Page 12 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
“May I present the duke and duchess of Darendale, and their son, the marquess of Hayewood,” the butler said as Gareth reluctantly followed his parents into the Farenley Manor’s ballroom. He had not forgotten what was said about the eldest Farraway daughter, and he wondered if she might have opted to not attend the ball. He certainly could not blame her, not if she experienced gossip like that which had been exchanged between Lady Cecilia and her mother. Whatever had happened to her appearance, he was certain that she could not be the monster that those two nasty women had claimed her to be.
When Lord and Lady Farenley approached to welcome his family, Gareth was embarrassed to admit, even only to himself, that he did not remember them. He was certain he had met them, especially the marquess, at other events or business meetings. However, he still bowed deeply and smiled warmly at the marquess and marchioness.
“It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your home,” he said with all the kindness and sincerity in him.
Lady Farenley curtseyed to him, returning his smile. Her eyes were so kind and friendly that his anger at Lady Cecilia’sand her mother’s words surged once again.
“Please, enjoy yourselves,” she said, addressing his entire family, but looking directly at him. “My daughters and I want nothing more than for our guests to have a marvelous time.”
Gareth looked up with curiosity despite himself. She had said daughters, which must mean that the daughter who Caroline had called Lady Grace was present. And the first pair of eyes with which his made contact made his heart stop. Staring back at him was one beautiful, hazel eye… and one which was a pale, almost milky blue.
He stared at Lady Grace, recognizing her instantly. And as she noticed him staring at her, she seemed to recall him, as well. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. Color flooded her cheeks, and Gareth could fully see her beauty. The red of her face emphasized the porcelain of the rest of her skin, and the pink of her lips showed him the heart shape of them. She was, indeed, the woman whom he had helped to rescue her cat. And he could not believe that he had not noticed all of her loveliness when he first met her.
He had been unable to forget her since helping her save her gorgeous feline companion. To see her again set off within him such intrigue and excitement. He immediately became restless, anxiously waiting for the pleasantries and introductions to conclude so that he could approach her and ask her to dance. He had already decided that he could easily spend the entire evening with her. If, that was, she would have him.
When his mother nudged him, he thought at first that it was by mistake. He looked at her, intending to excuse himself and dash off to properly introduce himself to Lady Grace. But his mother was glowering at him when he looked at her and she bumped him again, gesturing with her head toward the opposite direction of Lady Grace. Gareth looked, despite not needing to do so to understand what she was trying to tell him. He did look,however, confirming what he knew. Lady Cecilia was standing with her mother, with her gaze fixed directly on him.
Gareth clenched his jaw, struggling against the urge to refuse his mother’s unspoken demand. Lady Cecilia might be his parents’ choice for his future bride but no amount of forcing him to interact with her would make her become his choice. And for some reason, seeing Lady Grace reinforced those feelings. Still, he knew that for the sake of such kind hosts as Lord and Lady Farenley, he had to remain polite. He silently fumed, hating how shallow the entire ton was. He felt bogged down by the expectation for him to marry to improve his status, rather than for love. Especially when the woman his parents preferred for him had spoken such terrible words about the most beautiful woman in the entire room.
Chapter Seven
Grace stood awkwardly, trying not to draw more attention to herself than she was already receiving by staring at the marquess. She averted her gaze, pretending to be scouring the room for a particular familiar face, but she could still feel his eyes on her. She cast a glance from her peripheral vision, only to find that he was, indeed, still looking in her direction. She casually glanced around her to see if there was someone motioning or waving to him, but there was no one behind or directly beside her.
She shuddered, her next thought as unwelcome as it was invasive. Is he finally seeing my scars? She thought, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Can he see how hideous I am, now that he sees me in a room filled with flawless nobility?
When a gentle hand touched Grace’s elbow, she yelped softly. She covered her mouth with one blue-gloved hand and held the other up to her marred cheek. Her eyes fell onto Lady Caroline Albury, who was smiling warmly at her.
“Good evening, Lady Grace,” she said, curtseying elegantly. “I must say that this is a very lovely ball. Your mother and you did a beautiful job with the preparations.”
Grace giggled nervously, glancing around for any sign of her mother. The marchioness was engaged in conversation with a large group of people. Lady Caroline had always been kind to her. But that did little to ease the discomfort she felt at speaking with the woman without the support of her family.
“I am afraid that I had very little to do with the preparations,” she said meekly. “My mother and sister did the planning and made the arrangements. I will, however, pass along your praises to her. I am sure she will be delighted to hearthat you are enjoying yourself.”
Lady Caroline patted her arm just as softly as before and gave her another kind smile.
“That will not be necessary, darling,” she said in a voice that felt like a warm blanket on a cold night to Grace. “I will speak to her myself sometime this evening. Do not trouble yourself with passing along messages when you could be enjoying the ball, too.”
Grace nodded, willing herself not to shift her feet under the weight of the discomfort she felt. She would never tell Lady Caroline how she could never enjoy such events. Although for that moment, while the viscountess stood chatting with her, all those who had seemed eager to gossip about her moments before suddenly seemed to have forgotten her.
She was relieved, sneaking another glance toward the marquess. He was now facing a young lady with blond hair. She blinked, trying to inconspicuously let her left eye linger closed a moment longer to get a better look. The woman was beautiful, with clear, porcelain skin and a delicate frame. Grace’s heart squeezed, and she cursed herself for thinking about how handsome the marquess was. Even though he had been kind to her by helping her rescue Lady Whiskers and not even flinching at the sight of her scars and milky eye, she knew that she could never hope for such an attractive man to find her anything less than unbearable when looking at her.
“Have you met my nephew?” Lady Caroline asked, startling Grace.
Grace looked at the older woman, blushing when she realized that the viscountess had noticed her staring at Lord Hayewood. Paralyzed by horror, shame and disorientation at the suddenness of the viscountess’s question, she silently shook her head. Her mind had been shouting that she did not wish to discuss the marquess. But Lady Caroline seemed to take adifferent meaning. She put a soft hand on Grace’s shoulder and smiled warmly.
“Well, allow me to introduce you to him, my dear,” she said. “He is a kind man, and I believe that the two of you would have a great deal in common.”
Grace nodded, swallowing. The last thing she wanted to do was find herself face to face with the handsome gentleman who had helped her, especially in a social setting and with his family nearby. She glanced at Lady Caroline, wondering at her sudden interest in introducing her to the marquess. Had she sensed Grace’s attraction to him? If so, Grace had been too conspicuous with her lingering gaze, after all. She winced, trying to force yet another smile, when once again all she wanted to do was flee and hide.
When they reached the spot where Lord Hayewood and the young lady were standing, he looked up, his eyes immediately locking with hers. Grace held her breath, searching his eyes for any reaction or clue to his thoughts. Recognition flashed there for an instant as he studied her in return. Lady Caroline looked from her nephew to Grace and then back again, smiling softly to herself.
“Gareth, darling, this is Lady Grace Farraway,” she said. “Grace, this is my nephew and marquess of Hayewood, Lord Gareth Darnall.”
Grace looked at the marquess once more. She knew her eyes must be terribly wide because they felt as though they might burst. Flustered and feeling more embarrassed than she had that evening, she hurriedly curtsied.
“It is lovely to meet you, Lord Hayewood,” she said.
A slow smile dawned on the marquess’s face as he bowed elegantly in return.
