"They think I'm your mistress."
"They think you're my guest."
"Your unmarried female guest who needs a ball gown immediately."
"My future duchess who needs appropriate attire for her introduction to society."
"You can't tell them that!"
"I can tell them whatever I like. It's one of the few advantages of being a duke."
The housekeeper, Mrs. Hemsley, approached with a professional smile. "Mrs. Whitby, shall I show you to your room? You must be tired from the journey."
"Thank you," Marianne managed, grateful for the woman's kindness.
The blue room was more luxurious than anything Marianne had ever seen—silk wallpaper, velvet drapes, a bed that could fit her entire family.
"This is too much," she said when Alaric appeared in the doorway.
"This is actually one of the simpler rooms."
"Then your complex rooms must be terrifying."
"My room is right next door if you need anything."
"What I need is to wake up and discover this was all a dream and I'm actually still in the bakery covered in flour."
"Would you prefer that?"
"No," she admitted. "I want to be here with you. I'm just terrified I'll do something wrong and ruin everything."
"Impossible."
"I could trip on my dress."
"I'll catch you."
"I could use the wrong fork."
"I'll hand you the right one."
"I could accidentally insult someone important."
"Then they probably deserved it."
Before Marianne could catalog more potential disasters, there was a commotion in the hallway; raised voices speaking rapid French.
"That would be Madame Laurent," Alaric said with amusement. "Brace yourself."
The door burst open and a tiny woman dressed entirely in black swept in, followed by three assistants carrying fabric samples, measuring tapes, and what appeared to be an entire sewing kit.
"Your Grace!" she exclaimed in accented English. "Such short notice! Such impossibility! I love it!" She turned toMarianne, circling her with sharp eyes. "And this is the baker who has captured the uncapturable duke?"
"I...how did you..."
"Gossip travels faster than your carriage, my dear. Half of London knows the Duke of Wexmere is bringing someone to the Winterbourne Ball. The other half is speculating wildly about who." She continued her circling. "Good bones. Excellent posture. Beautiful coloring. We can work with this."
"Work with this?" Marianne repeated, offended.
