Page 64 of It's a British Christmas

Eve drew back and licked her lips. “I think it is not a good idea to dwell on that, Adam. We are from very different worlds. In fact, I don’t think I can even attend this ball, I—”

He tugged her to him and cupped her face. “Stop. You are an intelligent woman. You can do whatever it is you set your mind to. Mother has agreed to take you under her wing and help you prepare for the ball. She will make sure there are few missteps.”

The panic grew, and she moved back, wringing her hands. “But the ball is in only a few days. She will grow weary of my ignorance. I cannot possibly learn in such a short period of time what takes ladies of the ton all their lives to learn. She took a deep breath. “I must leave, I must—“

This time he silenced her with a kiss. All her worries melted with his arms around her, and his lips on hers. If she could have this for the rest of her life, perhaps it would be worth going through whatever trials await her.

Adam pulled back and smiled. “Have I told you how happy I am that you came? I appreciate how difficult this is for you. But please do not worry. Let me do the worrying. You will impress everyone who meets you, given enough time to get to know you. Mother may seem a hard taskmaster, but she has assured me if you are who I want, she will see that you are presented in a suitable way.”

She wasn’t at all sure the duchess would ever be willing to forego her desire to have Adam marry a woman of his class. For Adam’s sake, and the love she felt for him, she had to make a concerted effort to try.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t fall flat on her face at her first meeting with his mother.

CHAPTER 10

“No, dear, you must sit on the edge of the seat, with your back straight.” The duchess gracefully rested her bottom on the settee. “Like this.”

Eve chewed her lip and tried to imitate the woman, but years of doing everything the absolute correct way had molded Adam’s mother into ton perfection. Eve, on the other hand could not get her posture that rigid without straining all the muscles in her back. She tried and felt like a soldier awaiting inspection from his commanding officer.

“And do not chew your lip.”

Eve fought the tears that threatened to turn her into a watering pot and disgrace herself in front of the duchess. They had been practicing how to walk, how to curtsy—who knew there were depths to which a person dipped depending on the station of the person they were curtsying to—and the correct way to pour tea. Since Eve doubted very much if she would be a position to pour tea given she was here for only Christmas, and would not likely be entertaining anyone on her own, it seemed a waste of time.

The duchess did not think so when Eve brought that to her attention.

“If you plan to go about in Society, you must know all the nuances that make up a successful young lady. Had you been raised by ton standards you would have learned all of this once you left the nursery.”

Eve tried very hard not to sigh. She was a bumbling, inept, non-Quality person who had way too many things that needed to be done on a daily basis to worry about how straight she sat in a chair. She would never learn all of this and told Adam as much earlier in the day.

He patted her hand as they ate breakfast, assuring her that she would do just fine, and he was not at all concerned that she wouldn’t acquit herself well when the time came. He listened intently when she told him how the day before had been spent with his mother.

Hours had passed with the duchess and her modiste, attempting to pull together an acceptable wardrobe for Eve’s visit. By the time they’d finished, Eve had been pricked, pinned, positioned into awkward poses, and examined from every angle possible. She’d been quite tired when she joined Adam in the drawing room before dinner.

“She is trying to help. Just do not let her browbeat you. She can be somewhat forceful, but she means well.”

Remembering that conversation, Eve tried once more to walk across the room and sit as gracefully as the duchess had done. To her immense surprise, the duchess clapped her hands and smiled. “That was perfect, Eve.”

She couldn’t help beaming at her success. Then she wondered at the emptiness of these people’s lives that she had received accolades for correctly placing her arse on a chair.

“Now, I want you to remember that tonight we will be having guests for dinner.” The duchess waved her hand when Eve’s eyes grew wide. “Do not concern yourself. I will seat you directly across from me so you can follow my lead.”

She continued, ignoring the sweat that broke out on Eve’s forehead. “You will wear the peach silk gown that Mlle. LaRue altered for you today. I will make sure Robbins fixes your hair in a becoming style.” She reached across and patted her knee. “I suggest you take a short lie-down to calm yourself before Robbins readies your bath.”

Happy to be dismissed, Eve rose and hurried from the duchess’s morning room where they had been practicing walking and sitting. She rubbed her temples attempting to avoid the headache that hovered nearby.

Eve could not stop staring at herself in the mirror. Never a vain person, however, she acknowledged that the young lady staring back at her was beautiful. Her hair had been swept away from her face into a chignon of sorts at her nape. One curl had been left to dangle near her ear and rest on her bare shoulder.

The duchess had lent her a simple gold necklace with earrings to match.

But the piece de resistance was the lovely peach gown the modiste had altered for her. She had never owned anything so exquisite in her entire life. She felt like a queen, and certainly not like Miss Evelyn Allen, youngest daughter of the Reverend Joshua Allen.

Truth be known, she was concerned about the neckline showing a bit too much. The tops of her breasts were clearly on display, and she hoped they would not tumble out of the gown when she curtsied. Then she reminded herself that a proper curtsy did not involve bending forward but keeping her back straight. With the low cut gowns these women wore, it was no wonder they leaned to curtsy without bending.

So many things to remember, all of them jumbled in her mind, always with the sound of the duchess’s voice chiding her. Hopefully, she would not embarrass herself or the duchess this evening at dinner.

Just watch the duchess, and all will be well.

Robbins entered the room holding a fan in her hand, with a shawl draped over her arm. “My goodness, Miss Allen, you certainly look beautiful. I’m sure the duke will not be able to keep his eyes off you.”