“Hugh,” she said again, this time folding her arms. “What is on your mind? And do not lie to me. I think we both know how hopeless you are at lying.”
The young boy grimaced with embarrassment as he came to a stop. Standing at the back of the garden, he looked beyond where Yvette stood, back toward the manor, specifically at the window that peered into his father’s office. His dark eyes squinted as he watched the office window, and his jaw tightened.
“I… like him well,” Hugh started cautiously, weighing up each word spoken. “And he is kind and good to me. Better than I deserve.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “You deserve everything you get, Hugh.”
“Maybe.” He looked away from the window and kicked at the path. “Please, do not tell him this bu – but I have been thinking about us lately. I… I like him, as I said. I am also so gr -- grateful for everything that he has done.”
“Yes…”
Hugh looked at Yvette, and his eyes glistened as if from withheld tears. “But he is not my father.”
She balked. “What?”
He winced. “I mean, he is. I know that he is. Only… it does n -- not feel like it. It is st -- stupid, probably. I don’t even know what…” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “When we are together, it does not feel how I thought it would.”
“And how should it feel?”
“I do – do – don’t know.” He sounded angry at the notion. “It just doesn’t, is all.”
Yvette had no idea what to say to that.
I wish I could tell him that he is wrong, or that those feelings would come. But what do I know of such things? And what does the Duke know of them, too?
She spent the rest of the morning with Hugh, doing her best to keep his mood level, while sensing the doubt that plagued him. All she wanted was to make Hugh feel better and to assure him that those feelings would change as they grew closer together, but she also did not want to lie to the poor boy.
The Duke was good to Hugh. He was kind. He was warm. He was also eager to be the father that he had not been for the first eight years of Hugh’s life. But was it enough? And if not, what could he do that was different?
Needless to say, when Yvette retired to her room shortly before lunch, she was as confused as ever. So confused, in fact, that when she walked into her room and saw a stunning gown lying on her bed, she started at the sight, thinking that she had wandered into the wrong room.
“What on earth…”
The gown was like something out of a dream. Its color was somewhere between blue and silver, and with the way it caught the light, it shimmered like the purest of waters in a deep blue pond. The stitching was silver also, while the filigree pattern that swirled up the dress was golden and spread like autumn leaves in full bloom.
Yvette hesitated when she saw the gown. It was her room, of that there was no doubt, but what was such a perfect gown doing on her bed?
She looked around the room quickly, half expecting someone to appear and tell her that a terrible mistake had been made. Of course, there was no one, and when she took a step closer to her bed, she spied a note beside the gown.
For tonight, just in case your other dresses don’t fit you…
A smile touched her lips. She picked up the note, read the simple message again, and it was as if a fire spread from that single piece of parchment and through her limbs until it wrapped around her heart.
In all the excitement, Yvette had not seriously considered what she would wear to the ball. In truth, a part of her was prepared for something to happen that would cancel the evening. Her invitation was made in haste; it had not seemed real, and surely the Duke would find an excuse to deny her going.
Now, she knew without question that tonight would go ahead as planned. More than that, she knew that the Duke wanted her to go. He had bought her this dress; he wished for her to wear it, and he clearly expected her to look the part as they walked through the ballroom together.
“What is that?” a voice cried from the doorway.
Yvette started and spun about, then she smiled to see the cook, Lucinda, rushing into the room. She held her pregnant belly as she came, waddling across the floor awkwardly because her baby was surely due soon, and she must have been in extreme discomfort.
“Oh, Lucinda, you scared me.”
“Never mind that.” Lucinda made for the gown, her eyes wide in surprise. “Is that… where did that come from?” She half reached out to touch it, but hesitated as if it might burn her.
Yvette blushed furiously. “His Grace. He bought it for me to wear.”
“He did not!” she cried in shock.
