Page 24 of A Tenuous Betrothal
The modiste agreed she looked best in the bolder and more lavish colors, so Rhi now found herself wearing Sophie’s most daring gown, a stunning emerald green, nearly ready to depart for the dinner party.
After her lady’s maid had finished, Sophie walked at her side, and Rhi had to admit the two of them were a sight like she had never seen. Their hair was exquisite, their dresses divine. Rhi had forgotten she could appear thus and was almost afraid to allow others to see her. She had no idea why, really, but it seemed a risk.
“You look concerned. Do you not like your dress?” Sophie asked.
“No, I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you for sharing it.”
“My pleasure. I almost hate to admit that you look better in it than I.”
“I cannot believe that since we are the same size.”
“True, but there is just something striking about you. I’m afraid men will be flocking to you.”
As they approached the stairs, Rhi was immediately plagued with a pang of loneliness and sorrow for a missed opportunity with her parents. This moment of making an entrance down the stairs in a beautiful gown was meant for loved ones and someone who smiled in appreciation from the bottom. She tried to set those feelings aside as they took the first step down the stairs.
“You will not be wearing that,” a gruff voice called up to them from the bottom of the stairs.
Rhi nearly stumbled but reached for Sophie, who squeezed her arm and whispered, “Tosh.”
Prince Marc shook his head, his arms across his chest, his feet apart in a confrontational stance.
Rhi wasn’t certain what to make of this man. “Pardon me?” She took another step.
“You cannot go dressed like this anywhere a man will see you.”
Rhi lifted her chin. “And why not?”
Prince Marc looked flustered. He gestured to the duke. “Come, man. Tell her she must change into something more sensible.”
The duke looked up at them, studied his wife for a moment, and then shook his head. “I see nothing wrong with her appearance. She looks quite fetching, if you must know my thoughts on the matter. That dress was designed by the best modiste in London and looks like it fits her perfectly.”
Prince Marc looked from him to Rhi and back. Then he pointed. “Are we not concerned that every rake in the place will be looking to lure her away and ruin her forever?” He gestured up at Sophie. “Is that not what happens? I’ve seen it or heard tell of it every time I’m here.”
“Of course that happens, but I’m not sure what her dress has to do with it. Sounds more like a problem with the men.” Sophie shook her head as she and Rhi continued down the stairs. “Come, Prince Marc. You will see that she will be perfectly safe with us. Besides, this dinner is not a ball, and everyone who will be there has the most pristine reputation.”
His shoulders relaxed somewhat. “True. I forget myself.”
Together they all went out the front door, Rhi ignoring the prince. Under her breath on the way to the carriage, Rhi muttered to Sophie, “He’s making himself ridiculous.”
“I can’t explain it.”
“Nor I, nor will I be able to stomach much more.”
They waited to be handed up. The prince stepped forward and offered his hand. Even though Rhi’s fingers behaved rebelliously with all manner of tingling sensations at his touch, she allowed the assistance for as short a time as possible.
Once inside the carriage, she sat ramrod straight, cursing their seating, which required the prince to join her on the same side. Naturally, the duke sat next to his wife. Rhi moved as close as she could to the opposite window, but the prince moved to sit closer to her than was necessary. He rested his hand on the bench beside her. Why was he even coming? There was no need. Though she’d at first worried he would desert her at the first opportunity, his overinvolved, demanding role might be far worse. As she had expressed, he was not necessary to her quest to find a husband. Just because he didn’t want to fill that position did not therefore qualify him to have or share his opinions about her choice. And he had no right to express thoughts about her clothing either. She would not have him taking on a father-figure role in her life. Her heart clenched at the thought. She missed her father. She missed him so much she found it difficult to relax. No man would ask her father for her hand. Her father would not step in to protect her from unwanted attention. He would not handle introductions to sons of his friends. Though they’d lived far from London her whole life, and though she’d not really expected a Season, especially once her mother passed, having one without her father was painful.
“Are you well?” Prince Marc leaned toward her. An enticing smell of cedar filled the air around them. She resisted a new urge to breathe in deeply.
She lifted her lashes and turned to him. His earnest eyes were close, closer than she’d expected, so she looked away. “Yes, I am well.”
“You do look beautiful. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did when I should have just told you that.”
“Thank you.” She studied his face for a moment and then nodded. “And I accept your apology.”
“I’m afraid I might make frequent mistakes throughout this process. I’m in a new role this Season.”
A feeling she’d never felt before rose up through her center to her throat and sort of froze there. It was not unpleasant, but it was strong. A man who apologized in the same breath he told her she was beautiful and vowed to help her find a husband... he was unique indeed. And intriguing. She wanted to know much, much more about him. And just like that, she’d gone from irritation toward Prince Marc to intense curiosity about him.
