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He smiled softly, patting the hand that was on his other arm.

"As am I, Lady Dorothy."

"I thought that we were going to drop the formalities?"

"You never did. You continue to use my title, and so I thought you were not ready."

"I suppose it is because it is strange. When it comes to my own name, though, just Dorothy is fine. Nobody else that I know calls me Lady Dorothy."

"Do you not know very many people?"

"Only my family and my three friends, although they are very good friends of mine. I assume we will be invited to dinners with them often, especially my friend Emma. She is a duchess, and the only other married friend of mine."

But the Duke had changed suddenly. It was as though his demeanor had changed entirely, and he did not wish to be there anymore.

"We ought to return soon," he muttered.

"Have I said something wrong?"

"No. I simply…"

He cleared his throat, and she waited.

"What is it?"

"I do not plan on ever leaving my household once we are married."

CHAPTER 7

With one little comment, the Duke had made Dorothy question everything.

He was, indeed, the reclusive Duke that had been the subject of discussion at the ball, and Dorothy was to marry him. She did not know the extent to which her life would change, but even if he had no qualms about her leaving her new home she did not like that he would not be accompanying her. Though not very well versed in the ways of theton,she knew what was said when one member of a marriage attended an event without the other.

They were seen as unfortunate, and assumptions were made that their marriage was miserable. Dorothy did not want that for herself, and so if it came to it she would not attend at all. It upset her greatly, as she had enjoyed events; they gave her time with her friends, and even if she was not successful in other endeavors it was at least something, and she would no longer have that.

She sighed, looking at herself in the mirror and adjusting her wedding gown.

A special license had been acquired at the Duke's request. He claimed there had been no need to wait, her father explained, and so the wedding day had been arranged for two weeks after the promenade. She had thought her parents would be proud of her for doing so well that he wished to marry her as quickly as possible, but they had said nothing, as though she had only done what they had expected and nothing more.

Her mother entered as she thought about that.

"How are you feeling?"

"Nervous."

"That is normal. Every bride feels like this on her wedding day, even the ones that adore their husbands."

"That makes me feel a little better, I suppose. Do I look all right?"

"You do. The modiste has worked wonders with this gown, has she not?"

She had, indeed. Dorothy was unsure of how she had done it, but she had made the gown in such a way that her flaws were hidden away from view. She turned in the mirror to look at herself fromthe side, and winced at the fact that her soft stomach poked through.

"Yes," her mother sighed, "the diet did not work as well as I had hoped. The modiste seemed to know that, though."

"It appears so. I am sorry, Mother."

"Do not be. It is not your fault that you look like this. I blame your sister."