Liberty knew they loved each other, and that her parents’ marriage was a happy one, but that was not always the case in society.
“So to help you along, we have decided to host a ball, and all the eligible men will be there.”
“Why will hosting a ball help me along this season when the hundreds of society events I have already attended haven’t?”
“Yes, well, your mother and I have decided to help you with that also,” her father said calmly.
Liberty stared at him. “Exactly how are you both going to help me?”
“This afternoon I have someone coming to meet with you,” her mother said, looking like she’d eaten something off now. “Someone who will help you toward our goal.”
“Of marriage?” Edward asked, as confused as Liberty now.
“Mrs. Battlemore is paying you a call.”
“Dear Lord, tell me it isn’t so,” Liberty whispered. “She dresses the season’s debutantes, and has a fierce reputation for sticking pins into people, mother. Surely, the gowns we get from Madam Claudine are fine?”
“Yes, well, it seems something is not working—”
“I am a duke’s daughter,” Liberty snapped, which had her mother wincing. “Apparently, I am tolerable to look at, if a little long in the tooth. My dowry is surely adequate?” Her father nodded when she looked at him. “I do not need assistance from Mrs. Battlemore.”
“She will simply change your style slightly. Annabelle said she did wonders for both Penny and Sybil,” her mother added.
“Penny and Sybil are young debutantes. I am not, as I believe I have already noted,” Liberty gritted out.
“It is done, and you will meet with her here today,” her mother added. “Isn’t that right?” She looked at her husband, who quickly nodded his support of her comments. “I also think you need to try harder to mingle, Liberty. You cannot simply spend the evening with Alice.”
The silence following these words was deafening. Edward shot her a look, but Liberty kept her eyes on her mother.
“You cannot be serious,” she said. “It is a miracle that I have not fallen over more, as I cannot see my bloody peers, because you forbid me to wear my eyeglasses!”
“It is not right that you wear them in a social situation,” her mother said, lips in a tight line. “And don’t curse, it is unbecoming.”
“So I stumble about, unsure who I am speaking with and appear half-witted,” Liberty said with remarkable restraint. “Because it is not right?”
“Now, Liberty—”
“Don’t younow Libertyme,” she cut her father off. “Do you know that most evenings I stay in the same place, and barely speak because I am terrified of walking into someone.”
“Now, now, your mother knows best, daughter.”
“Father, you can’t be serious?”
“Liberty, your mother and I love you very much, but we want you settled and happy.”
“I am happy.”
“Are you really?” her mother asked.
“Yes.”
“You will be happier running your own household,” her father said.
“Just meet with Mrs. Battlemore, Liberty,” her mother said. “You can work on the designs together.”
“I can’t see the bloody designs!”
“No need for such language,” her mother tutted. “And of course you can wear your glasses around Mrs. Battlemore.”
