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“Listen, you silly girl. I have done enough for you and your mother as my obligation requires. You have less than four balls from now to make a match or my choice is final. Do you understand?”

The menacing tone at the end of her uncle’s words had Frederica nodding frantically at once. “Yes, Uncle. I understand,” she replied, an instant surge of helplessness and despair threatening to consume her whole.

CHAPTER 2

The soft ringing notes of the piano as Frederica stepped into the ballroom on the arm of her mother slowly ate away at the nervousness she felt. One that had clung stubbornly to her ever since their arrival at the Haversham’s estate and throughout the entirety of dinner.

The grand wallpapered room supported by large columns and awash in light from the sparkling chandeliers across the vaulted ceiling held a good number of the finest members of society; the women and men, all immaculately attired in the latest fashion as they socialized, in large and small groups, scattered around the ballroom.

Some women were gathered a few feet away from them and whispering amongst themselves as they threw glances around the room at everyone. Frederica knew they were gossiping which wasn’t a strange occurrence at society functions such as this, but the inanity of it all left her feeling tired even before the evening was in full swing.

This was her third Season since her debut and if she failed to make a match for herself this time, she’d not only be considered a spinster but forced to contend with her formidable uncle’s choice of suitor; a prospect that not only terrified her but had refused to budge from her mind since he’d announced it on the carriage ride.

Right from childhood, she’d always desired a life of singlehood and had sworn to only settle for a love match if she was ever to be married. Something akin to what her mother and father had shared. With her uncle left to make that ultimate decision, it was beyond certain that she’d be married off to a man of dubious character for just the right amount of money and connection.

Trying hard not to sigh, Frederica gazed absentmindedly, taking in the sea of glittering headpieces, colorfully dramatic ball gowns and impeccably starched cravats and boots that glinted in the soft, shimmering light illuminating the room.

“Excuse me, I see the Earl of Langford. I believe we have some pressing business to discuss.” Her uncle excused himself the moment they finished making the appropriate rounds and disappeared immediately into the crowd.

“Keep an eye on the girls, Dorothea. I simply must know where Lady Castergarden acquired such an exquisite turban,” Lady Gillingham instructed Frederica’s mother, before leaving in the wake of her husband.

“Look, Freddie! There is Lord Sterling in the company of the Duchess of Lindmore,” Julia indicated suddenly with a subtle jut of her chin. Frederica followed her gaze to where the tall, dark-haired earl stood conversing with the renowned duchess who was elegantly attired as usual in a red ball gown adorned with glittering sequins. She was regarded as a strong fixture in thetonand never failed to make a statement at these events with her colorfully flamboyant gowns with matching accouterments.

“She looks amazing as usual,” Frederica said, admiring the shimmering glow of the sequins from the distance as they caught the light.

“Like a dream,” Julia’s voice grew wistful. “Look at the way everyone’s attention is drawn to her. I would give anything to be in her shoes. If only I can find a way to win Lord Sterling’s attention. That should aid my course quite smoothly.”

“But I remember a rumor I overheard at the Hamilton ball about a proposal between him and Penelope Ashburn,” Frederica said, her voice low as two women drifted closely past them.

“Well, that’s just a rumor started by Penelope herself,” Julia said firmly. “I heard the Stanton girls discussing about it at Madame Beauchamp’s establishment. Lord Sterling does business with her father, and I assume she thinks that gives her more claim over him than everyone else.”

“But I’m sure you’re also aware of the earl’s rather notorious reputation for being a rake,” she reminded her cousin. “I think you should think about that a little more before trying hard to catch his attention. There are other eligible bachelors here to focus on instead.”

“For someone who dislikes society a lot, you seem to be privy to all of the rumors and gossip,” Julia’s tone held a bite. She had obviously been expecting her support as usual, not a lecture on common sense or societal affairs.

“Well, that is because I listen… a lot. Besides, I have the knack for fading into the background and that comes with its own advantages,” Frederica said and gave her a warm smile, hoping to ease the displeasure etched on her face.

“Like I said, none of the rumors have been proven to be true,” Julia persisted, remaining adamant. “Lord Sterling is quite the catch and I’d rather take my chances than take advice from someone who hasn’t even been courted once for three whole seasons now.”

The jab was sharp and struck a nerve in Frederica, but her smile never faltered. Her cousin was right after all. She’d danced with plenty of men in the past seasons and been visited twice by two admirers but nothing worthwhile had come out of it. Towards the end of last season, she’d resigned to living vicariously through her cousin who never ran out of constant streams of admirers and gentleman callers trooping in and out of Cromwell House.

“Dear girls, I’ll be just over there. Come to me if you need anything,” Frederica’s mother interrupted them, promptly retiring to a seat at the corner of the room, just like she’d done at all the functions they’d attended since the beginning of the Season. Despite how aloof and unconcerned she appeared sitting there with her hands folded on her thighs, Frederica knew just how far her mother’s thoughts had sailed. Away from the ballroom and the activities going on around her. Somewhere she found more peace than what her present reality offered.

“I still have an empty dance card,” Julia was saying. “I just need to position myself strategically to catch his sight.”

Distracted from watching her mother with worry clouding her heart, Frederica finally turned to regard the Earl of Ashgrove, struggling to see exactly what her cousin saw in him but failing horribly. Apart from being handsome in a dandyish sort of way, there wasn’t anything else spectacular about him. Though they’d never been properly introduced, she doubted his ability to sustain an intellectual debate or any conversation that didn’t revolve around the frivolous affairs of society.

A passing footman with a tray of wine glasses saved her from coming up with a suitable reply for her cousin and snagging a glass for herself, Frederica downed the entire content in one fell swoop.

Embracing the warmth that chased away the nerves in the pit of her stomach, she looked up to meet a speculative smile on Julia’s face. “My, you must have been quite parched,” she commented, long, slender fingers still wrapped around her wine glass.

“No, just riddled with nerves. You know how these affairs tire me out easily.”

“Because you allow yourself to worry and judge everyone’s opinion rather than partake in the activities around you,” Julia chastised. “You barely left your mother’s side before dinner was announced or got your dance card signed by anyone else but that creepy Lord Bennington.”

Frederica sighed. For the second time that evening, Julia was right. From the first moment they’d been announced at the Haversham’s residence, Julia’s mother had taken it upon herself to introduce her daughter around and get her dance card filled up almost immediately.

Frederica on the other hand had sat with her own mother in a corner, trying her best to avoid the leering gazes from some older gentlemen beside them. It wasn’t any of her fault though. Unlike Julia, there hadn’t exactly been a score of worthy prospects seeking her out either. Nor was her mother in any mental state to steer her through the process of socializing and scoring worthy dance partners.


Tags: Emma Linfield Historical