She told herself this wasn’t happening. It wouldn’t. Owen would change his mind. She would be forced to attend the ball alone, where she would either hide in the shadows or, like last time, gather the strength to smile and talk and laugh until everyone believed she was more than she actually was.
“At least the gown is pretty,” she muttered in her empty bedchamber while ignoring the heavy thumping of her heart.
It was her most beautiful gown. She hadn’t worn it since she had gotten married. Most of her dresses were fashioned two or three Seasons ago, aside from some she had fixed up for this Season, wanting to stay up to date with the current fashions. But then she’d seen the cut of her gown in a shop window and had decided to spoil herself. The right time had never seemed to come.
Until now. Oh bother, it sounds silly, doesn’t it? I mean, if it is so special, then I should have worn it for my wedding. It may be too much for this evening. No one wears such strong shades of green at balls.
“Here we are.” Jean came through the side door with a victorious smile as she held out some hairpins. “I knew you had them somewhere! They may not be emeralds, but I think the pearls will work perfectly.”
Georgiana bit her lip. “Are you certain it won’t be too much?”
“You’re attending a ball for the first time with your husband,” her maid reminded her. “This is your chance to make a statement. Not in words but in your appearance. Everyone will be watching you.”
I wish she didn’t have to remind me of that.
Georgiana’s smile was weak as she nodded. “I suppose so.”
Sitting back down, she folded her hands in her lap to try to steady her nerves. She let Jean play with her hair as she stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror.
I cannot believe this is actually happening. I didn’t think Owen would ever do this with me. Last night at supper, I was so anxious. I thought I was being too obvious.
Mrs. Helen had told her that her husband intended to join her for supper, and it had made Georgiana nervous. Then hopeful. And then nervous all over again. She didn’t remember eating a thing last night, only trying to stay composed in front of her husband.
They had been married for weeks, and yet she still didn’t know exactly where she fit next to him. It was maddening business.
“Here is your invitation, Your Grace,” she remembered Thomas telling her before supper as he’d laid the silver platter with a single card on it before her.
“My invitation?” Picking it up, she had unfolded it to find it was indeed an invitation to a ball. Marjory liked to use special folds for her mail, not wax seals. “What do you know that I don’t, Thomas?”
The footman had glanced about before confessing, “There were other invitations, but His Grace told me to only hand you this one.”
Georgiana had taken her mail and stomped all the way to Owen’s study, thinking he meant to control her. But she’d caught herself before flinging the doors open. She’d gone back to Thomas to have him recount his and Owen’s exchange.
By the time supper came around, Georgiana knew she needed to learn what her husband was up to. She couldn’t have been more surprised that he brought the invitation up before she did. It hadn’t been as difficult as she had expected to convince him to attend with her.
She had spent all night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if that was what Owen wanted all along—to attend the ball with her.
“Your Grace? Georgiana?”
“Hm? I’m here.”
Jean tutted. “Are you? I’ve been finished for a good three minutes, Your Grace, and I hardly think you’ve even taken a breath.”
Rising to her feet, Georgiana shook her head. “I’m only nervous.”
She worried she was even more nervous than she had been on her wedding day. At least she understood what happened at a wedding ceremony. But a ball with her husband? That was brand new to her. They hadn’t been out in public together before.
They’ll stare. They’ll point and they’ll whisper and they’ll wonder. I’ve forgotten all about those horrid rumors. Owen is nothing like what the ton makes him out to be. I know that now, but they don’t.
“Do you wish to stay home tonight?” Jean asked her softly.
“I mostly certainly do not.” Georgiana was surprised at how quickly her answer came.
She was nervous, but also thrilled. Owen was the one who had asked her about tonight. He was trying to make their marriage work. Now, she wanted to have a lovely evening and make him proud. She was dressed in her most beautiful gown. It was time they attended a wonderful ball.
Nodding, Jean tugged her gently toward the door. “Good, because Mrs. Helen was here a moment ago and said you had better hurry. His Grace is getting nervous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Georgiana scoffed. “Owen is never nervous.”
