few women from the Radcliffe line staring at her reprovingly as she made her way into the room.
The floor was polished to a high shine around the edges. Footmen stood to attention along the walls, and the room was deathly quiet. Several servants turned to stare at her as she made her entrance.
Everything in the room was the same shade of red, and Alicia looked around, feeling tiny in the space and unworthy of her title.
The Duke was already seated at the head of the table, and to her fury, he barely looked at her before she was shown to her seat.
He did not seem alarmed by her appearance in the slightest. If anything, hestilllooked amused.