Page 17 of His Illegitimate Duchess

“I gather you had a lovely dance, then,” Talbot said in a dry tone, but his eyes were laughing.

“I’m afraid I might never recover,” Lizzie replied, and for the first time since she’d arrived at Almack’s, she felt lighthearted.

“Pardon my boldness, Miss Hawkins,” Talbot said dramatically, and Lizzie knew she would like whatever he said next, “but would you be so kind as to explain your colour choices?”

Elizabeth looked down at her dress, then out into the sea of pastel on the dancefloor. She remembered Lady Burnham warning her not to discuss her working days with her suitors, but this was not a potential husband, so she decided on a half-truth.

“I spent a lot of time at a modiste’s in the company of knowledgeable seamstresses before I became a refined young lady,” she said jokingly. “And that experience has given me a good eye for fashion but has also left me with an aversion to pastel dresses.”

Talbot thought about her words for a moment, and she saw the exact moment he understood.

“Purple is just too dark,” he said after a while.

“This isn’t purple, it’s mulberry.”

“And the yellow at your brother’s ball was too shrill.” He ignored the correction.

“It wasn’t yellow, it was jonquil,” she persisted.

“Did your time at the modiste’s also help you develop a fascination with ridiculous names for ordinary colours?”

“How can a colour called love-lies-bleeding be ordinary? Or blush? Or ponceau? The coat you’re wearing is corbeau. ”

“It’s dark green, Miss Hawkins.”

Elizabeth inclined her head to the side as she pretended to be thinking. “I can see your point. After all, all horses do look the same to us women.”

Talbot barked a laugh that seemed to surprise and inconvenience him so much that he had to cover it up with a cough.

“The cough might have been worse than the laugh,” Elizabeth said, highly amused.

Talbot wasn’t.

“Who are you dancing the second waltz with?” he asked, unwilling to respond to her teasing.

“Corporal Harding.”

“He might be a good match for you,” Talbot said thoughtfully.

“We shall see,” Elizabeth replied. “I have to have a meaningful conversation with him in order to get a sense of his character, and I’ve already exerted myself so much this evening.”

“There is a smaller tea-room to the left of the ballroom.” Talbot frowned slightly as he spoke, at himself, it seemed. “Be careful, the large card room is to the right of the ballroom, do not enter there unaccompanied.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped with gratitude before she remembered herself and straightened them.

“Thank you,” she said and gently squeezed Talbot’s hand.

She truly appreciated his help and the relief she felt in his company. Whenever she danced with the Duke, she was able to briefly forget the pressure to behave as she was taught to and to make a good match, and just be a young woman at a ball. Lady Burnham was right; it was enjoyable.

After the dance, he led her to the refreshments, frowned at the table, bowed, and walked off. Probably to that card room he mentioned , she surmised.

After she enjoyed her silent moment in the tea room, she was more than prepared to dance and converse with the Corporal, who turned out to be a rather interesting man.

“So, this is your first Season as well?” Elizabeth teased, and he smiled.

“It is, indeed,” he responded good-naturedly.

Elizabeth hoped that was his usual way of dealing with life. It would make for a peaceful and enjoyable marriage.

“Why only now?”

“Well, after the war I needed time to adjust to my new-old life,” he said with a wistful smile. “Then my uncle passed away and I inherited his estate, the management of which was utterly unfamiliar to me.”

“Was learning estate management very strenuous?” Elizabeth decided to ask about the war some other time.

“Nothing is too hard if one is willing to adapt to changed circumstances,” Oliver said, and the words struck a bell inside Elizabeth, causing her to feel the vibrations throughout her body.

“Indeed,” she agreed in an almost-whisper.

They danced without speaking for a while.

“Did you grow up in the country?” The Corporal broke the silence.

“No. I’ve never even visited the country until two years ago.” Elizabeth halted, unsure of how to proceed.

Neither Fordyce nor the Lady of Distinction treated the matter of bastardy in their works. Corporal Harding seemed equally uncomfortable.

He must have been made aware of my background and is worried I shall start discussing it, she realised.

“I’ve been to my brother’s estate in Berkshire several times. I’m afraid that is my only contact with country life.” Elizabeth settled on that explanation, and the Corporal seemed relieved.

“How did you find it?”

“It was lovely. The air was so clean it was actually harder to breathe at first,” Elizabeth said seriously, but the Corporal laughed.

In her peripheral vision, she saw a few heads turn towards them and feared her face would betray her unease with the attention.

“My estate is in Wexcombe, and I know exactly what you mean about the difference in the air.”

“I take it you are not particularly fond of London?”

“The capital is necessary, but not enjoyable, if you ask me. I prefer the forest and open fields.”

“It does sound like a more peaceful existence,” Elizabeth admitted after hearing a bit more about his estate.

“Do you think you might enjoy spending more time in the country in the future?” he asked as he led her off the dance floor.

“I think I might,” Elizabeth said, still smiling as Oliver bowed and turned away from her.

She looked to the right and saw Duke Talbot escorting his own partner off the floor. He glanced at her smiling mouth and immediately looked away. *

That night, as she sat at the big workbench that doubled as a kitchen table, she told the women of the house about her first night at Almack’s in great detail.

As she talked, she let her fingertips wander over all the marks on the well-loved object, which was the first piece of furniture she had ordered for her new home, and which Robert had made exactly the way she’d envisioned.

This table was a silent witness to every change and event in her new life.

She sometimes foolishly liked imagining the tree it had belonged to, and was certain it had been a tall, old, stoic one.

She was asked to describe every dress, coat, slipper, and hair ribbon she’d noticed, and she managed to name most of the guests, thanks to Aunt Isolde’s incessant monologue whenever they had been side by side at the ball.

Her audience laughed at her imitations of the self-loving Lord Slaymaker and the brother-loving lawyer, and they gasped with excitement at the Corporal’s hints about her future visits to the countryside.

Mrs. Barlow shook her head and told her she’d been wise not to further engage with a man as good-looking as Slaymaker.

The only event that Elizabeth deliberately glossed over was her dance with Talbot.

She told them they spoke of colours that were in fashion, Corporal Harding, and the layout of the building.

She didn’t lie, not really. But she also hadn’t revealed that she’d made him laugh and how proud she’d been because of it.

Or that they were… friends, in a way. It was so fatuous that it was better left unspoken.