Page 30 of Destined to be a Duchess
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Marianne paused on the pebbled courtyard behind the manor, lacing her fingers in front of her as she looked out over the grounds. Hagram Park was tucked away in what felt like the middle of a forest. The house was beseeched by high-rising trees at every angle, obscuring them from the rest of the world. The main gardens were razed flat, stretching out for at least half a mile in front of her until they surrendered to more woodland.
“The perfect playground for restless lords,” she murmured to herself, taking the steps down onto the grass.
She had been ordered downstairs by Miss Barclay once they were done unpacking her belongings. It was important, Miss Barclay said, that Marianne acquainted herself with Lady Eliana and her friends as soon as possible. Alliances formed quickly at gatherings such as these. Marianne would be left out to dry like yesterday’s washing if she didn’t find a friend to hang on to fast.
That was the last thing she wanted. All the guests were adults, but Catherine and Miss Barclay had described the young ladies of thetonas cabalistic children. Marianne didn’t want to be the only girl left with no one to play with.
“The odds are stacked against you,” Miss Barclay had said not ten minutes earlier, folding Marianne’s night chemise. “You are already a curiosity because of being Nicholas Chambers’ daughter. It will single you out, and you must use that to your advantage before it gets the better of you. Become like the newtoy they wish to play with, and then transcend your role the moment you have some leverage.”
As if Marianne knew where to find some. She figured the group of ladies lounging on blankets in the middle of the lawn was a decent place to start. She approached them with her heart in her throat, trying to recall all of Catherine’s advice on making the perfect introduction.
She could barely see the women’s faces until she was within metres of them. Each lady held a parasol, protecting themselves from the sun. Marianne cursed herself for forgetting her own parasol in her room. She counted maybe twelve women, varying in age, appearance, and size.
They were spread out on four matching blankets, looking like one of the paintings Catherine hung in her solar. Each lady looked perfect in a white cotton day gown. Marianne, by comparison, stuck out like a sore thumb with her bright red spencer and the matching ribbon in her hair.
A woman on the nearest blanket peered up at Marianne from beneath the rim of her parasol, breaking the conversation she had been having with the plumper young lady beside her.
“Heaven on Earth,” she exclaimed, rising into an elegant stand. “Everyone else has arrived, so you must be Lady Marianne …”
The mere mention of her name caused the conversations to cease all around her. Marianne looked helplessly at the woman who had given her away. She was taller than Marianne, with silky black hair and clear brown eyes. A mole decorated her upper lip, drawing Marianne’s gaze to her naturally red lips.
“That would be me, yes,” Marianne stammered, blinking as the woman grabbed her wrist.
“Well, how wonderful to meet you. I am Lady Eliana Webb—but please, you will call me Eliana. You must have met my father when you arrived, Lord Hindborough.” She turned Marianne towards her friends. “Everyone, say hello to Lady Marianne.”
Like a well-trained troupe of actors, the ladies chorused a greeting for her. Marianne gave her most winning smile, gasping as Lady Eliana began dragging her down onto the blanket with her. It was impossibly soft, where it brushed against Marianne’s stockinged ankle. She shifted into a halfway comfortable position, barely able to catch her breath before Lady Eliana was pawing at her again.
“Come here and sit with me,” Lady Eliana urged, smiling at Marianne sweetly. “Did you forget your parasol? That’s no matter. You can share with me. I can give you anything else you may be lacking when we return inside. You only have to ask, Marianne. Really, you mustn’t be shy.”
Eliana angled the instrument over them—tilting it so that the two disappeared slightly from sight behind the lacy fabric.
“You have such a lovely complexion,” Eliana went on. “You would not want to ruin it by staying out in the sun too long. Now …” She grabbed one of Marianne’s hands, fixing it against the picnic blanket. “Tell meeverythingabout you. I know most of the story from the duchess’ letter. But so much can get lost in translation. What has happened to bring you here? Start from the very beginning.”
Marianne hesitated. Catherine had urged her not to reveal too much about her past to the ladies at Hagram Park. One whiff of blood, and they would pounce on her, tearing her story to pieces. Thetondid not treat outcasts like Marianne with kid gloves. One mistimed remark could make Marianne a laughingstock.
“You will know the bones of the story,” Marianne said, averting her gaze to what little she could see of the grounds. “My father, Nicholas Chambers, was the son of the late Earl of Foxburn. He eloped with a woman who worked for his father, and I was the product of their union. I have come to Norfolk to discover my past, first and foremost.”
The words sounded different coming from her mouth than when Catherine had first composed them for her, having been learned like lines of a play. Marianne had kept her voice low, wishingEliana had properly introduced her to the other guests before stealing her away.
That couldn’t have made for a good first impression, already establishing Marianne as a novelty to be fought over. And first impressions, the duchess had implored, meanteverythingin their world.
Eliana seemed thrilled by the story. “It’s the stuff of novels,” she said, gracefully tucking her legs beneath her. “How has it been for you so far? Staying with Her Grace at Moorhaven Manor?”
“I have little to compare it to,” Marianne began, going slightly off-script. “But the duchess has been nothing but kind and patient with me. And the manor is beautiful. Everything else is completely overwhelming, of course.” She laughed.
“Frankly, when my father announced that Anthony was bringing some friends along, I could barely believe it. He’s not the sociable type. When he explained thatyouwere the one coming with him, I worried they were pushing you into things too quickly. He lacks that sort of sensibility. He doesn’t understand feminine sensitivities.” She smiled, but she wore the expression strangely.
“I pictured you turning up in rags with your hair all in knots. And I told my father I would take you aside, dress you, and cut your hair, even if I was ridiculed for it. Anything to help you become the lady you are destined to be. I really mean that, Marianne.”
“Thank you,” Marianne said, even though it sounded more like a question.
“My initial plan was completely childish, and I see that now. I allowed my imagination to run rampant.” She patted Marianne’s hand. “You’re nothing like a character in a novel, are you? You’re real, and you’re going through so much.” Eliana sucked in a breath. “And yet the offer still stands. Anything you need from me, I will give to you.”
Marianne only wanted her to stop offering to help. She felt like the world’s best-dressed beggar. Was that what the other ladies thought of her? Did they see her as a worthy cause they could advocate for? A problem they could fix because it was the charitable thing to do? A niggling, dark voice sounded at the edge of her mind …
Is that what Catherine and Anthony think of me?
