Nellie sat up, her hand on her hair. “Barlow told me. Did the matter end satisfactorily?”
He frowned. “What did Barlow say?”
“Very little.” She waited for him to elaborate.
He avoided meeting her eyes. “There was endless discussion in the House.” He bent over and picked up the book from the sofa beside her and flicked through it. “Emma? It’s popular. I wonder who the author is.” He handed it back to her.
“It has definitely been written by a woman,” Nellie said.Ask him about the roses, she urged herself. She had moved the flowers onto an occasional table.
Charles’s gaze flickered over them, but he made no comment. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“We are invited to dine with the Hammonds and attend their Victory Ball. These affairs tend to end close to dawn. You must rest.”
“Yes, I shall lie down.” Nellie turned to the door.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm, gazing down with affection. “I believe I shall join you.”
She wanted him to, so much that she almost agreed. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. “Would you mind very much if I went in alone?” she asked. “I am rather tired.”
“Of course,” he said, disappointment deepening his voice. “Rest well, darling. I shall see you at eight.”
Nellie was relieved when he entered his own apartment before he could see the tears in her eyes. He had lied to her! Barlow had been evasive and uncomfortable, but he’d clearly said that Charles was not in parliament. The only reason must be because he’d been with some woman. Or perhaps he had gone to see his son? She put her hands to her wet cheeks and moaned.
How absurd she was, she didn’t understand herself. She expected too much from this arranged marriage. And she needed to stop. She must make a life for herself within it. The huge bed looked unwelcoming. With a heavy sigh, she lay down in her wrapper and pulled up the covers. Sleep eluded her as she studied the swag of heavy fabric above her. She began to take stock of the room, the wallpaper, curtains, the selection of art hanging on the walls. Even the furniture. She would change it all. Make it hers. Then she might feel a little less forlorn.
She drifted off.
A knock on the door brought her out of a deep sleep. She blinked. Her hopeful thought that it was Charles who could not stay away was shattered when Lilly entered with the tea tray. “I thought it best to wake you, Your Grace.”
Nellie plumped the pillows behind her and sat up. She felt much better; she had been tired. She took the cup and saucer from the maid and sipped the reviving hot brew. She didn’t know what had got into her this morning. Her thoughts had been nonsensical. Selecting a strawberry tartlet, she bit into it. “I hope the duke didn’t ask for me. You should always wake me if he does.”
“I haven’t seen him, Your Grace.”
Charles had said eight o’clock. She glanced at the mantel clock. It wasn’t yet six.
“I’ve laid out your apricot beaded gown, as you requested, and the matching slippers,” Lilly said.” Shall you wear your pearls?”
“No.” Nellie finished her tea and left the bed. “I’ll wear the red tonight.”
As the clock chimed seven, Nellie stood before the mirror, somewhat satisfied with her choice. Her mother would not approve of her new gown. It was exquisitely made, the low neckline quite revealing; the slender crimson satin slip featured a border of white satin and was ornamented at the hem with clusters of flowers. The three-quarter length overdress of silver-striped French gauze flowed about her when she walked.
Nellie chose silver kid slippers, and Lilly had braided her hair very cleverly with pearls in the stylea la chinoise.
At the dressing table, Nellie pulled on French kid gloves, then clasped the sparkling diamond bracelet onto her wrist. It was Charles’s bridal gift. Her gaze settled on the hated rose Lilly had placed in a bud vase. The color almost matched the crimson of her dress. Drawing it out of the vase, she was about to throw it away but changed her mind. She pinned it to her silver beaded reticule.
While putting on diamond earrings, Charles entered. She watched his face in the mirror, fearing he might disapprove of the color or the low cut of her gown.
He came over to her chair with a large velvet box in his hand. “That’s a beautiful ballgown. You look stunning, Nellie.”
The black and crisp white evening clothes suited him. How handsome he was. She tried to ignore the tug at her heart. A desperate need to rise and step into his embrace caused her heart to pound. She pushed back her chair, wanting his arms around her, but he’d bent his dark head over the box. Opening it with a thumb, he laid it before her on the dressing table.
Diamonds flashed from the velvet bed. Two necklaces, one intricate like a spider’s web, featured a large diamond at its center, the other a dainty diamond choker.
Charles selected the choker. “I had in mind for you to wear the Shewsbury necklace, but you need little adornment with that gown.”
His fingers were light on her nape as he did up the clasp. He bent and kissed her shoulder, sending tingles over her skin. “Did you have a good rest?”
