Page 18 of The Viscount's Daring Cinderella
Theodore ran his hand through his hair. “Do not take liberties, Moreland; otherwise, I will be forced to find another partner in crime.”
Moreland placed his free hand over his heart and feigned injury. “You have hurt me, Bowden. Things would not be the same without you.”
Without any further prompting from Moreland, Theodore said, “She is intelligent, witty and unafraid to speak her mind.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Moreland was staring at him intently.
“At the same time, she is mysterious, and I can sense her sadness. There is a part of me that wishes to … take it away from her,” Theodore said. Her sadness was palpable, and it gutted him that she endured it.
“Bowden, my good man, it is clear to me that you should avoid this particular lady for obvious reasons. She does not fit your mold, and you may find yourself in an uncomfortable position. Your rules are there for a reason, and they protect you,” Moreland carefully explained.
Theodore sighed and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
Moreland continued, “I say this as your friend. She is innocent and inexperienced, and you should leave well enough alone.”
Theodore gave a heavy sigh. “Perhaps you are right.”
Even though he largely agreed with Moreland, Theodore wondered when he would see Lady Beryl again. She would attend most social gatherings as a chaperone. He was sure to see her. How will she react when they come face to face?
As Berylprepared for the Wilford’s ball, she could not help but think of the masquerade ball. Flora had lost her nerve when she ran into Lord Henry Newell, and although she was well disguised, she was petrified she would be recognized. Flora’s anxiety was infectious, and as soon as the wizard went for refreshments, they left the ball. Beryl had enjoyed the dance with the wizard and the shiver of excitement she felt when she walked through the guests, knowing that no one recognized her. She was not the poor, ill-treated orphan.
There was a knock on her door, and before she could speak, it was opened. Grace stood in the door and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“I am preparing for the Wilford’s ball,” Beryl replied.
Grace sneered. “You aremychaperone, Beryl. You need not take so much care with your appearance.Youdo not need to look perfect;Ido. You will hardly be noticed in your frumpy, out-of-date gown.”
“I see.” Beryl fought to maintain her composure because there was no need for such a biting remark.
Grace crossed her arms and gave Beryl a hard squint. “Your time will be better spent assisting me with dressing.”
“Is Mildred not assisting you?”
Grace snorted and gave an exaggerated eye roll. “She is, but I want you there. Is that an inconvenience for you? I should hopenot, considering all that we have done for you. I hardly think you want Mother to conclude you are ungrateful.”
Beryl merely said, “Certainly not, Grace. I will be with you shortly.”
“I should hope so.” Grace gave her a haughty look before she spun around and left the doorway as quickly as she entered.
Beryl’s eyes misted.Oh, Papa, if ever you could see the indignities I have suffered. Her heart was aching. She had such a feeling of heaviness and tightness in her chest and limbs. She wished for the umpteenth time that her father was alive, and she was in her childhood home. The tears were threatening to spill over. She drew deep breaths and blinked rapidly. She would not give Grace the satisfaction of appearing with puffy eyes and splotchy skin.
Beryl walked to the dressing table, where she had a pendant containing her father’s portrait. She opened it, and a loving face looked back at her. The tears once again threatened, and she closed the pendant and kissed it. Beryl balled her fist around it and held it to her heart as she rocked back and forth on her heels. She sighed heavily, replaced the pendant, and stood staring at her hands. Beryl lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and walked from the room down the hall to Grace’s room.
Mildred had already laid out Grace’s gown, and it was one of Madame Lena’s creations.
Beryl was still in her loose-fitting day dress. They were similarly attired this morning because they were not expecting any callers today. Grace was now wearing a sacque, and Beryl was sure she had already had her bath. Mildred was pinning her hair, which was a mass of black curls.
“What would you like me to do, Grace?”
“See that all my undergarments have been laid out, and my jewelry is polished. I do not believe I found the shoes I would wear with my dress,” Grace snapped.
Beryl nodded. “I will see to it.”
She walked over to the bed. A corset, a knee-length chemise, and layers of flounced petticoats had been laid out. Beryl assembled and polished Grace’s jewelry and selected her shoes. By this time, Mildred had completed pinning Grace’s hair. Grace stood up, and Mildred started removing her sacque. Beryl moved forward to accept it and placed it on the bed. She removed the rest of her undergarments, and Beryl handed the fresh pieces to Grace as she called for them.
Beryl could not fathom why she was there. There was nothing here that Mildred could not do, but Beryl knew better than to express her opinion. She attended to her duties with efficiency and watched as Grace admired her reflection in the mirror.
“Madame Lena had certainly outdone herself. This gown is so beautiful; I will be the belle of the ball,” Grace boasted.
