The Foundling (Rags to Richmonds #3)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A delaide and Scarlett did better than to lend a gown; as soon as they learnt about the ball, they brought the best modiste in Buckingham on the twenty-two-mile round trip to Taverstock to measure Frederica in her own room, all with the purpose of minimising her time away from her duties. She did not see the finished piece until she arrived at Avonwyke on the morning of the ball. Adelaide’s home was farther away than Cedarvale, but going there first was essential, for Frederica could not dress herself for such a grand event without the assistance of her sisters’ maids. The gown was exquisite; pearly white satin with a green and gold embroidered drape, and a daringly low-cut bodice, perfectly complemented by Lady Tipton’s necklace. Never had she felt so ladylike—at last the equal of her sisters in elegance if not in beauty.

They travelled in two carriages to Cedarvale, the Kemertons and the Worthes in one, Oakley and Frederica in the other. It was not an overly long journey— just long enough for her to dwell on all the dances she had barely learnt, all the people she would not know, and all the ways she might embarrass her family or disappoint the duke. Just long enough for her to question, for the thousandth time, what it meant that Penrith had invited her at all. She was not used to feeling nervous, but then, she was not used to much beyond the well-honed routines of Taverstock. She felt uncommonly discomposed by the time they arrived and clung tightly to Oakley’s arm as they ascended the steps to the front door.

Their party was not the first to arrive. From the vestibule, Frederica could see that the hall which had seemed so vast and bright on her last visit was now teeming with people. More men and women than she had ever seen together in one place mingled about, their clothes and manners as ornate as the setting. Musicians played on a high gallery she had not noticed before, and at either side of the chamber, the doors stood open, revealing other rooms with more people.

“He said it would be a small gathering,” she said quietly.

Oakley chuckled. “That is exactly what Adelaide said to me the first time I took her to a ball.”

“Oh yes! Mr Hanson’s ball,” Adelaide said as she was relieved of her cloak by a footman. “I thought every person in London must be there, but I soon learnt it was a paltry little thing—much like its host. Still, this is a larger gathering than I was expecting, considering that we are in the country, and it is only spring. ”

“And he only had two weeks to arrange it,” Scarlett added.

“That makes no difference,” Kem remarked from behind them. “When a duke sends an invitation, it behoves a person to accept it, no matter where they are or what month it is.”

Once the party had handed over their wraps and coats, the butler announced them into the hall. Frederica felt excessively conscious when every person present seemed to stop what they were doing to stare in their direction. She ignored it as best she could—and forgot about it altogether when she saw Penrith striding towards them.

Her breath caught at the sight of him. He looked exceedingly well—as well as she had ever seen him, in fact. Perhaps because they had not been in company since he rode to Taverstock two weeks ago, she was more attuned to the change in him. The gauntness that had marred his looks when she first met him was gone without trace, removing the sharpness from his high cheekbones, giving strength to his jawline, and revealing an intrinsic beauty to his whole countenance. His distinctive dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight, and her heart lifted to see the increasingly common smile on his lips.

“You look quite remarkably well, Miss Richmond,” he said to her once he had greeted their whole party. “I am exceedingly pleased you are here.”

“I am sorry if we are later than you were anticipating. Kem and Worthe were sure we would be among the first to arrive.”

“I fear we underestimated the ton’s eagerness to see you returned to their clutches, Duke,” Worthe said amiably.

“It is not me they have come to see,” Penrith replied, looking meaningfully at Frederica. “It seems that a lost Richmond sister is the height of fashion these days.”

Frederica baulked. “They have come to see me ?”

“A good number of them seem to have, at any rate, although I could not tell you how anyone found out you would be here. Not that I would not have announced it with pride, but I rather thought you would prefer to maintain a less conspicuous presence at your first ball.”

“That would have been nice,” Frederica agreed anxiously.

“That is quite the mystery,” Oakley said stiffly. “None of us has told anyone either. We have been deliberately circumspect while Frederica has been deciding on her future.”

He did not elaborate, but his implication was clear: it would have been awkward indeed for them to have announced her discovery, only for her to eschew the connection and remain in work. It was nothing Frederica had not already concluded for herself—she knew, now, that she could not inhabit both worlds. Nevertheless, his admission of secrecy made her consider for the first time what detriment it would be to the family’s reputation were she to choose to remain at Taverstock.

“I hope it will not detract from your enjoyment of the evening?”

Frederica shook off her distraction and focused her gaze on the duke. He was looking at her with concern— and a hint of alarm, she thought. It was a timely reminder that this evening, his courage was dependent upon hers. They would have to be brave together.

“I shall not allow it to,” she told him firmly.

His smile flickered back to life, and he held out his arm for her. After encouraging nods from her sisters, Frederica took it and allowed him to lead her into the crowd. To her surprise, he evaded the first two groups of people in their path. When a third turned expectantly in their direction, only to be neatly sidestepped, she began to worry.

“You must not neglect your guests on my account. I am not so nervous that I cannot withstand a little attention.”

“No, but I might be,” he replied with a slight wince. “I thought perhaps we might both take solace in some less demanding company for a few minutes, before the evening really gets going.”

“Your children, you mean?” At his nod, she asked, “Are you allowed to disappear from your own ball once it has already begun?”

“Let us find out, shall we? But I daresay if everyone is gone when we come back, neither of us will be overly troubled.”

“True!” she replied, laughing.

He directed her to the refreshment table in the corner of the hall and took two glasses from the footman serving them, then said in a low voice something about a door. In the blink of an eye, the servant had opened a panel in the wall and the duke had ushered Frederica into a dimly lit service passage beyond it.

“I do not claim to know much about polished society, but this seems the sort of thing that would be frowned upon by our mothers, if either of us had one,” Frederica said.

“Good. It is too long since I did anything reckless.” He handed her one of the glasses. “You make me feel young again, Miss Richmond. I am not yet eight-and-twenty, but I had almost forgotten what it was like.”

Frederica could scarcely contain her pleasure to see him in such high spirits. He had been so unutterably sad but a few months ago—to see him enjoying himself, and to imagine herself as having had a part in it, was the most joyous feeling in the world. She took a sip from her glass, expecting wine, and was surprised to be greeted with bubbles. They tickled the back of her nose and made her grimace and shiver.

“Your first taste of champagne?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

Frederica hesitated, then admitted, “No,” and felt a surge of happiness when he gave a hearty laugh, set both glasses down on the ground, and tugged her along the passage by the hand.

His children were out of bed awaiting them when they reached the nursery. They rushed forwards, their arms outstretched in greeting as they called for their father and—to Frederica’s surprise and delight—her. She lowered herself to the floor, smiling merrily as the youngest child, Lord Felix, toddled his way up the length of her skirt to flop himself down in her lap.

“Sit here ,” he said definitively.

Lady Delphine, busy tracing the embroidery on the hem of Frederica’s drape with her finger, wished to know whether she was a princess, and Lord Ryde was interested chiefly in whether she had brought cake. Frederica managed to satisfy them all with a brief bedtime story—even Penrith, who watched with an expression of the purest contentment as his children listened attentively to her tale. Had anyone asked her at that moment whether she was enjoying her first ball, the answer would have been a resounding yes . Never mind the imposing grandeur of the nursery or the dozens of primped and starched aristocrats gathered below— this was a world in which she felt completely at home, in the company of children who wanted only for a mother’s love.

The blissful interlude did not last for long. The children were tired, and Penrith could not be absent from his own ball for too long. After kissing each of his children on the head in goodnight, he escorted Frederica out of the nursery and back to the ball via a staircase she had not seen before. The hubbub of voices and music reached them when they were still only halfway down, and Penrith immediately slowed his steps.

“Thank you for coming to see them,” he said. “You have quite won their hearts.”

“They are darlings. You must be exceedingly proud of them.”

She wondered whether he was thinking of their mother when he did not answer. She grew awkward, unsure what to say, and was taken wholly by surprise to feel his gentle touch. His hand brushed against hers, the contact seeming almost inadvertent at first but quickly becoming more deliberate—not quite holding her hand but entwining his fingers with hers in a gesture that felt reverent in its tenderness.

She had not yet summoned the courage to look at him when two gentlemen emerged through the open door at the foot of the stairs, their voices raised above the din of the crowded room behind them. They were followed by two ladies, then a footman, then what seemed to be a whole stream of people as the party spilled into this part of the house. None of them thought to look up, therefore none of them noticed their host, halfway down the stairs in a silent exchange of hearts with the Richmond orphan they were all apparently in such a rage to meet.

“Are you ready for the attention?” Penrith asked quietly.

“Are you?”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, his smile small but vastly affecting. “I am feeling better about it by the moment.”

And, indeed, Frederica could see none of his earlier disquiet in his eyes. Neither could she see any vestige of sadness. “Then yes, I am perfectly ready.”

He offered her his arm and together, they descended into the fray.