Page 34 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
Juliet gasped, pretending to be offended.
“Do you mean that my judgment is not to be trusted?” she asked with a tone of mock horror and hurt feelings. “Milady, you wound me.”
Grace laughed again, standing still just long enough for Juliet to help her out of her day dress.
“You are most trusted, indeed,” she said, wishing to reassure her maid despite the humor of the moment between them. “However, I believe that your eyes may see a romance that cannot possibly exist.”
Juliet paused in her work of helping her mistress into her pale blue evening gown, studying Grace as though she were mad.
“Are you saying that you yourself do not see any indication that the marquess has feelings for you?” she asked dubiously.
Grace bit her lip, cursing her blushing cheeks. She had, in fact, witnessed the behavior and actions of the marquess, which certainly did indicate that he had taken a strong liking to her.So much so, in fact, that for most of the day, she had lived as though she had no scars and that there was no reason why the two of them could not have anything more than a friendship as a result of them. But even though she had not thought about her scars, they were still present. And she was not conceited enough to believe that the marquess could actually fall in love with her. I do not believe that… do I? she wondered with awe.
“That is precisely what I thought, milady,” Juliet said with a giggle before Grace could respond. “Pray, do not trouble yourself to feign modesty. It is not hubristic to entertain the notion that a gentleman of such distinction as the marquess could indeed find love for you. I have often reiterated that you could bear scars from your bosom to your crown, and yet still be deemed the most enchanting lady in all of London. I am quite confident that Lord Hayewood perceives this truth.”
Anne burst into the room just then, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Lord Hayewood sees what?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
Grace shook her head, opening her mouth to tell her sister playfully to mind her business and her manners. But Juliet giggled, motioning for the younger Farraway girl to come closer.
“Let me tell you about the afternoon Lady Grace had with Lord Hayewood,” she said.
***
Gareth could not hide his restlessness as he entered the pub in which the charity ball was being held. He had always enjoyed charity events far more than typical season balls and events. But as this one was to raise funds to help the orphanage, it made it all the more important to Gareth. He tucked away a small satchel in his jacket pocket, filled with gold, seeking out the vicar’s wife. He found her just inside the doorway to the pub, greeting guestsas they arrived.
“Good evening, Mrs. Goodwin,” he said, patting her shoulder warmly. “I have something for you.”
Abigail Goodwin looked at him with a curious smile.
“Oh?” she asked. “That is rather generous of you.”
Gareth blushed, shaking his head as he pulled out the satchel.
“It is my pleasure, that is what it is,” he said, tucking the bag into her hands gently. “I only hope it helps.”
The vicar’s wife gasped as she looked at the satchel.
“Lord Hayewood, this must be a fortune of a donation,” she said. “Are you certain that…”
“I am quite certain,” he said, putting a finger to his lips. “And I would prefer to keep my donation anonymous. There is no need to flaunt any donation. The important thing is that it helps the sweet children in your orphanage.”
The older woman beamed at him, embracing him to kiss him on the cheek.
“Bless you, my lord,” she said. “It will help more than you can possibly imagine.”
Gareth bowed, making the finger-to-lips gesture again as he stepped aside to allow the guests behind him pass. Then, he made his way into the pub, heading straight for the refreshment tables. There, he fetched the fullest glass of wine and turned to face the door. With his altruistic mission completed, all that was left was to wait for Lady Grace, whom he could not wait to see.
As he sipped his wine and waited, he took in his surroundings. He was familiar enough with the village pub, having visited it several times during trips to and from town. However, that evening, it had been transformed into a simple but enchanting ballroom. It was smaller than that which one would find in a nobleman’s mansion. "However, the floral garlands were equally resplendent and fragrant, the gildedcandlesticks assembled as ad hoc candelabras were polished to perfection, and the majestic palette of violet and argent remained as noble as ever. It was almost unrecognizable, and Gareth could not help admiring those responsible for the decorating and organizing of the event.
Gareth could almost feel when Lady Grace walked through the door. The air changed, but not because the conversations grew quieter and people began to turn toward the door. It was because she illuminated the room, as far as Gareth was concerned, and had never looked more beautiful than she did in her pale blue dress. His heart skipped and he abandoned the rest of his wine, studying her with pure awe. He took a deep breath, preparing to approach her as the musicians began preparing for the first dance set.
“Gareth, come,” his mother hissed, her lips appearing in his ear seemingly out of nowhere. “The first dance set is about to begin. Lady Cecilia waits for you.”
Gareth looked at his mother, shaking his head. But before he could protest, she narrowed her eyes, for only the briefest of seconds, before speaking again.
“Lady Cecilia shall not be kept waiting,” she said in a low, soft voice. “You will dance with her during the first set. I do not need to remind you of the importance of entertaining her interest in you. Treat her well and do as I ask, Gareth.”
