Miss Alden smoothed her hands along the front of her dress, a crimson stain coming to her cheeks as her fingertips hovered over a small stain. Felix eyed the splotch on the fabric as he wondered if Miss Alden was prone to a lack of etiquette. He found it impossible to believe, as his mother had gone to finishing school with Miss Alden’s mother.
Surely, if Miss Alden was such a lost case, his mother wouldn’t have offered to sponsor the young woman for the season.
Miss Alden rocked on her heels as a man placed a trunk beside her. “Thank you, sir.”
The man dipped his head before turning and striding back to the ship.
Felix’s footman snatched up the trunk and hauled it away with the carriage driver, taking it to a black carriage waiting for them only a few yards away. “Mother, you will see to it that Miss Alden has suitable clothing for the first ball, won’t you?”
“I have suitable dresses. While I appreciate your concern about my attire, I assure you that there is nothing wrong with it,” Miss Alden said, her voice tight as her jaw jutted out.
Edith pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping to Miss Alden’s hands which were bare, her nails long and shaped into little ovals. She stepped closer to the young woman while Felix and his sisters waited with bated breath.
Though he was the Duke of Windham, even he knew better than to vex his mother. Edith would not chide or rant in public, but in the privacy of his castle, she would not hesitate on pestering him until she was satisfied that she had spoken her mind. And while he respected her opinions, this was the last thing he needed today.
Hyacinth took Miss Alden’s hands. “You must come to the modiste with us. It is a wonderful time. Madame Renault is wonderful. She creates the loveliest dresses.”
Miss Alden wavered, her gaze darting to Felix’s. He stood taller, glancing away from her. Though she was beautiful she was no longer a blushing debutante. Nearly seven years the junior to his seven-and-twenty. If she found herself incapable of sourcing a husband in New York, where society had lower standards, he did not have faith in her ability to match with a high-ranking noble.
“Lady Hyacinth, correct?” Miss Alden pulled her hands away, though her smile was still warm and inviting. “My father has sent me with enough dresses to last the season.”
Felix smothered a smile growing at the corners of his mouth. Miss Alden would soon discover that she was entertaining a losing game.
Edith’s lips pursed tighter, nearly invisible as her cheeks hollowed. “A trip to the modiste will provide you with the fashions popular in society.”
Felix sighed at the subtle jab, watching as men and women rushed from one shop to the other along the port. They dodged large patches of mud where cobblestones had been broken and removed from the road. Others stopped alongside the stone buildings, glancing at the moss growing in thick patches.
The port was a sight to behold, but it was a horrific one.
It had fallen into disrepair as funds passed with his father. After the former duke had died, the duchy had drifted into a subtle decline. Felix used what little money there was to repair what he could, but it still wasn’t enough.
This will be the season to change that.
He glanced to Miss Alden as she laughed at something Hyacinth said. Her laugh was soft and lilting, reminding him of a songbird.
Though he would have a dowry to pay when Victoria found a husband, there would be one less mouth to feed.
The Baron of Elington was willing to send a considerable sum to house his daughter. It would be a start to repairing the state of the duchy and more would come if Felix found Miss Alden a good match.
Victoria strode back to them with a deep-blue ribbon dangling from her fingertips. “Miss Alden, this is for you. I should think you would like to have it woven through your hair for the first ball. It will bring out the color of your eyes.”
That ribbon isn’t quite the right color.
Blue her eyes were, but they didn’t contain the same green tinge as the ribbon. While it would complement her eyes, it wasn’t be the same.
Miss Alden looked at him as if she had heard the words playing through his mind. “Thank you, but you really must call me Isabelle. I suspect that we will be the best of friends through the season.”
“Perhaps,” Victoria murmured as Miss Alden took the ribbon. “The modiste might have a silk that will match. The theme of the first ball is constellations. In that color you would look like the sky right before the stars appear.”
Edith beamed and nodded. “We will go to the modiste at once. Windham, would you allow the carriage to take us there before we return to the castle?”
“Of course.” Felix clasped his hands behind his back. “I have business I need to settle with the port master. Have the carriage take you wherever you wish.”
Miss Alden glanced around the port, her small nose wrinkling slightly. “I can see why you would want to speak with him.”
Felix bristled. “Well then, we best wish that your husband has a far more satisfactory port than my own.”
Her easy smile was back as she turned to him. “I am not looking for a husband.”
