Beth through time, p.13
Beth Through Time, page 13
“Careful,” she said, rubbing her shoulder.
“I apologize, I did not mean to run into you like that.”
“What is wrong?” she started before glancing over my shoulder, understanding appearing in her large brown eyes. “Ah, the duke.”
I sighed. “What is he even doing here? And who is that woman he is with?”
Anne gazed at the unknown woman. The duke was holding out a glass of punch towards her, his eyes fixed on the red pendant hanging at her clavicle, the same color as her satin dress. “She looks familiar. But where do I recognize her from.” Anne tapped her index finger against her chin.
I hardly listened to Anne’s words; blood rushed to my ears seeing the duke’s attentiveness to that woman. She giggled and pulled out a fan, lifting it up slowly and waving it in front of her face, drawing the eye once more to her plentiful bosom and the large red pendant affixed above it. I had started to clench my teeth at the sight and had to relax my jaw once I noticed the twinge in my cheek muscles. Only a week ago it had been me that Edmund was laughing with.
Anne whispered in my ear. “I figured it out; that woman is Mary Chapman. I attended a ball with her last season.”
I pulled my eyes away from the duke and the woman next to him. “Mary Chapman?” I had never heard that name before.
“Yes, her father turned his profits from a shipping company into real estate and now owns a large portion of the property along the Thames, collecting rent and running places for room and board.”
“A merchant,” I mused. “I wonder why the duke is escorting her.”
“Money talks,” Anne said with a shrug. “Mary Chapman has an enormous dowry; all she lacks is a title.”
“And marrying a duke could certainly fix that.” I swallowed back a bit of extra vitriol. After all, it was not Mary’s fault that I was jealous. I did feel sorry for Anne; she was from a good family, but with no money left in their coffers, it was difficult for her to find a good marriage prospect. Not that it seemed to matter as much to her since she had met Willa.
Something else nagged at me, and I chewed my lip. “Why would the duke entertain Mary Chapman if she does not have a title? Could that mean that the duke might not care that I do not either?”
“Beth...”
“I know, it is over between us.” Peeking over at Edmund, I sighed. “I deceived him, and he has told me that we would be as strangers from now on. That does not stop me from thinking about him.”
A high and clear tinkling noise stopped most conversations. Everyone craned their necks towards the sound. Near the piano forte, Mr. Alcott stood tapping a spoon against his crystal glass.
“Welcome everyone this fine evening,” he hummed in a smooth baritone. Mr. Alcott extended his arm and pointed towards a slight wisp of a girl with curled brown hair sliding onto the piano bench. “Let me introduce my daughter Olivia. Please enjoy the refreshments while she plays.” Olivia kept her eyes downcast, not daring to make eye contact with anyone in the room. However, as soon as she splayed her long fingers across the keys her demeanor changed, as if the world around her disappeared, leaving behind only the music. I thought Rose was an excellent pianist, but when the first notes rang out beneath Olivia’s touch, I could have mistaken Rose’s skill for that of a beginner.
Next to me, Anne’s face brightened as her head swiveled back. I followed her gaze. Willa had entered the room and sneaked up behind us. She slid in between us and greeted Anne with a wide, toothy grin. Willa looked beautiful in a gauzy green dress that accentuated her soft curves.
“Given up on dressing down?” I joked.
Willa shrugged with a wink. “No need to, now that the situation with the duke has been resolved.”
I snorted when Willa twirled in her dress. “Your father must have been thrilled to see you off this evening.”
“Papa was happy to see me dress nicely.” Willa nodded with a wistful smile. “Though he kept asking what the occasion was.”
“Are you not worried he will find you another suitor?”
Willa’s smile widened. “I will deal with that when it happens. Now...” She grasped Anne’s hand first then also clasped mine before pulling us both away from the sideline. “Let us dance.” We joined up with other guests in the middle of the room.
Olivia had transitioned into an energetic Scottish reel so now we were skipping along the floor in time with the music, hooking elbows with each other before moving on to the next dance partner.
While dancing a turn, I noticed the duke still standing near the refreshment table, his head lowered towards Mary Chapman. For the moment, I was glad he had not joined the dance floor. It would be terribly awkward to dance in such close quarters with him. My face must have fallen because next thing I knew Willa hooked her arm with mine and swung me around.
“Forget him,” she said, her face lofty and self-assured. “Who wants to marry a duke anyway, terribly boring lot, you know.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes before flashing Willa a smile. “Is that right?”
“Of course, it is an established fact that if you are in possession of a title, you then have to be incredibly dull. Cause and effect; just look at my father,” Willa added, winking.
Anne overheard Willa’s words and smirked like a cat who had gotten cream. “Oh, so that is why I feel so tired whenever you are around.”
Willa looked at Anne in mock affront but her eyes sparkled with mirth. “I beg your pardon. It is only the men who are droll. Well...” Willa scrunched up her nose. “And the Duchess of Howe, and Viscountess Harriet, and... Alright, fine, you win this one,” Willa told Anne. “But I am excluding myself from the list; my personality is exemplary.”
Anne shook her head and laughed. “I will grant you that. There is never a dull moment whenever you are around.”
At the piano forte, Olivia transitioned into Robin Adair before Mr. Alcott opened up the floor for requests.
“Do we have any singers amongst us?” he said, smiling and glancing around the room. A girl stepped forward, her head bobbing with the weight of her scarfs and other hair adornments. She whispered something to Mr. Alcott and was ushered to stand next to the piano forte.
Once Olivia played the first notes, the girl started singing in a high, clear voice.
“Meet me by moonlight alone, and then I will tell you a tale. Must be told by the moonlight alone in the grove at the end of the vale—”
My attention was pulled away from the singing by an annoying giggling in the corner; Mary Chapman fawning over Edmund. What aggravated me even more was that he did not seem displeased by the attention.
“—You must come for I said I would show the night flowers their Queen Nay turn not away thy sweet head. This the loveliest ever was seen oh! Meet me by the moonlight alone.”
I only caught snippets of the lyrics as I watched Mary spill some of her punch down the front of her dress and Edmund pull a cream handkerchief from his pocket and pat at the wet stain on the woman’s bosom. Mary took the opportunity to thrust her breasts ever closer to his face.
Anne moved into my line of sight. “Ignore them.”
“How can I when that...that woman keeps flaunting her bosom in the duke’s face.”
Anne grabbed my wrist. “Come let us stand in the other corner and listen to the song. The girl is an accomplished singer.”
The change of position did not matter. The room was cozy; therefore, I was aware of everything the duke did—every simpering word, every smile, and laugh. I felt a stab in my heart every time I heard his throaty chuckle. How could he be courting Mary Chapman as if nothing had happened between us.
“Would anyone else like to have a go?” Mr. Alcott said.
I raised my hand. “I would like to go next.”
“Beth, what are you doing?” Anne hissed.
I was showing the duke what he was missing. I strutted towards the piano and planted myself next to Olivia.
“What would you like to sing?” the brunette asked. “I can play most popular tunes.”
“Do you know William and Susan?”
Olivia nodded. “Whenever you are ready.”
My singing might not have been of the same caliber as the previous girl, but I had a solid voice nonetheless. I steeled myself and sang the first verse, which was joined by the other spectators, in what I hoped appeared as confidence. Every so often I would glance in Edmund’s direction to see if he was paying attention, but Mary Chapman had molded herself to his side, and he was basking in the attention. The crowd clapped and sang along with the lyrics, but none of it mattered to me. I finished the song as evenly as I could and returned to Anne and Willa. Another singer joined Olivia; a burly man this time who burst into a favorite Scottish song.
“Do you mind if we go?” I looked at Anne, pleading. She seemed hesitant, most likely because she wanted to spend more time with Willa.
After moments pause, she said, “Of course.” She turned to Willa. “I apologize for leaving early, but I hope we can see each other again soon.”
18
Visiting The Duke Of Cashel
Seeing the duke at the dance with Mary Chapman had left a tightness in my stomach, part indigestion and part something I did not quite want to acknowledge. I knew that if I confessed it to Anne, she would say I was jealous. I sighed and flopped around on the mattress, pulling the cover over my face. Oh, who was I fooling? It was jealousy, plain and simple. The thought of Edmund on the arm of another woman left a sour taste in my mouth, and now I could not close my eyes without picturing him in a too familiar embrace with a simpering Mary. A peaceful sleep after the night's event promised to be elusive.
How difficult could it be to find the person you were meant to be with? My brother had found Rose; she practically fell into his lap. And William had traveled to the future with Austin. Why couldn't it be easy for me?
My mind raced back to my courtship with Mr. Danby. I could not always trust my own judgement; the past had proven that. While I had fashioned myself in love, he had turned out to be a crook only out for my dowry.
However, my situation with the duke was not the same; I was older and—I would like to think—a bit wiser. I was not going into this starry-eyed without understanding the consequences. There was not going to be another secret elopement. I wanted, no, I needed a chance to explain myself to the duke, to lay all my cards out on the table. And if he chose to spurn me? So be it. At least I would have been honest about my feelings, even if I needed to cry about it afterwards.
Regardless of the outcome, this sensation, this pull towards one another could not possibly be one-sided. His interest in me while I was still pretending to be Willa was clear, at least to me. I would be sorely mistaken if our mutual attraction turned out to be faked.
Tomorrow, I told myself, tomorrow I would go visit the duke.
***
My hands were clammy as I rode the carriage to the Duke of Cashel's London home. Anne, sitting primly beside me, squeezed one hand reassuringly.
While she disagreed with my plan to confess to Edmund, she still supported my decision.
“We are nearly there," she said, taking a peek out of the carriage window.
We stopped in front of a sprawling Palladian style house in the heart of the fashionable Mayfair district, the size of which could have fit the town house my brother was renting about thrice over.
A little flustered, I turned to Anne. "How do I look?"
She stifled a grin and brushed a stray hair away from my face. "Take a deep breath and calm yourself." Anne inhaled with me to calm my nerves.
The carriage driver opened the door. "Ready, misses?"
Anne nodded to the man. "Just a moment." She turned back to me, draped my ponytail, which had been curled into a corkscrew, over my right shoulder and smiled. "You look beautiful. Now, let us go and surprise the duke."
We scrambled out of the carriage and straightened ourselves. I had debated what to wear before eventually settling on my favorite; a cornflower blue dress which, according to Rose, brought out my eyes. I wondered briefly what Rose and my brother would say if they were aware that I was headed to the home of a duke uninvited, before I decided to raise my chin and barrel forward lest I would come to my senses and return home.
"Wait for me," Anne said, as she hurried to catch up. I strode decidedly up the steps of the large home and knocked on the door. After a few minutes, the door creaked open, revealing a well-groomed man in a butler's uniform.
"May I help you, miss?" the butler asked.
I scraped my throat before answering. "My friend, Anne Blakeley, and I came to call on the Duke of Cashel." Despite the relatively cool spring day, my cheeks burned.
"I am afraid the duke is not here," the butler said, his eyes scrutinizing us. My face fell a bit. I had been building up how the meeting with the duke might go. I imagined I would follow a butler into the duke's study, where he would be sitting behind his desk looking ever so serious, and I would confess to him, regardless of the consequences. However, in none of my imaginations had there been a scenario where the duke was away.
"When is the duke expected back?" I asked, showing a hint of urgency in the way I tumbled out the words.
"I would not presume to know, miss. If you have business with the duke, I recommend sending a letter to his estate in Ireland. He has chosen to remain there this season."
"What?" I said utterly confused. Next to me, Anne gasped, an incredulous expression plastered across her face. I must have been making the same ridiculous face.
"As I said," the butler continued, "The Duke of Cashel can be reached at his estate in Ireland.”
"The duke is not in London?" I asked to confirm once more. "The duke has not been in London the entire social season?"
"That is correct, miss." The butler nodded. "Now, if that is all, I shall return to my duties."
"Oh, yes, of course." I had inched forward to peek into the house, so now I shuffled back to give the butler the space to close the door.
"Good day to you," the butler said, leaving Anne and I perplexed on the front step.
Anne shook her head. "I do not know what to say. I...” Her words faltered.
I tried to think of an explanation, any scenario that would make sense. "Do you think the butler could be mistaken? Perhaps the duke is staying somewhere else?"
Anne scrunched up her face as she thought. "Why would he? And if he did, why would he not have sent word to his staff here? His butler was under the impression that the duke was in Ireland. It does not make any sense." Anne and I walked down the steps. She hesitated before spitting out, "What if the duke we have met was an impostor?"
"But he was in London to finalize an engagement with Willa; that surely cannot be faked." I pointed out. “How would he know who to target?”
Anne sighed and pursed her lips. "No, I suppose not, although... I remember the gossip from the night of the ball. I overheard Mrs. Devon and Mrs. Tulley chatting about the duke and what a good prospect he might make for their daughters. They mentioned that he was a bit of a recluse, rarely venturing away from his country estate. That, although he was reported to be handsome, hardly anyone had seen him in person. Both women were excited to see the duke in the flesh."
"Then, it might be easy to impersonate him," I said with a heaviness that echoed in my heart. What was the truth behind the man I had fallen in love with? Had I been deceived again? Perhaps I had learned nothing from my ordeal with Mr. Danby. "I am a fool," I bit out.
"You could not have known."
"I should have listened to you from the start. If I had followed your advice, none of this would have happened."
"He fooled everyone."
My throat constricted. Anne's soft-spoken words only made it harder to keep my eyes from tearing up. "I want to go home," I croaked out.
"Yes, we will return to the house and fetch you something to drink." Anne hailed a carriage back to the townhouse. We sat in silence during the return, the only sounds the creaking of the wood and the clattering of the wheels as they turned along the many cobblestone streets. My emotions were getting the better of me, and I was worried that if I spoke, I would not be able to hold back the flood of tears that were welling up inside of me.
Back at the home, Anne left me in the sitting room while she went to order some tea. I stood listlessly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do.
"Are you alright?" Rose walked up behind me. "Is something going on?" I was not certain why but as soon as I heard Rose's gentle voice, I could not hold the tears back any longer. Big fat drops spilled down my cheeks and blurred my vision.
"No, I am not," I heaved. Rose pulled me into a hug.
"Oh Beth, what's going on? You can tell me anything." She tightened her arms around me while I cried on her shoulder.
"I think I loved him," I confessed in between sobs.
Rose patted my back. "Loved who?"
"The duke... at least, I thought he was a duke."
"And now?" Rose tried her best to comfort me, but it was evident that she was confused by my words.
"I do not know." I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, tears soaking Rose’s shoulder. Anne entered, followed by a maid who carried a pot of tea. Rose motioned the maid towards the table before brushing my cheek.
"Come, let's sit down and rustle you up a cup of tea." She ushered me towards the settee and handed me a handkerchief. I blew my nose, which by now had turned a shade of bright red that rivaled that of a ripe tomato. "Here, let's get some liquids into you," Rose said, handing me a cup of fragrant amber liquid. I took a shaky sip of the tea. Once Rose saw I had calmed down a bit, she turned to Anne. "Now, perhaps one of you can explain what happened? I only managed to catch a few words."
Anne gaped at Rose, her eyes flashing to me while she fidgeted with a lace applique on her dress.
"I'm only worried," Rose pushed. "I'm sure John would be too if he'd seen your face earlier. What happened? Did someone do something? Perhaps if you'd tell us we could help?"
