“My Lord,” Deborah greeted Lord Macaulay as Nicholas quietly slipped away in the background. “I am so glad that I ran into you.”
“Oh, I have been looking forward to speaking with you ever since I saw you descend the steps into the ballroom,” Lord Macaulay said, speaking to her much nicer than he ever had in the past. “I must say, you look like a vision in that dress.”
She smiled coyly, thinking to herself that men were all very predictable. All she had to do was doll herself up to match certain beauty standards and she had their undivided attention.
“Thank you, My Lord.” Deborah smiled.
“I am sure you will be subject to the attention of many gentlemen here tonight, so before they make their advances, can I ask you if you would like to dance with me?” Lord Macaulay asked, hastily.
“Yes, of course, My Lord. It would be my honor,” Deborah replied, feeling good by the attention that he was showering her with.
“Perfect,” he intoned, enthused as though he had just won a prize. “The first dance is about to begin soon. Shall we make our way over to the dance floor?”
“I will follow your lead, My Lord.”
As the two made their way over to the dance floor, Deborah noticed how a few gentlemen were eyeing her from the sidelines. She realized that she really did not care for the attention she was receiving, but it was true that dressing up had made her feel confident.
“I must say, we got off on the wrong foot on our first meeting. But I hope that we can be on more equal ground today,” Lord Macaulay stated as they began their dance.
Deborah took in the sight of the man in front of her. His movements were clumsy, and despite them only having begun dancing, he had already stepped on her foot twice.
“I am sure today will be much better,” she said, a hint of sarcasm coloring her tone. She knew fully well that she never intended on seeing this man ever again.
“Did you pay more heed to what I had told you the night before?” he asked. “Your brother speaks of you highly and says that you are a very intelligent woman. I am sure that you must have come to your senses by now.”
“My senses?” Deborah repeated, seeming perplexed. “I am not sure if I follow you, My Lord. What advice are you speaking of?”
Lord Macaulay seemed offended that his words hadn’t been gospel for Deborah. He pursed his lips together. “Of course, my advice on your silly little writing hobby,” he said.
Suddenly, the fake smile that Deborah had been maintaining this entire time was wiped off her lips. She knew that she had to pretend to like him for the night, but this was going too far.
She knew that if she opened her mouth to speak now, it would turn into an argument. So, instead, she just swallowed her pride for the sake of appearing happy and simply remained quiet.
Not surprisingly, Lord Macaulay saw that as a positive gesture.
“Good,” he said, gloating now. “I knew that a woman as beautiful as you would not be so stubborn. After all, a woman’s responsibility after marriage is to please her husband.”
Deborah felt as though she would throw up any moment if she listened to him any longer. Still maintaining her strategy of remaining quiet, her eyes darted around the room.
At the beginning of their dance, she had spotted the Duke with Joanna. A large part of her hoped that she had caught his attention, though she dared not look in his direction to confirm.
Instead, she let out a loud laugh to nothing in particular. She wanted to give off the impression that she was having a great time with Lord Macaulay, even though the reality could not be any more different.
“What is so funny, My Lady?” her dancing partner asked, seeming irked. “Must you laugh so loudly? It is hardly necessary.”
Deborah wanted to roll her eyes. Of course, he found her laughter annoying.
“Oh, nothing, My Lord.” She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “It is just the things you say.”
* * *
The Duke had arrived the ball exactly on time, dressed in his best three-piece suit, with Joanna by his side.
After the disastrous meeting they had had yesterday, he felt as though he needed to do something to revive their connection.
Or rather, create a connection. There was not much to revive between the two of them.
He noticed that Joanna appeared to be quite distracted. She appeared to have a giddy smile on her face as she scanned the crowd for someone.
