***
Isabella exchanged a shy smile with Clara as they climbed the stairs, but she said nothing. She knew that her mother would be keen for her to start getting ready for the ball tonight. She had to look perfect, ready to captivate the duke.
Her heart sank a little at the thought of it. Somehow, she could not get excited about the Duke of Harbridge. But she knew she must go through the motions to please her mother if nothing else.
She knew she could trust Clara not to reveal her secret meeting with the mysterious gentleman in the library. Her maid would not tell anyone, and she was relieved at that; of course, it was not proper for her to be alone with him, whoever he was.
She cursed herself inwardly for not asking his name. But he must be a guest at the party, so surely she would see him tonight?
She and Clara set about the preparations for the evening, and Isabella glanced at the fine silk gown hanging up ready for her to wear. She was glad, now, that she had taken so much trouble in choosing the fabric and agreeing with the dressmaker the exact cut to flatter her figure.
She did not care much about what the Duke of Harbridge thought of her, but she hoped that if the mysterious man from the library was present at the ball tonight, he would look at her and like what he saw.
Chapter 5
Isabella felt a flurry of nerves as she walked downstairs. She had spent over an hour in her chamber with Clara, preparing herself for the evening ahead, and she did not think they could have done a better job.
Her gown was perfect, and she was happy, as always, with the way Clara had arranged her hair, pinned up in a neat twist at the top of her head, revealing her long neck. Clara had left a couple of ringlets hanging down to frame her face, and even Isabella had to admit that the effect was rather pleasing.
Her mother was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.
“You look quite splendid, my dear,” Eleanor said, smiling at her daughter.
Isabella could see the hope in her mother’s eyes. Clearly, she thought that this week, during the house party, there would be some significant events in Isabella’s life. Her mother was expecting her to find a husband, plain and simple before Christmas night was over, and she was expecting that husband to represent a grand and impressive match, both for Isabella’s benefit and that of her family. The pressure on her felt too much all of a sudden.
She felt a flurry of anxiety in her chest. As far as her parents were concerned, the Duke of Harbridge was to be the man. But what if she did not like him? She had a sneaking suspicion in her gut that she would not feel for him what she had always hoped she would feel for the man she was going to marry. But would her parents then pressure her to accept his hand anyway?
On paper, it was a good match, of course. A duke marrying an earl’s daughter was just what everyone would expect. But she could not allow herself to see marriage that way. She knew, in her heart, that she wanted more. She wanted to find her soulmate. But perhaps it was just a childish fantasy.
She forced a smile in response to her mother’s compliment. “Thank you, Mother. I think Clara has done a good job, don’t you?”
Eleanor smiled. “Of course she has, but she had your beauty on her side to start with.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I hope you are looking forward to seeing the duke. Your father said that he has already mentioned how excited he is to see you again when they were talking together with the other gentlemen earlier this afternoon.”
Isabella forced herself to smile in response. “Of course, Mother.”
“And you will join us in the receiving line, of course,” Eleanor said. “The guests are arriving now. Come along, we must go and stand with your father at the entrance to the ballroom.”
Isabella swallowed down her nerves and followed her mother through the house. Outside the ballroom, her father was waiting, dressed in his immaculate evening wear.
“Isabella, dear, you look divine!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “Come, you must stand next to me. The guests will start entering the ballroom any minute now.”
Isabella stood between her parents, preparing herself for what was to come, probably up to half an hour of standing, smiling, and greeting some of the hundreds of guests coming to the famous Evermere Christmas ball. Not all of them would remain for the house party, of course; that was to be a far more intimate gathering.
But many of them would return in a few days’ time for her parents’ Christmas Eve party. The opulence of the Season was quite spectacular, and Isabella felt anxious about everything that was to happen over the coming days. The festivities would be enjoyable, she was sure, but she hoped that in the midst of it all, she might find some time to be by herself.
Her mind kept wandering, too, to the mysterious gentleman she had met in the library. Once again, she wished that she had asked him his name. But surely he must be a guest at the ball and possibly even at the house party.
She should have paid more attention when her mother was telling her the names of all the guests staying with them during the lead-up to Christmas, but it was too late for that now. All she could do was wait and see if he appeared. She felt a flurry of excitement in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again.
As the guests began to arrive and proceed along the receiving line, she scanned the faces of each one to see if it was him. But each time, she was disappointed. She felt a sense of despair creeping in; what if he had left the estate for some reason and was not coming to the ball? Then she would never see him again and would not even have learnt his name! The thought of it was almost too much to bear; her desire to see him again was so strong.
Before she could allow herself to become further carried away with her thoughts, though, she saw the Duke of Harbridge approaching. She immediately recognized him: tall, handsome, with piercing blue eyes.
“Here he is!” Eleanor whispered.
Isabella resisted the urge to glare at her mother for her lack of subtlety and instead forced herself to put her best smile on her face as she prepared to greet the duke.
“Your Grace, what a pleasure it is to welcome you here to Evermere,” George said, reaching out and taking the duke’s hand, then shaking it rather robustly.
