Rowena and Betsy walked along Half Moon Street, when Betsy stopped outside a shop window and gazed at a gown displayed within. It was made of fine muslin material and sparkled as it was embroidered with pearls and shimmering lace. It was indeed fit for a wedding.
“This is the one, Rowena. The gown I told you about.” She stood and looked at it as if transfixed. “Isn’t it lovely? It is the dress I shall wear when you wed the Duke of Thornmouth. And with the salary I’ll receive from Lord Portsmouth, I shall be able to afford it without a problem.”
Rowena nodded, although there was a heaviness in her heart. Betsy’s new position as governess was to begin at once. To Rowena’s great sadness, Lord Portsmouth intended to move the family back to their Bedfortshire home long before the end of the Season and remain in London by himself. An arrangement Rowena found more than odd.
Alas, she could not help it. These were the conditions Betsy had been presented with and so it was to be. The two girls had decided to make the most of their time together and spent much of the previous week indulging in their favorite pastimes. They’d visited the menagerie; there they’d stopped to watch the tigers while eating candied fruit. They’d gone to the theater as well as taking many strolls through the various parks.
All the while, Betsy had found occasion to bring up Rowena’s impending wedding time and again. Much to Rowena’s chagrin. She found it difficult to muster the enthusiasm to match that of her mother, her sister, or Betsy. All of whom appeared extremely excited at the upcoming event.
She looked at the way her friend lovingly gazed upon the gown in the window, which she intended to wear for the wedding, and wished she could be half as excited about it. Yet, she felt nothing but dread. Especially since the meeting with the Duke of Westmond.
She sighed at the memory.
“Rowena,” Betsy exclaimed. “I have never seen you in such a miserable state. I thought for certain once you met the Duke of Thornmouth you would feel relief. By all accounts, he is a handsome and charming fellow. At least according to Lady Hazelshire and Lady Catherine. You have told me nothing whatsoever about him.”
There was an accusation in her voice that stung. She had attempted to get information about the evening from Rowena, but Rowena had been sure to reply only in short answer, and she’d certainly not mentioned the encounter with the Duke. She placed a hand on her friend’s back.
“I am sorry. I simply do not feel anything at all for him, thus I have not felt like talking about it. And the wedding fills me with dread.”
She paused and considered her friend’s kind face. They’d always told one another everything. Yet she had been keeping the secret of her newly discovered feelings from her. She’d not wanted to speak the words out loud for fear they’d make the feelings true.
But then, they are true, aren’t they? I can think of little else but him. Day and night.
She linked her arm under Betsy’s and walked with her down the sidewalk. Looking over her shoulder, she made sure she was not seen by anyone she knew, nor her words overheard.
When they found themselves alone on the sidewalk, Rowena dropped her voice to just above a whisper.
“At Catherine’s coming-out ball, I danced with a Duke. Not Duke Thornmouth. Another young man. I have not been able to think of much but him since.”
Betsy’s eyes grew large at this revelation.
“And you have kept this news from me for nearly a week? Rowena! Who is the young Duke? What do you mean you can think of nothing but him?”
“His name is Christopher Newmont. Duke of Westmond. He..”
She got no further for Betsy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape.
“The Duke of Westmond? The same one Lord Hazelshire has been speaking of, who’s to help with the vineyard? Owner of Summerwind Wines?”
Rowena nodded. “The very same. Papa invited him to the ball as a thank you for helping him with the business. As I understand it, he is eager to set him up with Catherine. You can imagine how much it would please Mama to have both of her daughter married to dukes.”
She was well aware that her voice was tinged in anger.
“And he is the one you have taken a shine to? Faith, Rowena you must tell me everything.”
Rowena exhaled and cleared her throat. “There is not much to tell, for it is all rather pointless. But very well. It was curious. I felt an odd tingle within my belly when first I set eyes on him. I cannot quite explain it. It was almost as if I already knew him.”
She thought back of that strange moment, that odd sensation. She would not admit it to Betsy nor anyone else, but she had that feeling still whenever she thought of him.
“He asked me for a dance. We agreed on the cotillion. He departed then as I waited for the Duke of Thornmouth. He was to be my dance partner for the minuet, yet he was delayed.”
Betsy frowned and raised a hand as if she were still in school. “If he was delayed, how did you grant him the minuet?”
Rowena rolled her shoulders until they gave a little cracking sound.
“Mama insisted upon using dance cards; it’s all the crack nowadays. And Papa all but made me reserve several dances for the Duke, based upon a conversation they had at the House of Lords. In any case, he was delayed. Thus, I did not have a dance partner for the first dance at my own sister’s coming-out ball.”
“Good heavens!” Betsy exclaimed, well aware of what a disaster it would have been.
