Page 40 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
There had been no deceit or falsehood as he praised her on her talent and the depth of her performance. He had looked at her in a way that confirmed the connection she felt between them. The adoration in his eyes was what kept her awake for so many hours, despite the fatigue that set in after the adrenaline of her performance had dissipated. And when she finally did sleep, she dreamt of dancing a lovely, passionate waltz with the marquess, one which ended in him holding her so close that every part of their bodies was touching, including their lips.
The following day was the final day of her family’s house party. Grace greeted the day with a wistful excitement. What had begun as something which had only made her afraid and nervous was ending as something which had been one of the best things she had experienced since her accident. While she had witnessed more of the cruelty of which the ton was capabletoward a disabled person, she had also enjoyed herself more than she could recall in years. She was sad to see the party end, but she was thrilled that she had done as her parents had suggested and given it a fair chance.
A light rain hailed the beginning of the final afternoon of activities of the house party. The guests filtered into the drawing room to participate in a few hours of poetry reading. Grace, having been the first to enter the room, had settled into a plush purple armchair. She noticed that while people still did not approach her to greet her or engage her in conversation, many of the eyes which had held judgment and pity just days prior now looked at her with respect and kindness. A few people even smiled and waved at her as they sought the best seats in the room to await their turns to read their poetry selections.
Loyal as ever, Lady Whiskers jumped softly into her lap. Grace stroked the animal softly as she rested herself on her mistress’s thighs. The purring from the contented animal brought an idle smile to Grace’s lips. It was nice to have her faithful companion’s company. For as light as Grace’s mood was right then, she knew she still had one more night to look forward to with the likes of the Duchess of Darendale and Lady Cecilia, who she doubted would share the sentiment of respect when it came to her. Just one more evening, and they will be gone, she reminded herself. Then, I shall no longer suffer their cruel words and gazes.
***
When Gareth entered the drawing room of the Farenley estate, his eyes immediately found Lady Grace. She was sitting alone with her feet tucked under her and her devoted feline in her lap. Lady Whiskers saw him before her mistress did, jumping down from her lap and immediately making her way toward him. Several of the guests reached down to pet theanimal, which she allowed only as long as they were in the path she was traversing to where Gareth stood. When she reached him, she wove herself between his ankles, purring as she meowed softly up at him.
“Good day, sweet girl,” he said, smiling warmly as he knelt to scratch the cat on her chest, just where he knew she liked it. The cat predictably flopped on her side, kneading the air as he rubbed her special spot. He looked up and met the gaze of Lady Grace, who had sat up to see where her companion had rushed off to. Still petting the feline, he gave Lady Grace a crooked, nervous smile. No matter how many times he saw her, her beauty never ceased to leave him breathless. He had all the charm he could ever need when he became duke of Darendale. But when he was around her, it was as if he was a young man confronted with his first childhood love.
“Gareth,” his mother said crisply from somewhere nearby. “Come and join us.”
Gareth looked around, finding her seated with Lady Cecilia and her mother not far from where he was kneeling. All three women were looking at him with shrewd, scrutinizing eyes, and he knew they were judging the animal’s presence. Lady Whiskers seemed to sense the tension, as she pulled herself off the ground and followed his gaze with her beautiful eyes. When she saw the duchess and her friends, she hissed, arching her back and grumbling so lowly that only Gareth heard. The duchess must have seen it, however, as her eyes grew wide, and she made a display of leaning back in her chair.
The cat is not going to rip out your throat, Mother, he thought as he patted the animal’s head softly. None of us should be so fortunate.
Aloud, he softly clicked his tongue, smiling weakly at the feline once again.
“It is all right, darling girl,” he said quietly. “Go to yourmistress. I am sure that she needs you right now.”
As if she understood, and to show that she was not upset with Gareth himself, she rubbed herself on him once more, even as she glared yet again at the duchess. Then, she darted back across the room, using the cover of guests who were further away than the ones through whom she had walked to reach him. She leapt onto Lady Grace’s lap, and Gareth watched as her face brightened, if only a little, as she began to pet her beloved feline. Gareth felt marginal relief.
However, he was angry with women like his mother and Lady Cecilia. He would have wished for the event to hurry and end, if not for the presence of Lady Grace. Out of spite, Gareth chose a seat halfway between where they were and where Lady Grace sat with her cat still in her lap.
Soon after, the marchioness entered, announcing the beginning of the passage reading. Each guest held a book containing poetry in his or her lap, and Gareth realized that he did not. Fortunately, as he glanced around, he saw a book with works of Lord Byron sitting on a table behind him.
The marchioness started the reading on the opposite side of the room, and Gareth was content to read his selection and ensure that it suited what he wished to say right then. But every once in a while, he glanced at Lady Grace, awe stricken by the way she smiled at a particular poetry passage or giggled at another. She clearly had no trouble understanding the poems being read. There were some which he saw her mouthing to herself, as though she had memorized them.
Lady Cecilia, however, looked as though she barely understood what was happening. Despite her smile, her eyes were vacant, and she did nothing to engage or participate in compliments or remarks about passages that other guests read. Gareth was not surprised. He only wished that he could have sat beside Lady Grace, without fear of causing a scene or makingthings even more difficult for him with his parents. For the time being, however, he would just be grateful to be away from them.
That did not last, however. His mother whispered something to Lady Cecilia between readings, and Lady Cecilia rose, making her way to him. Both their mothers followed closely behind, looking at Gareth with determined disapproval. He closed his eyes, waiting for them to reach him, and ignoring when they spoke as they sat around him.
They immediately started a conversation which had nothing to do with the reading. Gareth deliberately ignored them, refusing to join them in drawing attention away from the readings and discussions thereof. But his mother’s firm tap on his shoulder let him know that no such efforts would be successful.
“Gareth, I believe that Cecilia was speaking to you,” she said. The words were little more than a hiss, and Gareth clenched his teeth to refrain from a sound of his own. He turned his head and looked at Lady Cecilia with the blandest expression he could muster.
“Yes?” he asked.
Lady Cecilia’s face brightened, and Gareth regretted the decision at once.
“I wondered if you are going to the next ball,” she asked. “I was so excited that I could not wait to buy a dress. I purchased it two days ago, and I can hardly wait to wear it. I do hope you like it.”
Gareth sighed. He knew that any conversation with her would be no deeper than that. He had just hoped that perhaps, with both their mothers present and in the midst of a specific activity, she might keep the conversation more on the appropriate subject. And yet neither of their mothers seemed to think anything was wrong with what she said. Gareth simply resigned himself to polite, tense smiles and noncommittalagreements throughout the conversation. He wanted the reading to end now, just so he could get away from her. There was another ball that evening, hosted by Lady Farenley. Perhaps there, he could find solace away from Lady Cecilia.
When the evening finally came, Gareth could not reach the ballroom quickly enough. And in a turn of luck, Lady Grace entered not long after he did. Lady Cecilia had not yet arrived, so he was allowed a moment to simply admire her. She was wearing a deep red dress, rather than her usual dark blue, and it was just as stunning on her as the dark blue was. It seemed to give her skin a pink glow, and her eyes sparkled like the gemstones which lined the dress’s bodice. In that moment, a realization he had tried to bury reached the front of his mind. He was irrevocably in love with her.
***
Grace was so busy watching Lord Hayewood in conversation with Lady Cecilia that she missed her turn to read. It did not matter to her any longer, anyway. Her hopes of getting to discuss poetry with the marquess were dashed with Lady Cecilia and her mother, accompanied by the Duchess of Darendale, sitting beside him, distracting him from the eye contact she had been intermittently making with him during the reading. She could not help feeling pangs of jealousy as the woman beside him talked and laughed. He was not saying much, but she seemed rather pleased when he did speak.
How foolish it is to feel this way, she thought, frowning as Lady Cecilia leaned in close to the marquess with her hand resting on his arm. They were clearly quite familiar with one another. Grace wondered if she had lost him to the blond woman before she even met him. Beside her, Millicent and Anne were discussing a poem by Lord Byron. But she was too distracted to pay any attention. She could not stop staring at the marquess,thinking about the waltz they had shared and their time together at the fair. She felt selfish and childish, but she wanted to be the only woman with whom he spent time.
And with that realization came another: she felt more for him than she had been able to admit. In that moment, she believed that she loved him. And that made the heartache increase tenfold. Her emotions were in turmoil, and she wanted to leave the room. But she would not ruin one of her mother’s beloved house party events. No matter how much her chest ached and her skin crawled.
When the poetry reading finally ended, she slipped out of the room as quickly as she could. Juliet followed her wordlessly to help her dress for the party that her mother was hosting that evening. She silently chose a dark red dress with matching gloves and slippers, and a red hat with a red lace veil which covered much of the left side of her face. But as Juliet was helping her dress, she finally broke the silence.
