Page 22 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
When Veronica walked back into the ballroom, she was immediately swept up by her mother, whose eyes were red with tears.
Veronica was alarmed until her mother grasped her face.
“Darling! Where have you been? I have been worrying myself into a frenzy looking for you!”
“I…” Veronica began before realizing she had no idea how to convey anything that had happened in the last hour. “I was catching my breath in the garden.”
“I had envisioned every conceivable horrid scenario!” Judith cried.
Around them, the ball still buzzed with life, and dancers skipped around one another, weaving in and out of pairs. Hopeful courtships bloomed on the floor, and by the beverage stand, and in the midst of it all, was Evelina, her face flushed pink, and her excitement palpable even from Veronica’s distance.
“Mama, I am quite well,” Veronica assured her mother. “I am just fine. Everything will be all right from now on.”
She held her mother’s hands. Her beautiful mother, who had not deserved any of what she had suffered through. “Weare going to be all right from now on.”
“But—but I do not understand.” Judith frowned. “Veronica, what has happened?”
Veronica caught the Duke weaving his way through the crowd, escaping up the staircase and ignoring the calls of the feathered-decorated ladies behind him. She smiled, at peace with what had happened outside. She was still confused herself, but all that mattered would be seeing her mother happy and well and safe.
Thankfully, it seemed as though Lord Barwicke had disappeared from the ball altogether.
A large blessing,Veronica thought.
She linked her arm through her mother’s, guiding her over to the stand where treats of all kinds had been set up. “Do not worry yourself. Let us enjoy the remainder of our evening.”
Chapter Eight
“How wonderful last night was,” Judith sighed, settling into the sofa in the parlor. She paused, looking to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Carlson, do make sure the cook makes enough cake. I imagine my Veronica will be expecting many suitors today!”
“Mama, your tone is entirely too cheery and optimistic,” Veronica answered, her arms folded over her lap as she leaned forward, looking at the tray of cakes that had already been set out.
“I am sure I saw you dancing with Lord Samson last night,” Judith insisted. “And I noticed several other lords looking at you. There were even several barons in attendance last night, I believe. I have hopes for you this season, my dearest.”
“Is it hope, Mama, or the wish for a way out of our current situation?” Veronica asked, and immediately regretted it. “Forgive me, I?—”
“No, you are quite right,” Judith said. “But I do wish Ihadseen you dancing with more gentlemen. You deserve a beautiful night.”
Not a night spent being pinned in the garden by Lord Barwicke, Veronica thought sadly.
“Lord Samson is handsome,” Veronica said, faking enthusiasm for her mama’s sake. “But he is far too old, and I believe his head is filled with riches rather than a brain.”
Judith allowed an unladylike laugh in response but was stopped by the entering of a footman, dressed in their pale house colors.
“His Grace, the Duke of Westley, is here for Lady Veronica.”
Veronica’s heart plummeted.
I will be in touch, the Duke had said. It seemed he was not wasting any time.A man who will follow duty to no end.
Judith’s eyes cast to Veronica’s as if to ask if she expected such a visit, but Veronica avoided her gaze, her eyes instead fixed on the imposing man who walked through the door as the footman left the room.
“Your Grace,” Judith said, and both Veronica and her mother dropped into a curtsy.
Veronica swallowed, unable to look away from the Duke, especially when he fixed those deep, brown eyes onto her.
“Lady Grantham,” he greeted, hardly taking his eyes off Veronica. “Lady Veronica.”
“I—” Judith trailed off before gasping and moving closer to Veronica.
