Page 79 of A Torn Allegiance
“And did you not use the guise of spy for your father as an excuse to put yourself more into his path for your own personal reasons?” Her eyes twinkled with the great wisdom of a mother.
Elsie groaned. “You portray me in the most conniving light.”
“Not at all. You are a blessing to all who know you. I’m convinced of it. Now, do not fret over this. Your heart was in the right place. I promise it was. And see all the good that’s come of it?”
“Thank you, Mother.” Elsie only partially believed her, but the thought was comforting, so she clung to it. “And now...” She sat up. “I’d best get Abigail working on me.”
“Not yet. Let’s talk for a little longer. I’ve just received a new book of poetry I’ve been dying to show you.”
“You have?”
Her mother lifted a small book off her desk. “This very one. Now, come, let’s see if we can find some good rhymes to take our minds off our troubles, shall we?”
When it came time to depart for the ball, Elsie’s nerves felt only marginally better, but she did feel beautiful. The repose, reading with her mother, had done more than any pomade or color or paint could have done, and the carriage ride was much more pleasant than she’d imagined it would be, sitting close to her mother, laughing about their last meeting.
“I’ll be there with you all night.” Her mother squeezed her hand. “I admit that Lady Annabeth’s mother is similar to her daughter, but there will be plenty of other women to enjoy. And if you find you are seeking better company or your bed, we will leave straightaway. Prince Hayes will understand.” She paused. “He might even come with us.”
Elsie laughed.
Their arrival was uneventful, and Prince Hayes was nowhere in sight.
Lady Annabeth’s home was large and stately. It didn’t sit on the edge of the park, but the family’s residence had a larger space than those who did—most of them, anyway.
When Elsie and her mother presented themselves to their hosts, Elsie couldn’t tell if Lady Annabeth was pleased to see her or not. But her smile was appropriate and gave the appearance of graciousness.
Perhaps everyone’s manners would be at their best and therefore Elsie might be spared any truly rude comments. But it was shunning she was most afraid of. Her fears came out only with people she knew were not accepting. In such company, she feared subtle rejection, veiled compliments or no conversation at all, and because of her insecurity about their reactions to her, even when everyone’s behavior was perfectly lovely, she suspected they didn’t really enjoy her company. Because of her nervousness, she often found herself saying things many would find uncomfortable or inappropriate for the place or, at bare minimum, unrelatable. The uncomfortable reactions she often received had made her lonely. And as all of these negative feelings plagued her, she was reminded again why she avoided Lady Annabeth and her friends, and most certainly the lady’s home, as much as possible.
She and her mother stepped to the entrance of the ballroom. The master of ceremonies announced them, and many turned in their direction. She smiled openly at them all and tried to calm her trepidation. “Perhaps this might be lovely after all.”
“Will Lady Sophie be here?”
“No. She wouldn’t come.”
“Wouldn’t?”
“She said, and I quote, ‘I cannot bear another minute with those harpies.’”
Her mother laughed and then covered her mouth. “Goodness.”
“I cannot blame her one bit.” Lady Sophie was an earl’s daughter, well-ranked and appreciated, but sometimes, the influence of a duke’s title was the only thing that saved a person in these sorts of situations. Where they might feel they could mistreat someone of equal or lower rank, their courage didn’t stretch to someone so elevated as Elsie in rank and position and family reputation. But as she’d tried to point out to her mother, it was more the subtle things that hurt.
Elsie resisted placing a hand on her stomach, but she felt it fluttering as if she were attending her first ball. It had been a long time since she’d attended any event that was not also attended by her fellow bluestockings.
She searched the room, hoping to find just one familiar, friendly face—any would do. Many raised their eyebrows and turned curiously in her direction, but she saw none of a friendly sort of countenance.
As she was about to relegate herself a wallflower and remain at the edge of the room, Prince Hayes approached, and his smiles filled her with relief.
“I’m so pleased you came.” He bowed to Elsie and then to her mother. “Your Grace. Might I escort you two somewhere?”
“We would appreciate it very much.” Her mother smiled. “See that cozy group in the corner there?”
“Where the woman with the rather tall hair is?”
“The very one.”
The woman’s hair was covered with a large turban, but it rose taller than anyone else’s in the room. It was quite a statement.
Mother sat with that group, and then Prince Hayes tucked Elsie’s hand up against his side. “And now, if only we were walking alone in the park.”
