Chapter Thirteen
Evening
Valentina’s head poked out of the open carriage door and glanced about a Grosvenor Square gone dusky with encroaching night.
Happy violin music swept across her, alongside the chatter of a hundred or so guests. Her gaze lifted up and up and up the Duke and Duchess of Ripon’s mansion with its Palladian colonnade of white pillars framing front doors flung wide to arriving guests.
So, this was a duke’s London residence.
A sense of who the Windermeres were within London Society was only now beginning to sink in. They were wild and kind, but they held immense wealth and power, too.
Behind Delilah and Juliet, Valentina took the hand of an impassive footman and descended to cobblestones that glistened from a recent wash. Apparently, dukes cleaned, and possibly polished, their cobblestones—well, they had others do it, of course.
As she ascended front steps lit by opposing rows of candelabras, she reminded herself to breathe, even as her palms threatened to perspire through her borrowed white satin gloves. It was all simply so grand and opulent and overwhelming. Bouquets and boughs of summer roses invited guests inside with their fragrance.
Just inside the door, a servant offered to take her evening cape—rather, Juliet’s—leaving Valentina clad in an evening gown of coralsilk, shaped to her every curve. Her shoulders had never been so bare in public. She’d protested that the ensemble was too fine, but Juliet had insisted that it was perfect for her and wouldn’t hear of having it returned.
But now, standing inside a duke’s mansion, nerves jangling through her, Valentina was glad for the dress. Without it, she would have stood out as an oddity. Everyone around her—lords and ladies, earls and countesses, dukes and duchesses, kings and queens for all she knew—was decked out in their finest silks and most sparkling jewels.
Delilah tossed a questioning glance over her shoulder as they stood in the receiving line, awaiting their turn to be greeted by the Duke and Duchess.
Valentina smiled—though it may have wobbled a bit—and nodded.
“How are you faring?” asked Delilah, a spark of concern in her eyes. “I know they’re a duke and duchess, but really, it’s only Tristan and Amelia. She’ll try to mother you—don’t let her—and he might grunt at you. A man of few words, to say the least.”
Juliet reached over and gave Valentina’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. She was most grateful for Delilah and Juliet. She was also thankful that she wasn’t expected to speak for the entire night, which shouldn’t be an issue as Delilah and Juliet had volunteered to steer her clear of all Italians who might be in attendance. Delilah had said it would be a lark.
The Windermeres and their larks.
Apparently, they’d spent several months in Italy, riding out a scandal that had something to do with Delilah, Archie, and Eton College. They’d been fuzzy on the details, though Delilah had grumbled something about Ravensworth beneath her breath. Not that Valentina had any idea who or what a Ravensworth was.
The line before Valentina suddenly cleared, and Delilah and Juliet were to either side of her, each taking an arm and walking herforward. In a few short steps, they stood before a man and woman—he massive and handsome and she tall and possessed of the signature Windermere blonde gorgeousness. Without a doubt the Duke and Duchess of Ripon.
A more gorgeous couple Valentina had never seen. And judging by the bump in the Duchess’s dress, it appeared they would be adding a gorgeous child to their family in the coming months.
“Contessa,” said Delilah with a wink, “meet the Duke and Duchess of Ripon.”
Valentina dipped into a shallow curtsy. Or what passed for one, she supposed. She’d never been required to curtsy in all her life. Of course, she’d never met such personages in all her life who would require a curtsy. Small, but important distinction.
The Duke nodded and… Was that a grunt?
The Duchess stepped forward and took one of Valentina’s hands with a welcoming smile. “I hear you’re to sing for us tonight,Contessa,” she said. She didn’t wink like Delilah, but a twinkle certainly shone in her eyes.
“Si,” said Valentina, clutching the handle of her bag tighter. Instead of carrying a dainty reticule like all the other ladies in attendance, she carried a folio case filled with sheet music.
Earlier this evening, when Delilah and Juliet had been helping her get ready, Delilah had asked where she’d met Archie. In a moment of distraction—for Tucker had become quite intent on wrangling the delicate silk bodice higher above her too-bounteous bosom, having, at last, to settle for a fichu for modesty—Valentina said, “The Five Graces.”
A look passed between Delilah and Juliet. A look that said she’d just confirmed their suspicions. “So, it wasyou,” said Delilah.
“Me?”
“Who we’ve heard singing in the night,” saidJuliet.
Ah.“Erm, yes.”
Delilah clapped with delight. “You must sing at the musicale tonight.”
“Why?”
