Page 66 of The Duke's Last Dance
The gardens! He would be able to get in through the gardens. The party would most likely be inside, or in the gardens, and he had a feeling that it was not worth the trouble of trying to fence in the gardens for one night. For one night, the gardens would be the vulnerability in their security that Nicolas needed.
With his entrance figured out, he entered Ashwood Manor and went up to his room. The home was different without his father there to make sure everything was running smoothly, but he had to say that he thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping everything running as smoothly as his father had done. There had been no major hiccups yet.
Yet being the word there that made him worry he may still mess up.
“Breathe, Nicolas, breathe. You will find a way to make everything work before you have to worry about it,” he reminded himself.
He entered his room, and then shut the door.
To make sure that he looked the part would take a while, and he knew that he did not have time to dally. So, he went about freshening up from the week’s journey. He shaved his stubble, and he trimmed his sideburns. He made sure he washed up, and then he put on his best suit.
If he was going to crash a party for the love of his life, he was going to make sure he looked as good as he could while doing it.
He stood in front of the mirror, the sun now setting. He adjusted his neck-cloth, his palms sweating.
All afternoon, he had worried that he would not have the guts to do this. But now that he stood here, adjusting everything so that he looked the part of a partygoer, he realized that if he did not do this, he would never have another chance.
It was quite literally now or never, and he had to take that chance. He had to take the chance that Catherine was going to yell at him, tell him that it was over to his face, just so that she would know the truth. If she could accept the truth, then perhaps he still had a chance with her.
The engagement announcement was not due to appear in the papers for another day. She could still back out of it. He could change her mind.
He hoped.
He took in a deep breath.
“You need to do this, Nicolas. Just breathe. Just… just breathe.” He looked out of the window to Camberton Manor as he whispered to himself.
The people had been streaming into the manor for almost an hour. He could not believe that so many people were going to congratulate Catherine on an engagement that was not the best fit for her. Whatever the reasons for the engagement, Nicolas knew that it was not going to work out as Catherine hoped it would.
He finished adjusting everything, and then he walked downstairs. He had already given the maids and the butlers the night off. Now that he was walking through the empty halls of Ashwood, all he could think about was how lively it would be were he to wed Catherine. They could have the ceremony here, and the reception in the gardens of Camberton next door.
Catherine would certainly appreciate that, he thought.
But first, he had to convince her that this was the best thing she could do; marry him instead of marrying Lord Burton.
Regardless, Nicolas left Ashwood Manor as quietly as he could through a back door. The gardens connected to the gardens at Camberton by coincidence, and tonight, he planned to use that to his advantage. It would make it easier to get into Camberton unseen.
As he walked towards the edge of the manor, his palms began to sweat again. He could not breathe, feeling as though his chest was being compressed to such a degree that even breathing in was difficult.
“Easy, Nicolas, easy…” he whispered to himself. “You’re doing this for Catherine. For Catherine.”
He nodded slowly as he stepped across the invisible line that separated Ashwood from Camberton.
“For Catherine,” he said again.
Then, he started to roam the gardens. With so many people in the dining hall and so many people wishing her a happy marriage, he knew it was only a matter of time before Catherine stepped out for some air. She had never done well in large crowds indoors.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Catherine looked around the dining hall. Her mother had indeed spared no expense for this engagement dinner. The freshest of flowers adorned every table. The neatest, nicest of silverware had been purchased. The best chef money could hire had made the food tonight. Her mother had brought out the best crystal they owned for the glasses and the plates. It was every picture of a perfect party, and Catherine smiled a little.
Of course, all of that paled in comparison to the dress her mother had had made for her. It was a pale pink ball gown with matching silk gloves. The dress had a small train behind it, and she felt a little overdressed for her own party. It was the engagement dinner, not the wedding. She had told her mother as much when they had gone in for the final fitting, but her mother thought it looked better with the train than without it, so here she was, wearing a dress with a short train.
Miss Amelia had helped her into it, and wearing it was quite the experience. It was a heavy dress, and even the crinoline and underclothing meant to help her deal with the weight could not completely free her small frame of all the weight that she had to carry.
The Duke of Hestina walked into the room, and Catherine could hardly contain a gasp. He had come dressed in the most wonderful of suits, a dark black fabric for the coat, vest, and pants and a beautifully pressed white shirt underneath. He had on a black tie, and he looked every inch the prince of her dreams.
Her heart slowly began to melt.
