Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
WHO IS THE NEW DUKE OF CHESTER?
I smile to myself, writing the story in my mind.
New hats for the new Duke of Chester were being delivered only yesterday to his newly refurbished house on the corner of Belmore Square. Imagine if today we finally discover who the new Duke of Chester is.
‘Eliza, come along now,’ Mother sings, snapping me from my thoughts, unceremoniously tugging me towards the park entrance. ‘We have an engagement to keep.’
And my smile falls, my mind swiftly reminded of my obligations. A few more paces down the road has us at the entrance of the royal park, where lush meadowland awaits us, replacing the dusty, dirty ground of the street.
Mother breezes through the gilded gates, visibly relaxing, her shoulders no longer high and tense, as if she is running the gauntlet. Now, it is I who will run the gauntlet. I should perhaps throw down the gauntlet instead. I challenge anyone to force me to marry a man I do not know, least of all love.
‘Ah, look, it is Lady Tillsbury,’ Mama sings. ‘She’s a patroness of Almack’s, don’t you know.’
‘I do know,’ I assure Mother. I know of every resident on Belmore Square, and Lady Tillsbury is quite a fascinating one. The Baroness of Shrewsbury, widow to a dead baron, and quite a force to be reckoned with, everyone wants to be friends with Lady Tillsbury, because being a patron of Almack’s, the lavish ballroom where the best of the best party and find husbands and wives, she has a say in whether you will be honoured with an invitation to enter. Not many are. I have a feeling Mama is fishing for one.
‘Such a lovely lady, she is.’
‘I expect she is.’
‘Oh, there’s Mrs Fallow too.’ Mama waves to Mrs Fallow, who happens to have a daughter the same age as me, Lizzy, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, sultry-looking creature whom I’ve seen Frank admiring on a few occasions.
I watch as Mother breezes across to Lady Tillsbury and Mrs Fallow and they start ambling down the path together towards the one and only lake in the royal park, while Lizzy, Clara and I follow, me bored to tears and Clara frowning at Lizzy Fallow, who is pouting at any man who passes.
‘How is your brother?’ Lizzy asks, appearing as coy as she is trying to be.
I look at Clara out of the corner of my eye, smiling as she purses her lips, a veil of warning falling. Clara doesn’t know of our brother’s rakish ways, or that he would give the sultry Lizzy here a run for her money in the flirting stakes. Clara is blinkered by her adoration for Frank. Make no mistake, I adore our brother too, but I am not deluded. He is a rake, and I know that not to have changed just because we are no longer in the countryside, and the ladies are not like the ironmonger’s daughter or the butcher’s daughter. It seems wholly unfair that my brother can continue as he did, except wear fancier clothes while he continues to do it, and I have to change… everything about myself.
‘Our brother’s affections are taken,’ Clara says, her jaw tight.
‘By whom?’ Lizzy enquires not too subtly.
Everyone. ‘We are not at liberty to share,’ I say, placing a hand on Clara’s hand to pacify her. I can see the fire in her eyes, and despite it being quite delightful, I must not let that fiery temper of hers emerge in the middle of the royal park while we are promenading. Lizzy must see it too, because she excuses herself and joins the Hamsley girl – the one who is on her fifth season. This for five more years? Or marriage. God, life is unfair. Lizzy Fallow has probably gone to gloat to poor Eve Hamsley that this is her first season, and it will most likely be her last, especially since Mrs Fallow will have her in Almack’s without delay, taking offers to wed her from lords, dukes and any other man with a title and money. ‘It is a rather bland park, don’t you think?’ I say, motioning to the endless green. ‘Just grass, no flowers.’ Clara scowls, and I smile, pointing to the grass ahead, distracting her from her grievance. ‘One hundred years ago, when the Prince Regent’s great grandmother was queen, she discovered her lover had a lover.’
‘Did she not have a husband?’ Clara asks, shocked.
‘She had a husband, of course. But she also took a lover.’
‘Why ever would she do that?’ she asks, truly astounded, and maybe a tad confused. ‘A queen of all ladies must behave properly.’
‘I agree. Aren’t you glad we are not queens?’
‘I don’t know,’ she says on a sigh. ‘I’m quite enjoying being a lady.’
‘Pretending to be.’ We are all but frauds.
‘So why would a queen take a lover if she has a husband to fulfil her every need?’ she asks, pulling me to a startled stop.