Page 29 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“This way? Or how about this?” Meg asked, holding Juliet’s hair in two different ways.
Which would he like?
Angered, Juliet tried to push thoughts of Lord Ashton away, but it was no use. She kept dwelling on which updo he might like more.
“The first one, please,” she asked. Meg smiled and started to pin Juliet’s hair, adjusting the curling locks.
“You have spent a lot of time planning your gown tonight, My Lady,” Meg said and glanced at Juliet in the reflection. “Would this be because of the gentleman you mentioned yesterday?”
“No,” Juliet lied. Clearly, her tone was not convincing as her maid brushed her dark brown hair out of her eyes and looked straight at Juliet in the reflection. “Oh, am I this transparent?” Her shoulders slumped.
“Would it be so awful, My Lady?” Meg asked, pausing with the pinning of her hair. “If you were to pursue this man.”
“You have been here for years, Meg. You were around when the argument first happened, were you not?”
“Yes, but you are the one who sees how your father feels. Does he truly still hold onto his anger so much that to consider forgiving … to forget and move on …” She chewed her lip, her eyes casting down to Juliet’s hair. “Would it be impossible?”
“Yes.” Juliet stared into her own eyes, looking at that violet hue. She knew it with certainty, recalling the last time the Duke of Lantham’s name had been mentioned in her father’s company. He’d gone from the jovial person he always was to wearing a heavy and morose glare. He had not spoken for the next half an hour altogether. “If I were to express an interest in the duke’s son, I think my father would see it as a betrayal.”
She sniffed suddenly, surprised at the sudden lump in her throat.
“It does not matter.” She forced a smile for Meg’s benefit. “I barely know this man. Lord Ashton and I might have had an exciting meeting. He might be an attractive man and certainly a … a captivating one,” she murmured more to herself than her maid, “but these are things I can learn to ignore, surely?”
Meg didn’t answer but seemed to focus most assiduously on the task with Juliet’s hair.
“If I can persuade myself to stop thinking of him, then surely we can meet in company as indifferent acquaintances. Yes. That shall be my aim.” She sniffed once more, then shook her head.
I truly am losing my mind over a man I have met just a couple of times! What has become of me?
“Oh dear, Meg. I am one of those foolish women in operas and theatre shows that I usually laugh at for forming such quick attachments to men they do not know.” She shook her head at her own foolishness.
Silence fell between them. Meg finished with her hair, and Juliet placed a bracelet on her wrist. She kept praying that Lord Ashton would not be at the opera tonight, for if he was there, she was likely to be distracted and in agitated turmoil once more, thanks to her own maddening thoughts.
Meg was so silent as she sought out a shawl for Juliet to wear in a cupboard that Juliet turned towards her, a thought occurring.
“You were there at the time, were you not?” Juliet asked softly.
“What?” Meg turned around, carrying a thin blue shawl in her grasp.
“I was just saying you were there. You still worked for my parents when the fight happened. Do you remember anything about the day it happened?” Juliet asked as she thanked Meg and took the shawl from her.
“I was only a baby at the time. I remember nothing of the day or the family, but you must remember something about them.” Juliet went to a tall mirror and checked her clothing, turning back and forth to examine the ivory-white gown trimmed in blue silk.
“I only remember a little,” Meg said, rather noncommittally.
“What was the family like?”
“Well, it’s hard to recall. The Duke of Lantham was once a good friend to your father. I remember your mother saying there was scarcely a conversation where they were not laughing together. They were natural friends, the kind of company that gets along at once. It is a rarity indeed.”
Juliet paused, fidgeting with her shawl as she stared down at her hands. She had not heard of this before, what her father and the duke were like together when they were friends.
“And my mother? Was she friends with the duchess?”
“She was.” Meg nodded. “They were constantly at one another’s sides, visiting one another, going to Covent Garden together. Yes, they were dear to one another indeed.”
“And the day they argued?” Juliet turned to face Meg fully. “What happened then?”
“Oh, I wasn’t there.” Meg shook her head. Strangely, she also avoided Juliet’s gaze. She moved away across the room, chewing her lips and tidying up the vanity table. “I only heard things afterwards, and who knows what is true from such a day. I think it best you ask your parents, My Lady, rather than me.”
