Chapter One
Miss Jenny Jones, seven-and-twenty years old and full of nervous energy, was getting ready to attend her first-ever society ball.
“I’m shaking,” she said, watching her reflection in the looking glass as the lady’s maid fiddled with her long, straight, raven-black hair.
“I’ll be with you every step of the way—every second, if you need,” Mrs. Alison Jones replied.
Jenny let out her breath in a long, wistful sigh.
“All right,” she said, but she still didn’t feel all right. No matter how much her sister-in-law reassured her, she didn’t think she’d ever feelall right.
Jenny was a slender young woman, tall and tanned and with a smile that could win the world over. Her eyes, a warm chocolate brown that twinkled often, told of a quick intelligence and a life of hard work, and they whispered of a distrust of those around her.
“But I am too old to have adebut,” Jenny said, the shake in her voice clear. “And certainly not the right type. Whoever heard of a maid attending a ball as anything other than a servant!”
“But you’re no longer a maid, are you, My Dear?” she said. She was ready, having been aided by the lady’s maid before she started on Jenny. “And don’t consider it adebut, as such. It’s a ball—your first—don’t fret about it.”
“How can I not fret?” Jenny asked, not taking her eyes from her reflection.
Jenny reached up to the twist of hair the maid had secured at the back of her head, and she slid out one of the pearl-tipped hairpins, sliding it in somewhere else. The maid patiently returned it to where she had originally put it, saying not a word. Even after a year of her new life, Jenny was unused to being coddled by a maid, and she wasn’t sure she would ever accept being dressed by someone else everyday—even if her new wardrobe required it.
“Let poor Fanny do your hair and stop fussing,” Alison reprimanded, her voice calm but firm. She had brought her lady’s maid with her when she had left her the house of her father, the Duke of Salsbury, and she helped both Alison and Jenny to dress now. “And yes, your situation is admittedly a little… unusual, but really Jenny Dear, that’s what makes it all the more special.”
Lady Alison had married Jenny’s twin brother, Luke, just a year before, and their baby girl, Elizabeth, was a tender four weeks old. At seven-and-twenty years, Alison herself wasoldby society’s definition, but she was married with a babe. She had done her duty, in their eyes. She did not care because she had fought for what she had wanted, and she had won.
Her golden-blonde hair tumbled around her face in tight curls, and her eyes were marbled with blue. She was the epitome of a society beauty, and Jenny looked longingly at her. Alison seemed to just belong, with seemingly no effort whatsoever.
But I shall never be one of them.
“You are so naturally beautiful, though,” Jenny said, “and—”
“Well, that’s very flattering,” Alison said, eyeing her sideways, “but we both know that is not true. You are sure to woo many a gentleman this evening.”
“You are too kind,” Jenny said softly, moving yet another pin. Fanny simply slipped it out of her hair and replaced it, again without complaint.
Jenny had been a maid to Alison’s family, and Luke had been the favored head groom. The groom before him, Jack Jones, had kindly taken them in after his own wife and child died, and he brought them up as his own. When he died, they had gone in search of their mother, hoping to find out more about their origins—and they found out more than they expected. It was when they discovered the heir of the Duke of Carrington, Thomas Denninson, was their brother that things changed—and Luke and Alison could finally marry, despite her father’s reticence.
Luke, now a businessman and working for his brother, had bought a London townhouse in which the three of them lived, and it had taken Alison and Jenny a long time to become friends. Jenny mistrusted Alison for a long time, and Alison hadn’t been able to accept Jenny’s change of status as easily.
Now, though, they were the best of friends. Both filled with love for Luke, they had reluctantly agreed to spend time together. He had been kind and gentle with them, guiding them toward each other and making them realize that neither was what the other thought. With time, their afternoon teas and their walks in the park became less like a chore and filled with more laughter and joy.
“Regardless,” Alison said, taking a step toward Jenny, her lady’s maid scuttling behind her. “Itispossible to find a husband at this late stage. Love does not have a deadline and although you may not have the choice you once would have, late marriage does happen. All the time, in fact.”
“Perhaps,” Jenny said, shrugging, although marriage was not her true concern. It was acceptance she craved above all else. “But even you have to admit that a late marriageanda beggar’s upbringing is something of a challenge. I am a servant at heart, as you well know.”
“I disagree entirely,” Alison said firmly. “You may have been—incorrectly—raised as a servant, but you are not a servant at heart. And besides, you have worked extremely hard in the previous months. You’ve had all the lessons on etiquette and behavior. Youknowhow to be a lady, now.”
Jenny snorted, trying not to laugh too loudly at Alison’s outlandish statement. She could learn all she liked, but no amount of lessons could ever make her a lady.
“As soon as I open my mouth, they’ll know,” Jenny said.
“We’ve been through that, too,” Alison said. “Thinkabout what you want to say before you say it, and then speak slowly, clearly enunciating each sound.”
“I know,” Jenny said, nodding her head sadly. “You’re right. Of course.”
This new way of life felt incredibly restrictive, with rules for every tiny thing she did—even what she thought. She may not spend her days scrubbing pots and pans or clearing fireplaces or even delivering food. But it seemed her life was even more confined than it ever had been.
“But—” she began, turning to look at Alison, who looked back with a bright and encouraging smile.
