“Yes!” Anne agreed with her, a feat so rare that it made Nancy understand the severity of their request. “Our new house is wonderful! Mama and I love the garden, and there is a sunroom that is always so warm during the day, and Beatrice loves to paint in that one. Please visit us so that we can show you around. We’ve missed you so much, Sister. Or… wait, do we have to call you ‘Your Grace’ now?”
Nancy giggled. “No, you do not. I’m still your sister, regardless of who I married or what my title is. I am still your Nancy.”
“Our Nancy.” Anne grinned. “I like that.”
“As do I,” Beatrice concurred.
“Our Nancy looks breathtaking today,” their mother spoke softly, her eyes brimming with pride as she marveled at Nancy’s dress.
It had been one of the details of the ball Nancy had painstakingly arranged. The modiste had been summoned to the estate, and Nancy had sat down with her to expressly state what she desired to be made for her.
She had not forgotten what had been weighing down on her shoulders, how important it was to gain the Duke’s favor for the sake of her family’s livelihood. But now, with the ball, she also needed to look like the prime example of a perfect duchess, not just for her family’s sake but also for her husband’s.
Such feelings intensified when she recalled how he had expressed that he knew the ton viewed him as nothing more than a joke, incomparable to his late older brother, despite all the effort he was putting into being a good duke.
She wanted to show that even though they did not have any faith in him, she did. Her husband had been good to her. Things were uncertain between them, but he had shown her family kindness, and that was more than enough for her.
“You look precisely like a duchess,” her mother added, making her heart swell.
Nancy had chosen lilac fabric for her dress, the soft material flowing around her as she walked around, with a bodice that gleamed brightly, thanks to the countless gemstones that had been affixed to it.
Paula had been especially thrilled to do her hair for the ball, letting her blonde strands cascade down her shoulders in soft, light waves, on top of which rested a gorgeous diamond tiara. Mrs. Silverstone had delivered it to her before she had begun to prepare for the ball, stating that it had belonged to the former Duchess.
“It is yours now, Your Grace,” she had said kindly, holding out the box to Nancy.
“Thank you, Mama.” Nancy smiled at her mother now. “I certainly feel like one.”
The Dowager Marchioness warmly held onto Nancy’s hands, speaking softly, “You have made me really proud, Nancy. You might not fully understand just how much, but let me tell you that you have greatly helped us. All that is left is for you to secure our finances as well, and everything will be fine.”
Nancy squeezed her mother’s hands reassuringly. “Do not worry, Mama. I will handle it. We will be all right in due time.”
Lady Suttington nodded then glanced around the ballroom, her expression turning slightly wary as she took in the masses that filled up the space. “I have not seen your husband yet. I would like to thank him in person.”
Nancy ignored the heat flooding her cheeks at the mention of her husband. Unsurprisingly, they had yet to really speak to each other since the night they had…been intimate in his study. Just thinking about him left her feeling hot and bothered, cravingmore.
She had ached to converse with someone about it, wishing she had friends to write to or that there was more of an opportunity to speak to either the housekeeper or Paula, but she had ultimately kept her overwhelming feelings to herself because they had been busy with the preparations for the ball.
“I suppose he is busy greeting some of the guests. I will have to join him soon, so we might do it together,” Nancy replied vacantly, also glancing around in search of Richard. “I’d be happy to relay your gratitude.”
But the Dowager Marchioness shook her head. “The honorable thing would be to tell him in person.” She furrowed her brow in concern moments later. “Is something wrong? Are you having issues in your marriage?”
“What? No, Mama?—”
For a moment, Nancy thought of telling her mother. She ached to share her worries, to ask her mother for some advice—after all, her parents’ marriage had been the very one that fueled all of her dreams of a love match. Dreams she had to abandon when she married Richard for the sake of her family’s survival.
And suddenly, she realized that she could not just… tell her mother of her marital situation, not when so much depended on her being the perfect wife. Not to mention, this was neither the time nor the place to make such a grave admission.
“We are fine, Mama. Do not worry,” she said, feeling a little guilty for her lying.
“Are you sure? He is a man—men have a variety of needs that should be addressed and satisfied as quickly as possible. Have you been attentive towards him? I’ve heard more about that dog than I have about your husband tonight, my dear.”
Nancy stiffened, wanting to complain that surely, it should be saying something that she was more willing to talk about Dash than her marriage, but she was also hurt that her mother was barely enquiring about her well-being either.
“I am doing my best, Mama?—”
“That might not be enough, Nancy. Do not forget what is at stake, how much we have lost and how troubled we would be without his generosity,” her mother pressed.
“It is a little hard to forget that detail—not when you bring it up every other moment,” Nancy snapped, immediately feeling bad as the words left her mouth, glancing nervously at the guests who looked in their direction.
