“No,” Simon replied, wanting to avoid a conversation about his rake brother.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “One of the maids told me that you had a visitor, and that it was a family member. You should have invited me, at least.”
Simon pressed his lips together. “There was no need for you to be there.”
“But I am your wife,” she reminded him softly.
He was reminded of the conversation that he had overheard yesterday, and felt guilt springing up inside him. But right now — given how he annoyed already was — adding guilt to it would likely tip him over the edge.
It was best to push those feelings away.
“How was the meeting with the nursemaid?”
Harriet took a step back. “It was… well, it went better than I expected.”
“Is she up to your expectations?” he questioned.
“She’s exceeded them, in fact.”
“I see.”
A small silence settled over them, and Simon found himself wanting to reach out and touch her. His hand twitched slightly, but he controlled himself.
Simon wanted to ask her about what she had been telling the nursemaid earlier, but stopped himself. “Tonight, we have to attend the ball. Make sure that you are ready on time.”
With that, he exited into his study, finally having a peaceful moment on his own.
“This one, Your Grace,” Eliza said, lifting a deep burgundy gown with delicate lace trim. “It would suit you perfectly, and the color is rich without being too bold. Perfect for a duchess making her grand appearance.”
A dull nervousness unfolded inside of Harriet. She was in preparation for the ball later this evening, tucked away behind the thin curtains of her dressing room with her most trusted maid, Eliza.
Around her lay an array of gowns, ribbons, and jewelry. The room had significant traffic, as her maids kept popping in and out to see if the duchess required anything.
Eliza bustled around her, holding up different fabrics to Harriet’s frame.
Harriet bit her lip, considering. “Do you think it’s too dark, Eliza? I don’t want to seem… severe.”
Eliza smiled reassuringly, setting the gown down to adjust the bodice. “Not at all, Your Grace. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. The burgundy will make your skin glow and bring out the depth of your eyes. It’s a color of confidence, but with the lace, it’s also soft and elegant. You’ll be the perfect combination of both.”
“I suppose you’re right. I do want to make a good impression.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Eliza agreed, her hands deftly working to smooth out the gown’s fabric. “And it’s not just about making an impression. This is your first appearance with the duke. It’s important that everyone sees you for who you are — a woman of grace and strength. You’ve had enough time to be in the shadows. Tonight, you’ll be the star of the evening.”
Star of the evening.
Somehow, that did not do anything to ease Harriet’s nervousness.
Eliza helped Harriet slip into her dress. It was form-fitting in a way that accentuated her already slender figure. The bodice pushed her chest up, revealing more of her cleavage than she ever had before.
Dressing up like this… it was new to Harriet. But she was going to try her hardest to look the best that she could.
“Now, let’s see about your hair…”
Harriet turned to the mirror, watching as Eliza began to arrange her hair. A question gnawed inside of her.
“Do you think… do you think he’ll notice?”
Eliza paused for a moment, meeting Harriet’s gaze in the mirror. “The duke, Your Grace?”
