“You’re notold.” But Madeleine complied, sitting up and turning her attention to the breakfast tray in front of her.
“The Duke of Westcourt,” Horatia mused. “At least you were able to meet someone interesting!”
“Oh, I met someone interesting, all right,” Madeleine said. “If only he’d just left me alone, Horatia! I didn’t ask him for his company.”
“The story I’ve been told is that he intervened when some other ladies were bothering you.”
“It was only Lady Cecily and some of her friends,” Madeleine said dismissively. “They really can’t do anything to me. They annoy me, but I can handle them. I would have stood there and listened to them talk, let them say whatever they wanted to say about me, and when they were finished, I would have been on my way, free and clear. I didn’t need the Duke to interrupt.”
“I know what will cheer you up,” Horatia said.
“Nothing could cheer me up.”
“Oh, yes, it could,” Horatia twinkled, and she left the room.
Madeleine sighed and poked at the breakfast on her tray. She was glad Uncle Joseph wasn’t angry with her, but what would happen now? They had planned for months for her coming out, and now she never wanted to attend another ball again. The whole thing was over as soon as it had begun.
She couldn’t help feeling that her parents were also looking down on her with disappointment. They would have expected more from her than what she had been able to give, and a part of her did feel a need to go to the next ball and prove that she was made of stronger stuff than this.
But she wasn’t.
No one would want anything to do with her after what had happened.
And perhaps that was for the best.
She tried not to believe what people said about her being cursed, but it was difficult. And it didn’t help when she’d had the whole of London society whispering about her last night.
What if there was some truth to it?
What if she did carry a curse? If she lost more people she loved, it would destroy her. So maybe it was for the best that she wouldn’t be given the choice of whether or not to marry. At least Uncle Joseph wouldn’t be able to say she was choosing wrong. At least she wouldn’t have to worry that her parents despised her for that. She had done the best she could, and she had simply failed. How angry could anybody be about that?
The door opened again. Horatia had returned, and she wasn’t alone.
“Sally!” Madeleine fell upon the big yellow dog, delighted. “Oh, Horatia, you were right. Sally always cheers me up.”
“You see? I knew you would feel better.” Horatia closed the door. “Sally’s been longing to see you, you know. She was so sad last night when you weren’t at home.”
“Well, you won’t need to worry aboutthatanymore,Sally,” Madeleine murmured. “There’ll be no more balls for me.”
“My Lady…tell me what it is about the events of last night that has you so distraught,” Horatia urged. “I know you. I can see that there’s something you haven’t yet confided in me about.”
Madeleine sighed. “You mustn’t tell anyone this,” she said. “I don’t want them to know.”
“You have my complete confidence, my lady.”
“Do you remember the time, four years ago, that a gentleman was stabbed here on the grounds? He told us his first name but not his title, and we never found out who he was.”
“I remember,” Horatia said. “You saved the gentleman’s life that evening.”
“Well, that gentleman was the Duke of Westcourt,” Madeleine said. “I knew it as soon as I saw his face last night. Even though it’s been years, I recognized him. I couldn’t believe it. It was the Duke whose life I saved all those years ago.”
“You’re jesting!”
“I’m not. I almost wish I was! I wish you could have seen how startled I was by it. I haven’t even told Uncle Joseph that it was the same man. I haven’t decided what to make of it.”
“Well—but this changes everything,” Horatia said.
“What do you mean? What does it change?”
