Dancing With A Duke – A Regency Romance
The Dukedom of Tregony was the one of the largest in England. The home of the Duke of Tregony, it was a vast estate, including ten villages, eighteen farms and hundreds of acres of grouse moor. Sleningford Castle, the Duke's home, was proportionately large. The original castle had been built in 1310 by one of the Duke's forefathers. Over the years it had been expanded and now it was a vast home, in which it was easy to lose oneself. There were two main entrances to the castle grounds. Each was guarded by a splendid lodge house and an iron gate. The driveway to the castle was simply magnificent. Only at the very last minute did the castle come into view. It was a breath taking moment of discovery for any visitor, as they rounded the final corner.
Isabella's day of work had finished, and she had retired to her room. The Governess to the Duke's three children, she had been afforded a room of higher status than any of the servants. Unusually, it was located at the front of the castle, and Isabella was able to enjoy the views of the magnificent garden, and the shooting moor in the distance.
She glanced into the full length chevalier mirror. Isabella never liked what she saw. Today was an especially bad day. Her confidence had been dented when she'd over heard the butler and the cook talking about her. She knew she wore larger dresses than was the norm, but she hated her figure and saw no reason to highlight it. Today she'd worn a green Empire dress, so typical of the period. It had a high waist line, puff sleeves and a square décolleté. Isabella had closed the décolleté with a finely decorated chemisette. She hated modern fashion. Soft muslin dresses clung to the body, leaving little to the imagination. She always wore two dress sizes bigger than she needed. She was grateful for undergarments, like pantaloons, which stopped her dresses clinging to the body she found so loathsome.
She took off her clothes and closed her eyes to prevent herself from looking at her naked flesh in the mirror. As a blind person, she searched for her nightdress, and gratefully pulled it over her head.
Isabella's routine was always the same. When she handed the children over to their nanny at five pm, she would retire to her room, read and got to sleep. This evening was no exception. She had read five chapters of 'Sense and Sensibility,' a new novel by Jane Austen. She'd marveled at the brave Mr. Willoughby. In fact, Isabella had already fallen in love with him. A hopeless romantic, she lived her life lost in the painful thought that she would never be the subject of any man's attention. She took comfort, therefore, in fictional characters.
Isabella's last activity of the day was prayer, and this day was no exception. She knelt at the side of her bed, closed her eyes and placed her hands together.
''Dear Lord, please forgive my shortcomings and anything I have done today which may have displeased you. Please also look over Edith, James and Mark. They have all done their best today and deserve your thoughts. If I may Lord, I would like to make mention of the Duke. He is a special man who has been dealt a savage blow in his life. Please release him from his suffering, and grant him a life free of grief and pain. Lord, please look upon my dear father with mercy. He has been foolish, but I know he is a good man in his heart. I ask you to protect him in that vile place. Finally Lord, I ask you to bless my late mother. Thank you for relieving her of her pain in the gentle manner you did. Amen.''
****
''Isabella, please put down your books for once and come and sit with me. I have something to tell you.'' Harriet said.
''Harriet, I would like nothing more than to sit with you and pass the time, but the children will be back from their lunch soon. I must prepare their lessons. It is no easy task. Edith is three years older than the two twins and she is, of course, far more advanced. She is especially good at French. I am sure one day she will be the wife of a French Noblesse d'epee.''
''Most of them were beheaded twenty years ago. Really Isabella you are quite out of date. I only need ten minutes of your time. Please come and sit here.''
Isabella looked at Harriet and was quite jealous. Harriet looked so noble. She was tall and her features were aristocratically fine. She had beautiful oval eyes, like Cleopatra. Isabella wondered how on earth Harriet kept her blonde hair in such superbly formed ringlets. They never seemed to be out of place or poorly formed. The thing Isabella was most jealous of, however, was Harriet's figure. She had an ample bust with which she could woo any man, and she was able to wear dresses than clung to her stomach and bottom without caring what anyone thought. Harriet was the Duke's sister, and no servant would ever dare to speak ill of her.
Isabella, on the other hand was treated with disdain by the servants. She was just a governess, a woman of high standing, forced to work because her family had failed. Isabella got up from her desk, walked to the window seat and sat down next to Harriet.
''My dear, listen to this idea. You will love it, I am sure. We're going to have a ball, a Masquerade Ball.''
''What fun,'' Isabella said without meaning it.
''Oh, I do hope so. Listen to me carefully. You and I are friends. I know my brother frowns upon our friendship, but he is just a fuddy-duddy.” Harriet placed her hand on Isabella’s. “You know my brother has been desperately lonely since the death of his wife. Her passing left him devastated, as you know. But she died five years ago. He thinks it is time to find a new wife. That's why I am going to help organize a ball. We will invite hundreds of eligible women and he can take his pick.''
Isabella suddenly felt faint. She was going to lose her beloved Duke to another woman. ''Splendid, yes. The Duke deserves to be happy. Now I really must.....''
''Not so fast. I haven't told you the best bit yet.'' Harriet was a master plotter. Usually, Isabella loved hearing about her schemes, but she had been shattered by the news that she was planning to marry the Duke off. She had lost all interest in discussing the matter further.
''I want you to come to the ball as well.''
Isabella turned bright red. ''It is not my place to question the judgment of the Duke's sister. However, I really don't think that is a good idea. What should I do at the ball? I won't know anybody, and I am really not the kind of woman who enjoys dancing with strange men.''
''Strange men? You won't need to dance with strange men? You my dear, will win the hand of my brother.''
''What?'' Isabella spluttered. ''Now I really am questioning your judgment. In all my twenty two years on this planet, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Quite preposterous.''
''No, it is not.” Harriet shook her head. “You are the most beautiful woman I know. I have a hundred lady friends and it is you, whose looks I admire most. Look at you, you are perfect. You are as tall as I am, and your figure is so slight, the next breath of air would knock you down. Your eyes are a magnificent sea blue. They would make any man fall at your feet. Your dark hair makes you look seductive. Your bust fills any gown to perfection, and your bottom is almost invisible. I have no idea why you dress like a frumpy old woman, but I will change that. When you go to the ball, you will turn heads and make my brother want you more than he has ever wanted anyone.''
''Harriet, please stop. If you continue with this ridiculous idea, I am afraid I will have to terminate our friendship. I am embarrassed by the notion that your brother would be interested in me. He plainly will not be. Now I have work to do.''
''You are wrong, dear Isabella. I want you to go to the ball. It will be our secret, the Duke is to know nothing of it.''
''Please, do not do this. There isn't a man on this earth I respect more than the Duke. He has all the attributes any woman yearns for. He is handsome, polite, witty and charming. Do not make a fool of him by trying to marry him off to me.''
''You are in love with him, aren't you. I can tell by the way you speak of him. Splendid, that makes it all the easier. I know you two would be so happy together. It simply has to work.''
''Harriet please, you are causing me more pain than I can bear. I beg you, give up this idea.''
****
''Edith, how was your lunch? Where are the boys?'' Isabella asked her eldest charge.
At seven years old, Edith was already an accomplished piano player, and fluent in French. Isabella took great pride in teaching Edith. She could see herself in the young girl. Edith was keen to learn but lacked confidence, just as Isabella had.
''Boys, hello,” Isabella’s said as they stomped into the room. “I have some lovely things for us to do this afternoon. Edith you are going to look at the subjunctive tense with me, and boys, I want you to draw. We will start with a drawing of your home.''
''I see you are busy, Isabella,'' the Duke said. He was standing in the doorway. She looked across at him and felt her heart rate increase.
''Yes, my Lord. I'm teaching Edith the subjunctive tense and the boys are drawing a picture of the castle. Can I be of help to you?'' Isabella tried not to stare at him but it was impossible. He was simply the most gorgeous man she had ever set her eyes upon. He was over six feet tall and broad in the shoulder. He had a presence that filled any room and made people take notice of him. When he looked at her with his emerald green eyes, he made her feel like a giggly little girl. She loved his dark hair and the way it flopped over every time he tilted his head.
''Can you please come to my study after Nanny has taken the children this evening? There is something I would like to talk to you about.''
''Yes, my Lord. I will come to you shortly after five,'' Isabella said nervously. What did he want with her? Did he know about the idiotic scheming of his sister? Had she upset one of the children? There was no way of knowing why he suddenly wanted to speak to her. She would have to wait.
The afternoon passed more slowly than Isabella had ever thought possible. Eventually though, it was five o'clock and the children were taken into Nanny's capable hands.
Isabella went to her room before she went to see the Duke. She wished to remove her chemisette and attend to her hair.
****
''Come in,'' the Duke shouted after Isabella had knocked on the polished mahogany door. The Duke's study was off the central entrance hall. As she opened the door, she was overcome with nerves.
''Ah, Isabella, thank you for coming to see me. Please sit down.''
Isabella sat down in a comfortable arm chair and waited for him to speak. While he finished writing, she looked around. It was a splendid room. On the walls, were pictures of previous Dukes at work in the same room. The study was as big as a tennis court. On the left wall, there was a huge marble mantelpiece adorned with the finest porcelain dogs. The Duke was a keen shooter and since the death of his wife, he had surrounded himself with Spaniels. One of them was lying at his feet. His desk was of mahogany and filled with papers. Isabella loved the feel of the room. It was a place of contemplation and honest endeavor.
''Isabella,'' he began. ''My children adore you. They never talk about anybody else the way they talk about you. To them you are heaven sent.''
''Thank you, my Lord. It is most kind of you to say so.''
''I only wish they spoke of me in the same manner. I have also noted Edith's excellent progress. She really is the most splendid piano player. Thoroughly entertaining. It is you I have to thank for that.” The Duke paused. “But, and I say this with a huge amount of regret, I am disappointed in you.''
His words slammed into her like a steam train. She found herself clutching her sweaty palms into the soft material of the chair.
''My Lord, I am most humbled, indeed shocked by your words. It has never been my intention to offend you in anyway. Please tell me how I have managed to do so, and I will correct myself immediately.''
''Are you good at being economical with the truth Isabella?''
''If you mean lying, my Lord, the answer is no. I never intentionally tell something which is not true.''
''Then why did you not tell me your father is at His Majesty's pleasure in Pentonville Prison?''
Isabella swallowed. ''When I came to work here, my Lord, my father was not in that place.''
''Then prey tell me, what is he doing there now?''
''He has debts.'' Isabella felt herself trembling and on the verge of tears. ''My father entered into a business venture with someone of ill repute. That man stole money from the venture they were joined in. Since then, my father has been trying to honor those debts. The other man has run away. The debts were so great, my father has been unable to repay them fully. He has tried but he couldn't, and now he has been sent to prison.''
''Do you understand the seriousness of this situation Isabella? Prison carries a giant stigma. The fact that the father of the woman that teaches my children is incarcerated, reflects very badly on my children, me and this whole household.''
Isabella could feel herself frown. ''I am sorry sir. I understand. Perhaps you will accept my resignation.''
''I will not accept your resignation. I want the best for my children, and that is you. However, I wanted to mention the matter to you. Please do not withhold any information about your father again. If there is a development in his case I want to know. I also want to know the sum of his debts.''
''Yes, of course, I will find out and inform you, as soon as I can.''
''Have you had word from your father while he has been locked up?''
''Yes, my Lord.''
''And how is he?''
''Thank you for your kind interest,” Isabella said. “I'm afraid things are not going well for him. He has bronchitis and the damp nature of the place is making it worse. I am terribly afraid for his health.''
''I will see what I can do about it. I know the Home Secretary. I’ll ask him to move your father to a more hospitable place.” The Duke glanced back down at his papers. “Thank you Isabella, that is all.''
Isabella went to her room. As she lay on her bed and wiped away her tears, she wondered what on earth had possessed her not to tell the Duke about her father. Of course the Duke was right. It did reflect badly on him, the children and the household. She had been inconsiderate and she would try to make amends. The worst of it was, the Duke now had a low opinion of her. She would speak to Harriet and get her to drop the ludicrous idea of inviting her to the ball.
She picked up 'Sense and Sensibility' and took comfort in Mr. Willoughby. It was July, and this day had been exceptionally warm. The room was stuffy. After a while she got up and opened the window. The window was huge, stretching from thigh level, right up to the ceiling. As she was pulling the lower half of the window up, she saw the Duke walking across the lawn. His dogs were busily running in and out of the flower beds looking for rabbits. To her horror, a young lady was walking next to the Duke, holding onto his arm. Isabella strained her eyes and tried to see if she knew the young lady, she didn't. Isabella spent the evening wondering who the woman was, and what interest the Duke had in her.
****
''Harriet,'' Isabella exclaimed as she saw her walking past the open door of the tutorial room. ''I need to speak to you.''
Harriet stopped. They continued their conversation in the corridor, out of earshot of the children.
''What on earth's the matter? The way you shouted my name, I thought the world was coming to an end,'' Harriet said.
''You can't do it.''
''Do what?''
''You can't invite me to the ball,'' Isabella whispered.
''Isabella, my dear friend, you will come to the ball. I insist on it.''
''I won't. I have decided. I spoke to your brother yesterday and I have upset him terribly. Your plan is scuppered. There is no chance the Duke will look at me now. Although he wouldn't have looked at me anyway. Your scheme was insane right from the start, and now I'm putting an end to it.''
''Do you mean you offended him, by not telling him your father is in prison?''
''Oh, heavens. You know as well. Please believe me, I am so sorry. I know I have offended your family, and the household. If I could change the situation I would.''
''Isabella, you are silly. I am not in the slightest worried for myself or the household.''
''But the Duke told me he was disappointed in me.''
''The Duke often says things he doesn't mean. He has to deal with lots of people every day. He's just made a mistake, that's all. When he sees you at the ball in front of him, he will fall head over heels in love with you. Trust me.''
''He is already in love with another woman.'' Isabella cringed at her careless remark. She had no idea who the woman on the Duke's arm had been, and she certainly couldn't ascertain whether they were in love or not.
''What are you talking about?''
''Yesterday evening, I saw your brother walking arm in arm with another woman.''
''Ah, yes. Lady Victoria. She's the daughter of Lord and Lady Somerset. Awfully rich and well to do. My brother seems to like her and she has been here a couple of times. But she isn't a patch on you. You will see, I am right. Now go back to the children and stop fretting.''
''I admire your confidence in me, I really do. But I will not go to the ball. I will not embarrass the Duke with my presence.''
Isabella turned around and went back to the children. Their beaming faces made her feel better, but she was upset that Harriet seemed intent on putting her in an intolerable situation.
****
Isabella changed into her best dress, a white muslin affair with a high neckline. The edges were adorned with Egyptian ornamentation. Isabella didn't particularly care for the ringlets that most women seemed to choose. She parted her dark hair in the middle and let it hang naturally.
When she was ready, she descended the grand staircase and walked to the Duke's study. The door was open and she saw the Duke stroking one of his Spaniels.
''My Lord,'' she said softly so as not to shock him.
''Come in,'' he said, as his eyes fixed on her breasts. It was the first time he had seen her display any flesh, whatsoever. ''You wanted to see me? Harriet told me.''
''Yes, my Lord. I want to say thank you.''
''For what?''
''For having my father moved. I have had word from him, and he has told me his bronchitis is much improved. He is in a less hostile establishment in Norfolk. I believe the country air will be more sympathetic to his condition. Thank you very much for arranging it. I appreciate it more than you could ever know.''
''I am pleased he is improved.''
''One more thing, my Lord. You asked me to tell you the sum of my father’s debts.''
''Ah, yes. Just a minute, I'll write it down. Go ahead.''
''I am ashamed to mention the figure, my Lord. It is an astronomical amount.''
''Perhaps it is. However, you shouldn't let that prevent you from telling me.''
''Three thousand pounds.'' Isabella dropped her eyes to her lap in shame.
''That is indeed a vast sum. Not insurmountable but nonetheless a large sum. Thank you for telling me. How are the children coming along?''
''Very well my Lord. I have every faith in them. They will all have bright futures.''
''Tell me Isabella.” The Duke leant forward. “Please do not think me intrusive, but where is your mother while your father is in prison?''
''She passed away.''
''Of what?'' he asked, suddenly regretting it. ''I am sorry that was indelicate of me. It is none of my business.''
''I suppose it could be called poverty.''
''Do you mean she had nothing to eat?'' he asked, alarmed at the thought.
''My Lord. My father was in debt, the bailiffs took everything and they did indeed have precious little to eat. My mother was not strong physically and it was too much for her.''
''Was that before you came to work here?''
''My mother died a few months after I came here, my Lord.''
''What? And you didn't tell me?''
''No.''
''Why? You should have done. We are wealthy. Harriet and I could have helped you.''
''Sir, it was at a time just after your wife had passed away. It seemed indelicate to burden you with my problems.''
''Does nobody tell me anything, in my own home? Please tell me Isabella, am I an intimidating man?''
Isabella was taken aback by his question. ''What exactly do you mean by intimidating?''
''Are people frightened of me? In other words, are people so scared of me, they won't confide in me?''
''My Lord it is not my place to …...''
''Nonsense. As governess to my children, I am sure you are well placed to answer my question.''
Isabella had a sudden burst of courage. He wanted to know, she would tell him. ''Yes my Lord. You are an intimidating man. Sorry, I don't mean to use that word. Authoritarian would be a better word. You have an authoritarian air about you.'' When she looked at the Duke, she noticed her comments had hurt him.
''Do you mean that, Isabella? Is that how people view me?'' The Duke appeared so handsome with a look of concern across his face.
''Yes, my Lord, I am afraid they do.''
''And what do you propose I do about it? I would much prefer people to feel they can approach me and confide in me.''
''Perhaps it's because you lost your wife but you don't smile at people. A smile goes a long way. You appear distant and lacking in interest for others. I am sure you are none of those things. But if you smiled more often, I am sure you would find others more open to confiding in you.''
''Thank you, Isabella, for having the courage to tell me that.''
''It wasn't a question of courage my Lord. You asked me, I didn't offer the information openly.''
''But you could have lied, and told me I was perfect,'' he said, a chuckle passing his lips.
''That's what I mean, my Lord. Now you are smiling. You look so much more approachable.'' Dashing.
''I have decided to marry again,'' he said unexpectedly.
Isabella was aghast. Was it Lady Victoria? Harriet hadn't indicated the Duke was close to marriage. On the contrary. ''That will be very good for you, my Lord. I am pleased you have reached that decision. May I ask who the lucky lady is?''
''I have no idea.''
Isabella could breathe again. ''That is interesting. You have decided to marry again, but you don't know to whom?''
''No. I have no clue. My mind is open. All I know is my sister and I are holding a ball at which I will endeavor to find a bride. How do you think the children will react to having a new mother?''
''I think they will need some time to adjust. After that, if the lady in question is sensitive, I am sure they will be very happy.''
''Yes, I thought much the same. I wish to ask you one more thing Isabella.''
''Yes my Lord, please do.''
''Would you please help me to choose what I will wear to this ball? My sister has no taste for male clothing and I have nobody else to ask. I want to find someone with the same social standing as myself. It's got to be a Duchess or Baroness. If I dress like a pauper, I will end up with someone from a different background. Such marriages never work.''
Isabella glanced down at her dress. ''Yes my Lord, I would be delighted to help you. If my Lord will excuse me now, I need to lie down. It's been a hard day and terribly hot.''
When Isabella closed the door to his study, she leaned against the wall and slowly sank down onto her haunches. So that's it. He wants a Duchess and he sees me as his valet, she thought. A large lump was developing in her throat and she felt the need to cry. She ran up to her room, slammed the door shut and banged her fists into the mattress. Her mood was not helped when she saw the Duke wandering over the lawn with Lady Victoria again.
Just before she went to bed, Isabella prayed again. ''Dear Lord, please forgive my shortcomings and anything I have done today which may have displeased you. I would like to ask you to look over the Duke during this difficult time. Please guide him to make choices in his life that will make him happy now, and always. Thank you Lord that my father is now in a more comfortable place. Finally Lord, and I do not ask this lightly, please help me to rid myself of the incessant feelings of misguided love I feel at this time. I am tormented by intense waves of jealousy and envy, which are burning deep through my soul. Please guide me through the next days, that I may be stronger and free of pain. Amen.''
****
''Isabella, perfect timing,'' Harriet said as she saw her friend walking down the corridor. ''A week to go. We need to get you some clothes. On your day off, we will go to town and buy you the most splendid gown and shoes. Not to forget a masque.''
''Harriet, I will go to the ball as you requested, but not to woo the Duke into something he clearly doesn't want. Do you understand me?'
''The Duke doesn't know what he wants. Until we show him what a beautiful woman you are, how can he know?''
Isabella was tired of Harriet's scheming, but she had decided to go along with it, that the whole business may be over with. She would go to the ball and the Duke would chose his bride. It would not be her. Harriet would give up her silly idea and then she could get on with her duties once again. She only hoped her prayers would be answered and that her feelings towards the Duke would change from ones of searing love and desire to the kind of love one has for a brother.
''Alright, we will go to town on Saturday,'' Isabella sighed. Harriet gave a little jump as her scheme took another step forward.
****
Truro was a bustling town of some ten thousand inhabitants. Only a short distance away from Sleningford Castle, it was the most convenient place for Harriet and Isabella to go shopping. The town was home to many tin mine owners who had built themselves impressive homes along the main streets. The main shopping street was a lady's delight. From millinery to haberdashery, it had it all. Harriet had one particular shop in mind, as she walked arm in arm with Isabella down the busy street. 'Longdons, Dresses for Fine Ladies.' It was a shop for wealthy women who wanted to buy something unique for a special occasion.
When Harriet opened the door, Isabella heard a quaint bell ring. She walked into the most enchanting shop she had ever been in. On each side wall, there were racks of gowns. Not one the same. There were two arm chairs in the middle of the room and a French style desk which Isabella presumed was the sales counter. When she looked more closely at the dresses, she noticed every color she had ever known and some she hadn't.
''Miss Harriet, welcome back. It's so lovely to see you. We have had so many ladies here over the past few days, all invitees to the ball.''
''Thank you Mrs. Richardson. I do hope you haven't sold all the best gowns. This is my good friend, Isabella. I want nothing but the best for her. As you can see, she dresses in rather a frumpish manner. I want you to make her the desire of all men. I want a gown of fantastic beauty, but also of the utmost allure. I want it to turn heads. This young lady has the finest figure in all Cornwall, please help her to show it.''
Isabella turned a bright shade of pink at the thought of having all the men at the ball devour her figure with their eyes. Mrs. Richardson seemed like a kind lady. Isabella decided she would have a quiet word with her when they were in the fitting room.
''Well, it's lovely to meet you Miss Isabella. Let's have a look at you.'' Mrs. Richardson stood back and cast her expert eye over Isabella. ''Indeed you are right, Miss Harriet, she does have the most charming figure. Although it is barely visible under these baggy clothes, I do have an eye for these things, and she is perfect for what I have in mind.''
Isabella wished to scream but she remained calm and awaited her fate with grace. Mrs. Richardson was a woman in her late fifties. Of small stature, she looked as though she enjoyed cakes a little too much. Her long gray hair fell around her face quite charmingly. It gave her a motherly look and Isabella was sure she could trust her to select a charming dress for her.
Mrs. Richardson walked to a rack of gowns and pulled one out. It was deep red. When Isabella saw it, her trust in Mrs. Richardson began to wane. ''Let's try this one. You told me you wanted allure Miss Harriet. How about we go one step further. Passion. Deep red is a passionate color, it works wonders on a man's senses. She'll have them falling at her feet in this. Follow me, Miss Isabella.''
Isabella pulled an awkward face and reluctantly followed Mrs. Richardson into a fitting room. Once inside, Isabella was dismayed to see the walls covered in full length mirrors. Her sorrow was compounded by what seemed like a thousand candles lighting the room so fully, there was no shadow for her to hide in.
''Alright, Miss, please take off your clothes, all of them.''
''But I can't, I mean....... I don't want to.....I'm so.''
''Nonsense, Miss. I hope you will believe me when I tell you that you are the most beautiful young lady I have had the pleasure of fitting. Now, off with your clothes.''
Mrs. Richardson had changed from the nice motherly figure Isabella had thought her to be, into an ogre. Isabella didn't want to stand naked before her, but it seemed she had no choice. Slowly she peeled off layer upon layer of loose fitting clothing, until eventually she stood as naked as the moment she was born. She crossed her arms over her breasts and bent her pelvis back, hoping Mrs. Richardson didn't look at her most secret place.
''Really, Miss, I have no idea why you made such a fuss. Look at you, perfect. You have a great bust and such a tiny waist. I will be able to show you off as never before. Your bottom is delicate yet full and this gown will hug you and show you off perfectly. You seem to lack confidence, Miss Isabella, but you needn't. I have seen more naked women than I care to remember, probably well into the thousands, and you are in the top ten when it comes to figure shape. Now just stand there while I put this over your head.''
Harriet sat in the shop, watching people pass by the window. When Mrs. Richardson appeared, Harriet looked round eagerly. Isabella put her head around the door and looked to see if there was anybody else in the shop. When she saw there wasn't, she walked out of the fitting room and stood a couple of yards from Harriet.
''Oh, heavens. I'm going to cry,'' Harriet exclaimed. ''Mrs. Richardson, you are a genius. Isabella, you look stunning. Please do not wear those horrible baggy clothes ever again. In fact, Mrs. Richardson, please put the clothes she arrived here in today, into the dustbin. As well as this gown for the ball, we will take another two dresses for day wear.''
''But, Harriet, I can't possibly aff0rd...''
''Mrs. Richardson put all of them on my account please.''
''But, Harriet....''
''Do not argue. Now let me have a proper look at you.'' Harriet walked around Isabella and made her feel like a tailor's dummy. What Harriet saw was indeed a miraculous transformation. The gown was from satin and deep red. It was remarkably daring, and Harriet knew her brother's jaw would drop when he saw it. It had the shortest of sleeves, giving it the appearance of being sleeveless, and a décolleté that plunged into the deep valley between Isabella's breasts. Lower, the dress hugged her bottom, showing it to perfection, before blossoming into to a fuller shape. ''I really am going to weep,'' Harriet reaffirmed. ''It is more than stunning. When we get some jewelry on you, you will be a very dangerous woman indeed.''
Isabella smiled awkwardly. The dress made her feel strange. On the one hand feminine and seductive, on the other hand vulnerable.
****
''Harriet,'' the Duke shouted from his study, as he heard her giggling.
''Yes my Lord.'' Harriet went in to his study, stood next to his desk and stroked the dog that wandered up to her.
''Tell me, what has happened to Isabella?''
''What do you mean?''
''She looks different somehow. More like a young lady, less like an old aunt.''
''Ah,'' Harriet uttered. ''Isabella has been quite saddened recently by the fate of her father. I believe she fell into something of a depression and wore some less than flattering clothes for a period. It seems what you did for her father has improved her mood, no end. She obviously feels able to be her old self again. She does have the most amazing figure, doesn't she?'' Harriet smiled as she waited for her brother's answer.
''Yes, indeed she does. Quite a remarkable difference, I must say.''
Now Harriet was more convinced than ever her plan would work. Isabella much less so when she again saw the Duke with Miss Victoria. This time actually holding hands, not just walking arm in arm. Isabella prayed once again, that evening. This time she asked that her feelings would become more tolerable and that she'd be given the courage to wear the red gown with the dignity it commanded.
****
''Isabella, thank you for coming to help me. As you can see there are a number of options to choose from,'' the Duke said as Isabella looked down at the suits covering the sofa in his study.
''Indeed, there are a number of options, my Lord. Let me see, which one do you tend towards?''
''No idea,'' the Duke said unhelpfully.
''We must start somewhere. I will tell you what I like and you must decide if that can be your choice as well. Here, I like this tailcoat, it is dark and modest. It is becoming of a Duke. Colored tailcoats remind me of merchants. You are a Duke, you must wear classic clothes. Here, I like this waistcoat. Silver is a becoming color for a man with your hair color. Trousers, let me see. Here. These are long. I don't like men who wear pantaloons they look far too feminine. Long trousers will show off your height much better.” Isabella paused. “Let me see, what do we have now? Black tailcoat, silver waistcoat, black long length trousers. Perfect. Stylish, not garish. Add a white shirt and cravat and you will look good enough to eat.'' Isabella suddenly realized the horror of her last remark. ''My Lord, please, I didn't mean to be so vulgar.''
''Not at all. A very witty comment. Something I have never heard before. Now please turn your back while I get into these blessed clothes''
Isabella hadn't expected this. She was going to be in the same room as the Duke when he took off his clothes? She wasn't sure she could bear it. ''Yes, my Lord,'' she said obediently. She turned to face the wall as the Duke began to undress. Isabella was horrified to find that she could see him reflected in the crystal vase on top of the mantel piece. Should she close her eyes, or look? She chose to close her eyes, but after a few seconds, her curiosity took over. When she opened her eyes, she saw him totally naked except for a ridiculously tight fitting undergarment, which left nothing to the imagination. She saw his chest, broad and filled with taught muscles. His stomach looked hard and superbly flat. Isabella dare not look anymore and she closed her eyes. As she did so, she was surprised to see a lingering image of his bulge etched in her mind. As she heard the rustle of clothes behind her, she was acutely aware of her own body. For the first time in her life, she felt a deep desire to have a man inside her, and that man was the Duke.
''Finished,'' he said, much to Isabella's relief.
''Very handsome, my Lord,'' she said sincerely. ''That is exactly how you should dress to the ball. You will find a beautiful wife in no time.''
''Than you, Isabella. You have helped me no end. May I ask you something?''
''Yes, my Lord.''
''Do you think it too early for me to find another wife?''
''No, my Lord, I do not. In fact it is more than time. A man has needs. He cannot live alone all his life. It is five years since your wife died. Remember her with love and affection, but allow yourself to move on. Somewhere out there, a beautiful woman awaits you. A woman who will make you happy. You shouldn't deny yourself any longer.''
When Isabella had gone, the Duke sat down and thought about what she had said to him. What a perceptive young lady, he thought.
****
Isabella looked out of her bedroom window and saw a queue of coaches stretching down the driveway for as far as she could see. It seemed the whole of society had been invited. She turned back into the room and looked at Harriet. ''Thank you for helping me to dress,'' she said.
''You look magnificent. Isabella, before you go to the ball, you must tell yourself what you are. You are not a governess from a poor family. You are a beautiful independent woman who can have any man she wants. This evening you are going to go and get my brother. I know you love him. Go and make him love you.''
Isabella's legs were shaking at the thought of the task Harriet had given her. ''But your brother has been seeing Miss Victoria.''
''Heavens above, Isabella. Now I am going to be very angry with you. That woman isn't a patch on you. If you love the Duke, do him the courtesy of relieving him of that woman by putting yourself in her place. He needs you. You are perfect for him.''
Harriet's rousing speeches had Isabella's head in a spin. Could she really pull it off? Would the Duke fall in love with her? She really had her doubts. But she'd made her mind up, she was going to try. ''Very well, Harriet, I will try.''
''Thank you Lord'', Harriet said, looking up at the ceiling. ''You should wait until my brother is at the ball, before you come down the stairs. We don't want him seeing you, before you get to the ballroom. I will go and make sure he is in the ballroom. When he is, I will come back and get you.''
Harriet went and within twenty minutes she was back again. ''Let's go to the ball,'' she said enthusiastically. ''Don't forget your masque and remember to keep it on at all times, the Gentlemen won't be wearing a masque so you will be able to see my brother easily.
****
The Ballroom was an enormous hall in a separate wing of the castle. When Isabella arrived in the room she was overwhelmed by the number of people. There were ladies in gowns of every color and men in dashing suits. She stood in the giant arched doorway and looked around. The hall was an oblong shape. To the right there was a stage upon which there was a quintet of musicians. Below them in the center, she saw some people dancing in formation. She looked around to see if she knew anybody. Harriet had left her because she didn't want her brother to guess it was Isabella. Behind her masque and in such a beautiful gown the Duke would never guess it was Isabella, but if Harriet stood next to her, he may well have.
Isabella decided to walk around and see if she could see anyone to talk to. As she passed a group of young men, each of them turned their heads and watched her. It wasn't long before there was quite a buzz around the place. Nobody seemed to know the beautiful lady in the striking red gown. Isabella walked down the side of the dance floor and glanced around the hall from the other end.
''Good evening, Miss. I am Lord Falconbury. May I say how charming you look? It is seldom one sees a lady in such a striking gown. My compliments.''
''Thank you, sir. It is indeed a striking dress, you are correct. I did wonder whether I should wear it or not. Courage overcame me.''
''You look most beautiful. Would you dance with me?''
''If you would excuse me, I'd prefer to stand here a while longer before dancing, sir. Thank you.''
Half an hour passed, and Isabella was beginning to tire of the constant stream of gentlemen who came and asked her to dance. Where was the Duke? She couldn't see him anywhere.
Then, to her left she saw him - with Lady Victoria on his arm. I thought this was supposed to be a ball to find him a wife. If he's already chosen, why on earth he bothering? she thought.
When the Duke walked with Lady Victoria towards the dance floor, Isabella beckoned to Lord Falconbury and said, ''Please my Lord, dance with me now.'' Lord Falconbury was surprised she dare to ask a gentleman to dance but as she was so beautiful, he did not take offense.
It was a dance called The Eighth of August. Isabella was pleased because it would give her the opportunity to speak to the Duke as there were moments when partner changes were called for. She stood opposite Lord Falconbury as they bowed to each other. On her right stood Lady Victoria, and opposite her, the Duke. The dance began. As she stood in line she noticed the Duke looking at her. It didn't seem to be her masque that was attracting his attention, though.
When it was Isabella's turn she set off and met Lord Falconbury in the middle. They danced around each other and spun off to the next partner. Isabella crossed to the Duke. As she rounded him, she said, ''My Lord, that is a most beautiful waistcoat. Silver compliments your hair color so well.''
The Duke looked at her and smiled. ''I don't believe we have been introduced,'' he said, before he spun off to the next partner.
When their paths crossed again, he said,'' My children's governess helped me choose it.''
As quickly as she could before they had to part again, she said,'' Miss Isabella?''
The Duke raised an eyebrow. ''Do you know Isabella?'' He had to dance away again, but she had awoken his curiosity.
When he came back to her, she answered him. ''Yes, I know her, very well in fact. And prey my Lord, how do you find her?''
Again the Duke spun off and continued the dance around Lady Victoria. Before he could answer, the dance ended. The Duke walked to Isabella. ''She is a very agreeable young woman.''
''Agreeable?'' Isabella asked.
''My lady, I don't know who you are. As I don't know who you are, it is perhaps easier for me to speak of my torment. Miss Isabella is the most beautiful woman I know. I am in love with her. I am tortured daily that I will never be able to take her for my wife.''
Isabella was delighted and devastated at the same time. ''Why on earth could you never marry her?''
''I fear society would frown upon it. Miss Isabella is from a family that has fallen on hard times and her father is in prison. I am a Duke. I have to think of my reputation. In addition, Miss Isabella wears some very unbecoming clothes. If she dressed like you, perhaps I could find my way to ignoring society and marry her nonetheless.''
''My Lord, if I may say so, you are being foolish. You are in love with a beautiful woman. Would you let her go because of what society thinks of her? I can tell you what Miss Isabella thinks of you.''
''Yes, what does she think of me?'' he asked curiously.
Isabella didn't answer but walked away from him. She walked out of the hall and into the fresh air. She had just one hope: that the Duke would be so curious as to the answer, he would follow her.
The Duke didn't see Isabella leave the ballroom. She had woven her way between guests and he'd lost sight of her. He walked around frantically trying to find the lady in the red gown. After ten minutes Isabella had the blackest thoughts she had had since her mother had died. He hadn't followed her. He didn't really care to know what Isabella felt. Her dream was really over.
She took the path that circled the castle and began to walk the lonely route to a side door where she could slip inside unnoticed, and go to her room.
''Stop. Please stop.'' The Duke. Isabella didn't turn around. She listened to him trying to catch his breath.
''Dear Lady. Why did you run away from me?''
''I didn't run my Lord.''
''And?''
''And what, my Lord?''
''What does Isabella think of me?''
Isabella still with her back to him, turned around. She looked at him. She saw a desperation in his eyes. His hair was disheveled and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.
Slowly, she put her hand to her masque. She hesitated, but then drew in a long breath. She removed the masque.
The Duke gasped when he saw it was her.
''I want to tell you that Isabella loves you very much. More than is good for her. Her life is a daily chore of heartache and pain and will continue to be, unless you free her.''
He looked at her. A beautiful sensual woman, standing in front of him, in a red gown. The same dress he had wanted to rip from her lithe body on the dance floor.
He cleared his throat. ''Will you please relay to Miss Isabella that I love her very much. It pains me to know that she suffers at my hand and I will indeed free her from her misery forthwith. Would you please tell Miss Isabella that I will come and see her in her chamber, as soon as I am able to free myself from the drudgery of Miss Victoria.''
''Yes. my Lord, I will ask Isabella to wait for you.''
****
Isabella had the longest, most nerve racking wait of her life. More than two hours passed. She sat in the same chair and stared at the door, the whole time. Her thoughts rolled between moments of thorough ecstasy and deep depression. He had declared his love for her just moments ago, but where was he? Why was he taking so long? Had he changed his mind?
Then, there was a knock at the door.
Isabella jumped up and threw it open. She watched as he stepped towards her. ''I am sorry I have been so long. That awful woman wouldn't take no for an answer.''
''Well, my Lord, I am pleased you are here now.''
''You will have to stop calling me, my Lord.” The Duke placed his hands on Isabella’s shoulders. “Isabella, I love you and I have loved you from the minute I saw you.''
''Then why didn't you come to me? You could have saved us so much misery.''
''I was torn between two worlds. I was worried what society would think. Now I realize that was a big mistake.''
He reached for her and pulled her to him. He bent to her and kissed her passionately. Isabella almost fainted. It was what she had wanted for so long. In one movement he had taken her to another happier place.
As they kissed she could feel his desire pushing against her. His hands reached behind her and started to unfasten the buttons of her gown. One by one he snapped them open. Isabella wanted him and now she wasn't going to be shy anymore. He gasped as she felt for his bulge and found it. She felt him and found his balls, then the line of his shaft. She felt him shiver when she traced the full length of him and let her finger rest at his tip.
He put his hands inside her décolleté and pushed the gown from her shoulders, down past her thighs and onto the floor. He stroked her back with his strong hands. It made her thrust her pelvis against him.
He was insatiable now. He dropped to his knees and pulled down her underwear. Without stopping to admire her sex, he thrust his tongue between her legs and raked it over her soft lips. Isabella gasped, pulled his hair and opened her legs wider. His tongue made strong movements over the whole of her wetness, and she moaned with each movement of it. Her desire for him was so strong, it took every ounce of air out of her body and made her feel like a woman. She felt her legs beginning to shake and was grateful when he stood up and gathered her in his arms.
He put her gently down onto the bed and pulled her underwear from her. When he stared at her, she wasn't shy, she was proud of her body and the effect it was having on him. He bent down, pushed her legs apart and put his mouth to her pussy again. Again his tongue began its onslaught. He licked every inch of her folds and then latched onto her clitoris. Her belly heaved as she felt her first orgasm coming. She screamed, squeezed her legs against his head and came over his mouth. He gratefully lapped her juices while her back fell to the bed again and her breathing returned to normality.
He stood up and smiled at her as he undressed. When he took off his shirt, Isabella looked at the hard muscles on his chest and stomach. His biceps bulged as he moved his arms down to his trousers and began to open them. Isabella wasn't content to just lie and watch him. He was amazed when she sat up and pushed his hands away. She wanted to unpack and discover him herself. She hungrily opened each button, reached inside and grasped his hard shaft. He threw his head back as her delicate hand stroked his tip. Now she wanted to see him as well as feel him. Her fingers hooked into the material and pulled it down. His trousers came with her hands and she gasped as his penis sprang up in front of her face. She took hold of him and looked him in the eyes as she stroked it. When she looked at his cock again she could see droplets of his excitement glistening at her.
Keeping hold of his shaft she leaned back and pulled him down on top of her. He slid his trousers down to his ankles and kicked them of. With her hand, she guided him carefully to her vagina and urged him to enter her. When he did, he did so with one hard thrust. It made her gasp as she had never done before.
Being filled by him was all she had wanted for as long as she cared to remember. Now he was finally inside her. She held onto him as her made love to her. Each time he thrust into her, he rubbed against her clitoris and, before long, she felt another orgasm rising up in her. She put her hands onto his hard buttocks and pulled him into her. Then she began to push her pelvis to meet his shaft, as it parted her. When her orgasm came, Isabella bit into his shoulder, drawing blood. He ignored it and thrust faster. Again Isabella felt another wave rising and crashing onto her. She was a wreck now, shaking, open and used.
As he fucked her, she heard him beginning to grunt with the effort. When she wrapped her legs around him and whispered, ''I love you,'' he cried her name and came. Isabella felt his hot seed coating her insides and she was sure life could never get any better.
As they lay in each other’s arms, the Duke said,'' Wait a minute, I have something for you.'' He got out of bed, walked to his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He jumped back into bed, took her in his arms and gave it to her.
''What is it?'' she asked.
''Open it.''
Isabella had never seen three thousand pounds before.
****
THE END