Page 10 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
When the lesson ended, the children uttered their typical groans of disappointment. But Grace grinned at them when Abigail winked at her, giving them all a knowing look.
“After such a wonderful lesson, Mrs. Goodwin thought it would be a good time to go out into our garden and play,” she said.
The disheartened expressions on the children’s faces instantly transformed into brilliant smiles. They shouted with glee and raced each other to the back door of the orphanage. Abigail opened the door, and the children flew into the beautiful, late morning sunshine. Grace followed behind them, ensuring that they recalled where the garden boundaries were and that they were not to go past them. It was not long before the children were chasing each other through the rows of flowers or picking handfuls of nearby wildflowers to brighten up their dorms.
Grace wandered back to Abigail and Millicent, who were sitting at the edge of the garden watching the children play. It was a nice surprise to find Millicent at the orphanage and she sat with them, laughing as Millicent immediately threw her arms around Grace.
“Oh, my dear, I can scarcely contain my excitement for the soiree your family is organising,” she remarked. “I havealways found that your mother possesses a remarkable talent for hosting the most exquisite gatherings.”
Grace smiled, but her heart sank. She still had not come to terms with the idea of attending the ball, despite doing her best to show her family that she was thrilled. She was as determined as ever not to spoil any of the house party or season events for her family. But she was also just as nervous as ever.
“Mother loves hosting parties,” Grace said, trying to sound calmer than she felt.
Naturally, Millicent saw through her façade. She put her arm around Grace’s shoulders, giving her a warm smile.
“Gracie, you must grace the ball with confidence,” she said. “You are fair and accomplished, and more than half of the ton is aware of that. Your insecurities deceive you, and it grieves my heart to know this to be so. But I am here to enlighten you that you deserve to recognise and hold fast to the truth of your worth, and not to allow those unkind insecurities to impede your joy. You are far too lovely and far too amiable for such folly, my dear.”
Grace smiled, grateful as always for her friend’s empathy and compassion. But she could not convince herself that people would simply look past her imperfections, even if she had more confidence. If looking at her face was not enough to get people talking, remembering that she was partially blind and deaf certainly would. Even if she embraced all her flaws, no one else ever would.
***
Caroline was the only person who smiled warmly at Gareth as he joined his family and Lady Cecilia’s for tea. Lady Cecilia herself was still batting her eyelashes at him, and both their mothers gave him polite smiles before returning to their conversation, which undoubtedly revolved around the absurdnotion that he might marry her. But Gareth was, as he had been the past few days, too preoccupied to care. The incredibly beautiful young lady and her beautiful feline in distress took precedence in his mind, as they had since he had met them. He did not even know her name, and yet he could not stop thinking about her. He had noticed some scarring on her face and a milkiness in her left eye. And yet his entire being knew that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered.
“I am so thrilled that Lady Farenley has chosen to host their yearly house party again,” Caroline gushed with an enthusiasm that drew Gareth’s attention. “The idea of attending more of her balls and parties is especially exciting.”
Gareth hid a flinch. He could never be as thrilled about attending a ball as his aunt was. But it did his chaotic mind well to hear his beloved aunt in such high spirits.
His mother, however, sneered. Gareth silently raised an eyebrow as she exchanged a snide glance with Lady Birington.
“I have heard whispers about the Farenley family and their extended stay in Bath,” she said. “I am sure that we all recall the carriage accident involving their eldest daughter a few years ago. It would seem that the accident left her with some rather horrid imperfections.”
Lady Cecilia gasped, nodding.
“My friend, Ursula, said that she saw the beastly scars,” she said. “She was riding to town one day with her mother, and they saw that woman walking from the orphanage. She is a ghastly sight, they said.”
Lady Birington nodded as though she had borne witness to the same event.
“I have heard the same,” she said. “Lady Hammondshire said that she used to be friends with Lady Farenley until after the accident. She said that she had to stop calling on Lady Farenley because her daughter is too hideous to behold.”
Gareth instantly bristled. He did not even know Lady Farenley and her family, or the young lady in question. But hearing such cruel things being said about her, especially when he thought back to the scars on the face of the lovely lady he had encountered, infuriated him. He clenched his jaw, silently willing the women to cease their disgusting judgment and disapproval of someone they did not even know.
“I believe it to be in poor taste to mock and judge someone with problems that are no fault of their own,” Caroline said, interrupting the conversation just before Gareth snapped about the shallowness of the two women. He looked up at her to see that her expression was as polite as her tone, but that her eyes were alight with warning. “It has been three years since my last encounter with the Farraway family, but I always found Lady Grace to be a very pleasant and lovely young woman.”
Lady Cecilia and her mother snickered. However, they seemed to glean from Caroline’s unwavering expression that she was serious. The subject soon changed to Lady Cecilia’s accomplishments and credits, though Gareth could not bring himself to care enough to pay attention. The shallow nature of the conversation was mind numbing to him. He desperately wished to discuss something other than rumors and self-proclamations of musical and dancing prowess. And all the while, his parents were watching him carefully, as if they were waiting for him to either suddenly decide to marry Lady Cecilia, or for him to say something to destroy all hopes of such a union.
As if hearing his thoughts, his mother narrowed her eyes at him just as tea ended. She smiled at him, although there was nothing pleasant in her expression.
“Gareth, darling, today would be a lovely day for Cecilia and you to take a walk in the gardens,” she said. There was no question about it. The suggestion was not a request. It was a demand. Caroline opened her mouth to speak again. But theduke cleared his throat and gave his sister a pointed look. Gareth sighed, feeling resigned. He would either have to allow an altercation between his father and his aunt, or accept, for the moment at least, the defeat of caving to the pressure to seek to marry and secure his family’s legacy.
“Certainly,” he said flatly, rising quickly and offering Lady Cecilia his arm. “Shall we?”
Lady Cecilia giggled, either missing or ignoring the lack of enthusiasm in Gareth’s invitation. She took his arm, waving to her mother like a child before turning fluttering eyes back on him.
“We certainly shall,” she said.
Gareth swallowed every groan as Lady Cecilia began chatting away before they had even reached the back door of his aunt’s mansion. He did not bother trying to focus on the continuation of the talk about dresses, perfumes and dancing coming from his unwanted companion.
He allowed Lady Cecilia to drag him through the well-manicured gardens of his aunt’s estate, but his mind was completely detached. He offered noncommittal, polite murmurs of agreement when the young lady paused to take a breath. But all the while, all he could think of was a way to excuse himself. He might be able to pretend to be heeling to the expectations of his status as future duke. But he knew that no matter what his parents or society felt that he should do, he could not spend the rest of his life listening to such babble. How would he ever escape such a fate?
