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To Steal a Duchess

Page 8

by Harriet Caves

Eloise mustered a smile for both Emily and Nancy, and then allowed herself to be tugged by Nancy toward the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom, tentatively eyeing up her reflection. She was not a vain person, and she did not entirely take joy in looking at herself in portraits or mirrors, but she spared a long look now.

Especially now, for she was to become a duchess today, and, with Emily’s help, she had to ensure not a single strand of hair was out of place.

Her honey-brown hair was pulled back at the sides, leaving her fringe loose over her forehead, just above her natural eyebrows. Only a few ringlets spilled over her shoulder, loose and free, threaded with ivory pearls. Her cheeks were dashed with a hint of blush, but otherwise, her eyes were alight enough to omit any other cosmetic for her face.

She felt… beautiful.

It was strange to think that, especially when it was only for a day that was merely a convenient arrangement, but she really did feel it. Instead of seeing her figure, so usually awkward and disproportionate in her own opinion, her body felt fitted for the dress.

It was simple but elegant, with folds down the long skirt, and a pleat-like belt along her hips that hugged her curves. The neckline dipped generously without being too audacious. It was complementary, and her shoulders looked delicate with the straps that adorned them.

“Emily,” Eloise spoke up softly, “may I have a moment of privacy with Lady Nancy?”

“Certainly, my lady.” Emily curtsied. “Just call for me if you require anything.”

She left the room once Eloise nodded her gratitude, and then Eloise was left to turn to Nancy, who was still decorating her vanity chair.

“It is Grecian,” Nancy noted, eyeing the gown, matter-of-fact. Her voice was filled with the knowledge she had. Her aunt was a seamstress in France who had married a musical composer, and the two of them had taken up a humble life. Nancy shared an interest in their way of life, and she had gathered a lot of skills from the couple.

“You know,” she went on, “such style of dress is designed for one’s curves. A lot of countries have modest fashion; take France, for example, who adore a lot of frills, volume, puffed sleeves, but Greece? Heavens, their fashion is most delectable. His Grace has chosen well for you.”

Her playful smile was enough to make Eloise blush as she ran a hand down her sides, feeling the soft fabric beneath her fingers.

“He has,” she agreed softly, taking in the white gown.

It was a far prettier, more admirable one than her previous one, which she had indeed been ordered for burning, as he had told her.

“You do know what this means, do you not?” Nancy’s brow lifted questioningly, and Eloise was a little scared of the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I am certain you will tell me regardless.”

“In my opinion, it means he has studied your figure enough to know such a dress will suit you.” Nancy paused, lifting a finger in thought. “Nay, it will accentuate your curves.”

Eloise was certain her cheeks did not need the blush added, for Nancy’s words made her flush enough at the thought of the Duke of Oldcliff taking enough notice.

No, she told herself, it is merely a lovely gown, and he would not want to be shown up by a future Duchess in terrible attire. He only wants me dressed the part, no matter how that looks.

But her fingers still trailed over the silk, letting herself believe Nancy’s words for a moment. Could it be true that he had seen something in her appearance? She did not let herself think such a thing, not when she had experienced too many failed Seasons, as her mother liked to label Eloise’s misfortune.

“Do not be silly, Nancy,” she laughed, trying to downplay the compliment. “I am certain he just wishes me to look the part.”

“Well, that is certainly true,” Nancy praised, giving her a scrutinizing once-over. “One thing is for sure is that no eye will be able to be turned away from you today. Do you not like it, the thought of attention? Eloise, you have waited years, even before your debut, for a perfect marriage. For somebody to see you.”

“Yes, but the duke knows nothing about me,” Eloise fussed. “He can see a lady, but he does not know me. I am worried, Nancy. I am worried that I am sending myself off into another dead end. And this—this is convenient. I have always wanted a different life for myself than the one I was raised on.”

“But he will know you.” Nancy’s smile turned wicked. “Oh, he definitely will.”

“Yes, but…” Eloise toyed at a curled strand of hair on the right side of her face. “He is not here to admire me or know me. This is merely an arrangement. He has rescued me from ruin, and I…”

She frowned, thinking of the duke’s teasing smirk as he told her not to worry herself about what he gained from the proposal. She shook her head.

“I am conflicted. I merely thought I would be freed from my marriage to Lord Sarling, but I did not expect this. I only wished for His Grace to stop that ceremony; I did not think he’d ask for anything in return.”

Nancy snorted, propping one arm over the back of the chair. “That is men, unfortunately. They do not deliver without requesting something in return. Surely you know this by now?”

“Call me naive,” Eloise muttered, dismissing her friend’s opinion.

She did not know the workings of men, nor did she care to learn. She had far more important things to care about, and she could only hope that the duke’s convenient proposal would mean he would not care about the interests she pursued, and would continue to do so when they were wed.