Page 6 of Denying a Rakish Duke
Vanessa supposed that it would be very simple to be painfully jealous of her younger sister. Perhaps for her beauty, the effortless grace with which she walked, or the way that she tended to pull all of the focus in the room on her whether she wished it or not. Vanessa knew that it would be easy to become covetous of the gifts and special attentions, but in reality, she was happy for her sister. Vanessa wanted Amanda to be happy, and that meant that they would have to find the perfect match for her. Somebody kind and patient with a good sense of humor. Perhaps somebody who would like to sit in the parlor in the evenings while Amanda sang or played the pianoforte. Amanda had such a lovely singing voice. She needed a gentleman who was appreciative of all of her talents and would not treat her like a doll to put up on a shelf somewhere.
Only a small part of Vanessa could recognize that her standards might be placed a little too highly when it came to her youngest sister. She could not help how protective she felt over her. She felt like after everything that her elder sisters had already endured, she wanted to spare Amanda from any of those struggles. Each of her oldest sisters was happily married to their Dukes now, but neither was a conquest without strife. They had both endured their own sorts of trials—ones that had turned Vanessa off the courtship routines more than she was willing to admit.
“I think that this ballroom might be the most beautiful one yet; what do you think, Vanessa?” Amanda spoke as the pair admired the decorations. She had a magical quality about her that made her seem blissfully happy no matter where she was or who she was speaking to. It was an addictive feeling to be admired so.
“I really admire the—” Vanessa was interrupted by Petunia joining them.
“Vanessa, my love, you need to stop your meddling. You must allow your sister space to make up her own mind about things. You have to give her the space to learn about the people around her on her own so that she can make the best choice,” Petunia argued. She stepped between the sisters, forcing her daughters apart.
Vanessa knew that there would be no point in explaining that they were not even discussing suitors at that moment.
“If I did not know better, Mama, I would think that you were trying to keep Amanda and I apart by force,” Vanessa responded without expecting an answer to which she was not disappointed. Petunia hummed in the back of her throat with a noncommittal sound. The three women turned their focus out over the crowd of people around them. Vanessa decided that if her mother was going to wrongfully accuse her of being bitter, then perhaps that was exactly how she ought to act in response.
“It is bad enough that we are standing in the home of such a louse of a man, but it is even more insulting that you wish to have Amanda throw herself at the Duke like countless women before her! Have you no care for her modesty?”
“Stop that,” Petunia said firmly. “Your sister needs to make a good match, and there is nothing better than a Duke for that. Perhaps you ought to consider your own position before you meddle with your sister’s.” With that, Petunia placed her arm in Amanda’s and guided her youngest daughter away from Vanessa. She did not even utter a word of dismissal … she was simply leaving and taking her youngest daughter with her. Amanda cast an apologetic look over her shoulder before the two of them disappeared in the massive throng of people presumably heading toward the lemonade.
“I hardly think that I was overstepping my bounds,” Vanessa said bitterly to herself. She folded one arm across her chest as she watched the people moving in front of her. On the dance floor, couples twisted and turned in perfect, pretty formations. She never much cared for dancing anyway. At least that was what she was going to tell herself over and over until she believed it as fact.
“Pardon me, but was that Amanda Farbridge and her mother you were just speaking with?” A voice came from beside her, the speaker hardly even looking at her. Vanessa swallowed her wine in a single painful gulp. She was moderately offended that this man did not see the family resemblance … no matter how slight it might be. Even more than that, she was offended that this gentleman did not seem to notice that she, too, was a Farbridge daughter.
“Perhaps.”
“Then perhaps you might be inclined to introduce me?” Vanessa studied the profile of his face. He had sharp, angular features and the beginnings of a very wiry-looking stubble coming in on one half of the underside of his chin. He looked familiar in a passing sort of way, but she could not place a name to his face.
“I am afraid that I cannot do that, I do not believe we are acquainted.” Nor that she wished to, but she did not say as much. Vanessa took inventory of his waistcoat and the trim fit of his clothes. She thought that he might be somewhat familiar but certainly only in passing. Nothing notable enough for her to recall his name or family.
“Ah, drat,” the man said, suddenly looking rather forlorn. “It appears that I have taken entirely too much time in making my move.” What could he be speaking about? Vanessa spun to see Amanda turning to greet none other than the man that she feared the most— the dashing Duke of Willow himself.
“I should really work on my timing, should I not?” The stubbly gentleman turned back to Vanessa with a cordial grin. “Well, then perhaps you should like to share a dance with me?” Her brows lifted.
“Ah, how did you know that it was my greatest ambition to be a consolation prize to my younger sister?” Her voice was dry and unamused. The gentleman looked shocked and attempted to backpedal, but before he could offer any words of apology, Vanessa had moved away and toward her sister. She watched with cold internal horror as Amanda dipped into a perfectly elegant curtsy, and their mother gushed what looked like words of approval. Vanessa arrived at their side just in time for the Duke to extend his hand toward Amanda as the music changed tunes to begin yet another dance.
Vanessa moved into place right as Amanda moved out of it. She was too late.
The Duke of Willow glanced back to Petunia with a nod of his head, but his eyes caught on Vanessa’s and lingered for moments longer than they ought to. He almost looked perplexed by the obvious look of disapproval written so clearly across her features. His striking green eyes caught on her blue ones, and he did not part them until the last possible second.
She did not breathe until he looked away. Vanessa had never met the Duke herself; she had never evenseenhis likeness before this very moment. She had heard countless mentions of him in the gossip papers, and in her mind, she had just assigned a vision to him that turned out to be nothing at all like the man himself.
He did notlooklike a villain. The Duke looked almost regal. He moved with perfect posture. He was so impossibly tall and broad of shoulder that Amanda looked like a delicate porcelain doll as she twirled in the pale pink of her gown.
“See? It is a perfect match! The Duke was a perfect gentleman to your sister, I will have you know.” Petunia sounded rather pleased with herself for the match.
“Even the prettiest roses still have thorns, Mama. Do not mistake the danger just because it comes in a pretty package.” Vanessa could not seem to tear her eyes from the couple. Though, she refused to admit to herself that it was not Amanda that she was observing.
“Vanessa! My dear girl, I am uncertain what exactly must have gotten into you, but I admit that I do not care for it! You have never been one to be so severe about everything that you see!”
“Then we have something in common after all, Mama, because I am uncertain just when you started to put the prospect of wealth over the happiness and protection of your daughters!”
“I will not stand here and quarrel with you! Amanda is most excited about experiencing everything that thetonhas to offer. She enjoys the social events— something that you once enjoyed too, I might add. While you may be determined to sour yourself against everything that the Season has to offer, just because you were not successful in your first year as your sisters were, does not mean that it is impossible for you!” Petunia was bordering on exasperation as she spoke in her hushed whispers. She did not wish to bring any further attention to them.
“I would much rather stay a spinster than marry merely for money and security!”
Petunia gasped. “You should be grateful that you did not have a husband selected on your behalf! I suggest that you watch your tongue if you wish for it to stay that way! You do not want to appear any more ungrateful than you already do.”
Vanessa wanted to lash out with another comment, but Amanda’s laugh interrupted her train of thought. She covered her mouth daintily with the back of her gloved hand as she laughed at whatever charming thing that the Duke had said to her. The man smiled, nothing more than a quick flash of teeth to the pretty young thing in front of him, and something in Vanessa’s stomach flopped. What were they talking about?
“They make a most handsome couple. You cannot deny that.” Petunia nodded and excused herself from Vanessa’s company.
