Page 18 of The Duke of Swords (The Highwaymen #4)

THE DUCHESSES SEEMED to take a great deal of delight in creating her new identity, and Rae would be a fool not to allow them to assist her, so she left it all to them, offering input only if they insisted, leaving everything else up to them, since they seemed to be enjoying themselves so very much.

She did not see Rutchester.

Days passed, and then a week, and she was caught up in a whirlwind of other things.

A modiste came in to take her measurements and to show off a variety of various cloths and laces and ribbons. The duchesses chose everything, giggling over the choices, telling Rae she would look just darling in this or that.

The duchesses had her sit down and submit to having her hair put into ever so many different styles of updos, also, and they seemed to have endless energy for such things, calling out for another hairstyle immediately once the first was done.

Rae could not help but enjoy it a bit, too, but she was a bit put off by all the attention. She wasn’t sure if she liked people looking at her. She wasn’t used to such things.

Sometimes, late at night, she had similar thoughts to the thoughts she’d had at Fateux’s home.

I could escape, she would think . I could get up in the midst of the night and go out of the front door, and I think no one would see and no one would stop me.

Where would she go, however, after she left?

Why to him, of course, she thought immediately.

She sort of missed him, she had to admit. She and Rutchester had not been in each other’s company for very long, so it didn’t make any sense to miss him.

And anyway, it wasn’t likely him she really missed.

It was two things.

One, Rutchester was the first person, since her nanny Mrs. Charn, who had been dismissed when she was twelve, who had ever comforted her in a physical way.

When she had been quite small, and she was sad or lonely, she could climb up into Mrs. Charn’s large lap and snuggle herself into Mrs. Charn’s arms. Mrs. Charn was always there to give her a hug when she needed it.

But then, that was over. No one had hugged her in quite some time.

And in the carriage, Rutchester had seen that she was distraught and come over to pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her. She remembered the way he’d tucked his fingers under her chin and tilted back her head, the way he’d carefully wiped her tears away.

No one had been kind to her like that in so long, it was no wonder she missed that.

Two, Rutchester wanted her. She’d never been wanted at all.

Even Mrs. Charn, who she was relatively sure had loved her, had only loved her after a fashion, for she was a job, a charge, to Mrs. Charn.

The woman had disappeared from her life the minute there was no salary in it for the woman. Mrs. Charn had not wanted her.

Her father had never wanted her. She had been worthless to her father, just another burden. Even her late mother, of whom she had only a few memories, because the woman had been sickly for the few years that Rae’d had with her, had preferred Rae’s brother, the heir.

Rutchester wanted her enough to kill the man she belonged to. He wanted her so badly that he didn’t even bother to clean the blood from his body before he came and claimed her. He wanted her so badly that he could not keep his hands off of her, even though he claimed it was wrong for him to do so.

There was something heady and wondrous in being wanted in that way. There was something powerful in it.

But she could see it all for what it was.

She was needy, and Rutchester met her needs.

She didn’t know why he did that, though. Maybe out of guilt? She didn’t think, however, that he loved her, and she knew she didn’t love him. She sort of wished he was around to use him, however, because he made her feel good.

It was strange, because that might have been easily enough for her only a few scant weeks ago, but she’d spent too much time with the duchesses and their dukes now, and she could see the way they loved each other, and now she craved that sort of connection and would accept nothing less.

The difference with the duchesses was that they were self-possessed and free and happy. They chose their men, and the men allowed them to be that free. It was as if they were equals, not as if the men ordered the women around.

Rae didn’t know how to be that self-possessed.

She hoped she might find the way to it through the fancy dresses and fancy hairstyles and the new identity they wished to give her. Maybe, if she were as self-possessed as they, she would attract a man who would see her the way the dukes saw them, as an equal.

But now…

Now, she was so very, very needy that anyone who wanted her would have to work far too hard for her. She was too much for any man, as it now stood. Far too much.

Soon enough, it was time for the ball that would be her debut into society. It was not the reason for the ball, not like a coming-out ball for a debutante, it was only that this was coincidentally, the first ball where she would be attending as her new persona—the Countess of Nalsbrinne.

There had been an Earl of Nalsbrinne, who had lately died.

He hadn’t come to town in years, apparently, not being interested in filling his seat at Parliament and not being interested in London itself.

He hadn’t been married, but no one remembered that.

He hadn’t had any heirs, so his title had passed to distant cousins who lived in Germany.

“They’ll never come to England,” said Patience.

“Oh, never!” said Hyacinth.

The two duchesses thought that no one would ever know that she was not the Countess of Nalsbrinne.

“Of course,” said Hyacinth, “your marriage was very brief. You were sent there as part of a negotiation between your father and the late count, and you were only married for less than a month before he died.”

“Yes,” said Patience. “So if the distant cousins do come, it’s not as if they should recognize you or anything.”

“But,” said Rae, “shouldn’t they have some idea that he had a wife at all?”

“Oh, you’ll just act confused, too, as if they ought to have been told of you.”

Rae considered this and decided they might be right.

The night of the ball, she was dressed in a confection of light blue and lace. She spent too long in front of the mirror, looking at herself from each and every angle.

She’d never had such a dress!

She looked like a countess.

She looked like something out of a storybook. She preened and posed in the mirror until a servant poked a head through the door and said everyone was downstairs waiting for her.

Chagrined, Rae descended the steps as Hyacinth applauded, saying that Rae was a vision of beauty.

“Don’t you think so, Daniel?”

“Mmm, no one is even remotely attractive besides you, my dearest,” said Dunrose airily. He was wearing a suit that was bright red. His cravat matched. Dunrose, it seemed, was a dandy.

His duchess’s dress matched, too. They were quite the pair in crimson.

Even in her dress, which was the nicest dress she’d ever worn, Rae realized that—entering with them—no one would even look at her. This pleased her, though. Being the center of attention was maddening.

At the ball, Hyacinth carelessly introduced her to everyone she spoke to. “Oh, my old friend Rae, lately the Countess of Nalsbrinne.”

No one questioned it.

Men asked her to dance!

It was quite exciting. She’d never been to a ball before. She’d never had a dance card. She’d never been pursued.

There, she thought to herself, this will be good for me. I shall experience what it is like to be desired by someone other than Rutchester.

The first gentleman to dance with her, though, barely looked at her.

He seemed concerned mostly with telling her all about his trip to India and what he thought about the spices they used in the food there and how they used spices incredibly differently here.

“Ginger, for example. We use ginger in sweets, but they use it in everything .”

Rae didn’t know what a titled man was doing in a kitchen, observing the spicing of food, but she supposed that an Englishman in India probably got to go wherever he liked to barge in. No one would stop him, after all.

And after that dance, she came off the dance floor to look for Hyacinth (Patience was not there, since she was concerned she was increasing too much to be seen in public, though Hyacinth and Rae had both assured her that she was not showing overmuch).

But before she could get to Hyacinth, a woman stepped into her path.

Rae stopped short, letting out a gasp, and she realized her error in not speaking of the fact that she had met this woman.

It was the Marchioness de Fateux. “Well, you’re the Countess of Nalsbrinne, are you?”

Rae’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She could see it all, now. This woman could ruin everything for her, quite easily.

“And here with the Duchess of Dunrose,” said the marchioness. “Did you know I practically raised that girl, that she is practically my own daughter?”

“What?” said Rae, for Hyacinth had said nothing of the sort.

“We had a quarrel as of late, it’s true,” said the marchioness.

“But she will speak to me now, if I bring you along, and if I tell her that I can shatter her silly little false identity that she’s built for you.

Come, then, my lady , we go to speak to mon chaton .

” She placed an ironic emphasis on Rae’s title, for Rae was, of course, not a lady.

“To your kitten?” said Rae, very confused.

“I tell you, I practically raised her,” said the marchioness. “Come.”

They went across the room to Hyacinth, who was in the middle of speaking to a group of women. She looked up at the approach of both Rae and the marchioness and a cloud crossed her expression. Immediately, she excused herself and hurried over to intercept them.

“What is this?” said Hyacinth. “What are you doing to the poor countess?”