Page 53 of A Duke Under Her Spell
Chapter 23
The day of the ball arrived, and the townhouse was a flurry of activity as Lady Cordelia fussed about in preparation. They had received callers every day since their arrival paying their respects to the Duke and Dowager Duchess, but Lady Cordelia had by far been the most social of them all. It was as if Bath had made her come alive, fluttering about from one house to another. The Earl was frequently absent, spending much of his time on his own tending to various business connections.
Marybeth and Mrs. Snow would tend to the Dowager Duchess’s needs in the morning, then Felix would come and take his mother to the waters during the day in the wheeled bath chair. As the Dowager Duchess was not up to visitors the majority of the time, Felix bore the bulk of the family social responsibilities in the afternoon and evening hours. He was continuously coming and going to one social engagement or another, many times with Lady Cordelia on his arm.
When Marybeth was not helping the Dowager Duchess, she roamed the streets, drinking in the sights and sounds of the city. She loved the old Roman architecture of the baths mixed with the more modern aspects throughout the town. When at the townhouse, she did her best to stay away from Felix so as not to fall victim to temptation. On the night of the ball she intended on staying home with the Dowager Duchess; however, the Duchess was having none of it.
“Marybeth, I will not allow you to remain behind with me and squander the pleasures of youth. You have never had the opportunity to attend a ball before now and I do not wish for you to miss it on my account.”
“I will be more than happy remaining here with you. I have not ever, nor do I now desire to attend a ball,” Marybeth argued in return.
“That is only because you have never been to one, my dear. A ball is the premiere event to meet potential suitors. Perhaps you might be so fortunate as to find the one for you at your first social event.”
“That is highly unlikely.” Marybeth shook her head in good natured refusal of the Dowager Duchess’s attempts at matchmaking. “I have no desire to find a husband.”
The Dowager Duchess’s face registered shock at Marybeth’s words. “No husband?”
“No,” Marybeth shook her head smiling at the Duchess’s reaction.
“But every girl of age seeks a husband.” The notion of Marybeth’s confession had truly confounded the noble lady. “I was so very happy with mine.” Her face took on a dreamy faraway look as if she were remembering a happier time. “So happy…”
Marybeth smiled and sat down on the bed next to the Dowager Duchess, taking her hand. “Tell me about him.”
“Arthur was a wonderful man. He was strong, handsome, caring, a magnificent leader and father,” the Dowager Duchess smiled fondly. “Felix may have my outward appearance, but he has his father’s strength of mind and heart.”
“He sounds lovely.”
“He was. I was blessed to find such a love.”
“Not everyone is so fortunate.”
The Dowager Duchess studied Marybeth’s face. “But you could. You will not know what awaits you until you try.”
Marybeth sighed. The Dowager Duchess spoke with such earnest that to deny her further felt disrespectful. “I have nothing to wear.”
“Yes, but I do. We are of a similar build, are we not?” the Dowager Duchess smiled. “Mrs. Snow, if you would be so kind as to please bring out a selection of my dresses for Miss Wright.”
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Snow bowed, casting a disapproving look at Marybeth. She moved into the dressing room and emerged moments later with an armload of dresses.
Marybeth eyed the pile with trepidation. The colors were beautiful, but she could not imagine floating about the dance floor without tripping and falling over her own skirt. “I do not know how to dance,” she admitted, reaching out to feel the silken fabric.
“That too can be remedied.” The Dowager Duchess waved away Marybeth’s worries and reached out to ring the bell pull. A footman immediately appeared at the door. “Please find His Grace and inform him that his mother requests his presence in her bedchamber forthwith.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and went in search of the Duke.
“Really, this all unnecessary,” Marybeth protested. She had not gone to so much trouble to avoid Felix just to have his own mother put them in the same room together. She knew the Dowager Duchess would not approve of their being together were she to know the fullest extent of their feelings for one another. She had seen the look in the Duchess’s eyes when she had caught Felix looking at Marybeth.
When Felix entered the room, he walked over and place a kiss on his mother’s forehead. “You requested my presence?” he enquired with a smile.
“Yes. We find we are in need of your services.”
“Oh?” he asked with a raised brow in curiosity. “And what services might those be?”
“We need you to teach Marybeth how to dance,” the Dowager Duchess announced, the look on her face very much resembling that of a cat who has just caught a canary.
“I see,” Felix answered turning his gaze to Marybeth. Something flickered in the Duke’s eyes, but she was not at all sure what the look had meant.
“I am sure that His Grace has far more important matters to attend to than teaching me to dance,” Marybeth protested.
