Page 12 of A Bride for the Beastly Duke
“Thank you. I cannot claim much responsibility for that. I think Lily came out of the womb with a book in hand.”
Mary tittered politely. “Yes, she struck me as very curious. One must be careful that she does not become a bluestocking, however. Never fear, Your Grace, I shall be sure to widen her interests. We have been speaking of starting on the piano.”
Ava felt a flash of annoyance at Mary’s patronizing words. Instead of replying, however, she decided to ignore them. “Yes, well, I would like Lily to meet His Grace during supper, and so if you would be so kind as to show me where you have stored her gowns so that I may dress her…”
“Oh no, no, no, Your Grace, there is no need for you to worry. I shall have her dressed and delivered to you in no time.”
Ava frowned, not happy to be dismissed from her daughter’s room in such a manner as if she had less right to dress up her own daughter than this brand-new governess. She was not sure that she liked Mary at all. However, she did recognize that the governess was only doing her duty as she understood it. It was Ava that was not sure she liked the fact that her new positionmeant giving up the simple pleasures of motherhood, such as dressing her own child. Nodding jerkily at Mary, she left to change for dinner.
She was not surprised to find Diana already waiting for her in her chambers, arranging various brushes and lotion bottles on the dressing table. Ava could not help noting that her room was much neater than when she had left it with everything put away in its place. On the mantle by the window stood a vase of pink roses— Ava’s favorite— and she smiled.
“It is good to have you here, Diana,” she said warmly.
Diana turned around and smiled. “Thank you, Your Grace. Your sister sends her greetings and bids me hope that you are settling in well. I think she was a little worried about you.”
Ava smiled. “That is kind of her to spare a thought for me. It is early days yet. We shall see how it goes.”
Diana straightened up, hands clasped in front of her, as she looked at Ava expectantly. “Is there any particular gown that you will be requiring for dinner?”
“Not particularly. It will just be the family dining tonight, and I do not want to stand on ceremony.”
What Ava did not say was that, with Edward’s news that it was her dowry sustaining them, she did not want to appear at dinnerin extravagant gowns that might embarrass her husband or his aunt, regardless of how Lady Lanton had treated her.
She did not want to look more richly appointed than her surroundings and make the differences between them even more glaringly obvious. She was sure that the household had come to its own conclusions as to why Edward had married an unwed mother, but she did not want to feed those stories.
She had enough of people speculating about her to last a lifetime.
“Bring me the periwinkle blue gown.”
“The one with a lacy decolletage?”
“No, no. The one with a simple square neckline and no frills.”
Diana frowned. “I am not sure I packed that one. Let me check.” She went over to the closet and made as if to look over the clothes. Ava, knowing her well, deduced that Diana had left that particular gown behind in London.
She never did like it,Ava recalled fondly.
Diana thought that the gown was too simple for a lady.
“It is more suited to a governess or a housekeeper,” she had complained once when Ava wanted to wear it for a walk in thepark—never mind that all Ava wanted to do was disappear into the background and not be noticed by the other members of theton.
“Leave it then. How about the lavender gown? Would that meet your standards?” Ava teased.
Diana cast her a sardonic glance. “Yes, that one is quite pretty.” She reached into the wardrobe and pulled it out at once. Ava almost burst out laughing. Instead, she took a seat on the stool by the dressing table so that Diana could brush her hair.
They sat in peaceful silence, the only sound the gentle susurrus of the brush as it stroked through her hair.
Diana sighed, “I just love how your brown hair gleams in the candlelight. And these red shining streaks threaded through the brown…” she shook her head wonderingly, “…just so pretty. I wish my hair was like yours and not this dull mousy brown.”
Ava turned her head to look at Diana, only to have the ladies gently turn her back. “Your hair is neither dull nor mousy. It is a perfectly pretty brunette.”
“While yours is like a tree bark glistening in a stream of water, all different colors of brown mixed together as if you were wearing a wig—as if God himself could not decide which shade to give you and so gave you them all.”
Ava laughed. “You are so dramatic, Diana. One would think you’d never seen hair like mine before.”
“Well, I haven’t. Not really. Do you remember Janet McCreery? She was Irish. She had red hair but dark, almost brown. That’s the closest I have seen to yours. But instead of mostly red, yours is mostly brown.” She lifted a strand of hair in her hand, running the brush through it as she gazed in admiration. “I am so happy you are married now, and we can dress you up in the prettiest gowns, and you can go out and have people see you and admire you…” Diana’s eyes were dreamy and faraway.
Ava frowned. She had never thought about how her confinement would affect those who served her. Her shame was theirs too and so would her triumphs be. She blew out a breath, relaxing on the stool. “What jewelry do you think I should wear?” she asked.
