“Grandmama managed it, as did the Duchess of Devonshire, Mama.”
“Yes, but their marriages were not great successes.”
Nellie had heard it said that her grandfather was a rake. But she doubted he was unfaithful because of her grandmother’s penchant for literary circles. She was more inclined to believe her grandmother had sought those interests to fill her empty life.
“It seems so unfair,” she murmured.
“Life isn’t always fair, Nellie. But we can try to make it better for our loved ones rather than embark on more worldly matters society is not yet ready to accept. A woman has the rewards of motherhood and charity work, too, my dear. That can be most satisfying.”
The door opened, and Alice’s head appeared, eyes wide.
“Come in and see how lovely Nellie looks, child,” Mama said. “We must go down soon.” She turned back to Nellie with warm approval. “When we enter the ballroom, the duke’s eyes will be upon you. Don’t forget to smile.”
Nellie nodded. Her mother had just poured cold water on her dreams. She feared her features were too stiff to smile.
*
Charles was pleased. He now had a challenging new stallion for his stables. And that ram would prove an excellent investment. As he chuckled with Marian over a political cartoon, they’d both seen in the Times, which had Napoleon riding backward on a donkey, a collective gasp spread through the ballroom as the butler announced Lord and Lady Dountry and their daughter. Charles’s blood heated, and all thoughts of horses and rams vanished. Nellie looked beautiful! With a shy smile, she walked through the room as a low buzz like a hive of hornets rose among the guests. Had his father been aware of how attractive she was when he’d insisted on this marriage? Charles was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. He met Marian’s observant green gaze, excused himself, and strode over to greet Nellie. The guests obligingly parted to allow him through.
“Lady Cornelia.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips, and for a moment, you could hear a pin drop.
Nellie smiled up at him. As it was required of him to marry and produce an heir, he was confident he could not have chosen better. Was it only days ago he had considered seeking a tactful means to end talk of an engagement?
“Your Grace, Nellie, will you join me?” Lord Dountry showed the way to the dais. Gathered before the guests, he cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming to share this auspicious occasion. Lady Dountry and I are delighted to announce the engagement of our daughter, Cornelia Elizabeth, to His Grace, Charles Anthony Glazebrook, Duke of Shewsbury! We welcome the duke into our family and wish every happiness for their future together.”
“The best kept secret in Keswick,” a male guest shouted. Laughter and loud clapping broke out from the three hundred guests gathered in the ballroom.
“The first dance is mine, I believe,” Charles murmured close to her ear, breathing in the perfumed scent of her skin.
They were soon surrounded by guests, kissing Nellie, and offering him their congratulations. When the country dance was called, Charles offered his arm and led Nellie onto the floor for the first set.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said as couples began to form, and they waited for the music to begin.
“Thank you.” She blushed becomingly and gave him her hand as they moved into the first figure.
“I claim the supper dance,” he said before the movements drew them apart.
She smiled and nodded.
The lead couple called the steps, and any conversation ceased until they came together again. But with everyone in proximity watching them, he said no more.
Dountry waited when they left the dance floor. “I should like to introduce you to friends here tonight, Shewsbury. If I may.” With a smile at his daughter, he drew Charles away.
Charles left Nellie to those waiting to speak to her.
When a quadrille was announced, Charles pushed through the crowd and claimed Marian.
Before the music began, Marian searched his eyes. “You might accuse me of sisterly devotion,” she said. “And you would be right. But Nellie is a wonderful girl, Your Grace. As you shall no doubt discover.”
“I have already,” he said before the orchestra struck up and they were caught in the movements of the dance.
Chapter Six
Nellie had to force herself to concentrate as she performed the steps of the quadrille with Lord Beauchamp. On the other side of the dance floor, Charles danced with her sister. She thought he moved gracefully for an athletic man. They turned, and for a brief moment, his gaze fused with hers from over her sister’s shoulder. Ellie’s hand trembled, causing Lord Beacham to glance at her.
Charles intrigued her, that was the trouble, and his masculinity drew her to him. He was handsome in his superbly tailored black and white evening clothes. To free her mind from speculation fueled by Marian’s colorful account of the marriage bed, which would have shocked their mother, Nellie attempted to settle her thoughts on prosaic matters. She couldn’t help being pleased for her mother that the ball was such a success. Once the possibility of a union between Nellie and Charles had become more likely, Mama had toiled for months planning every detail of this ball. Because of her efforts, the occasion would be talked about for months to come.
Many had come tonight with the expectation of seeing Nellie engaged to the duke. Laughter floated in the air along with the candle smoke. The long room, its twin chandeliers ablaze, had been transformed into a perfumed garden festooned with garlands and hot-house flowers. In their new liveries, which replaced their sadly faded garbs, footmen carried trays of champagne and lemonade among the guests.
What a disaster it might have been if, for some reason, she and Charles had decided not to marry. What if she’d hated him on sight? He would not have considered for one moment she might refuse him. A thrill ran down her
