Page 46 of Deviant Duchess
A moment later, several couples approached them to offer their congratulations on their marriage. Deborah kept her smile on her face, accepting the kind words with grace- even if some of the people had twisted them in a particular way that made her hackles rise.
“So very glad you did not fall into your sister’s footsteps.”
“How very good to see the Hunt family is starting to rise to its rightful place.”
“Such a shame Hester is not here to see how well you have done.”
Cedric, though, handled them all, sparing Deborah most of the effort of coming up with a positive response. In fact, as he handled the backhanded compliments with wit and great composure, she even began to feel thankful for his presence.
“My wife is a woman of her own sharp mind, is she not?”
“Of course, my wife raised her family back to its rightful place. Did you not know of her astounding resolve? It was one of her many attributes that drew me to her.”
“Talk of my wife’s good works is spreading far past London. I am sure Hester knows how well she has done and is very proud.”
“Now if you will excuse us,” Cedric said presently to a couple whose names Deborah already forgot, “I believe my wife and I would like to go greet some friends.”
“Thank you,” Deborah whispered as Cedric led her away from the small crowd that had encircled them.
“You looked as if you needed a reprieve,” Cedric murmured. “I never forgot how exhausting our people are, but I believe I neverfully understood how different it would be as a woman who was talked about. Some of their words were positively barbed with thorns.”
Deborah let out a weak laugh as they came to stand near one of the columns of the ballroom that stood close to one of the entrances. She leaned her back into it and closed her eyes, inhaling the flower-scented air that drifted in through the open doors. When she opened her eyes, she found Cedric standing directly in front of her, blocking the view of any curious passersby.
His usual smirk was still affixed firmly to his handsome face, but annoyance glittered in his eyes.
“I am sorry I am not as adept at handling thetonas you are,” she offered, thinking the annoyance was for her.
Cedric’s brows flew up, as if he were startled.
“You should not have to be adept,” he replied, sweeping his gaze around them. “I thought we were supposed to be the most sophisticated society in the entire world. Yet it seems no one is above getting a shot in whenever they can. Vultures. The lot of them.”
Deborah gave him a tired smile, and he gave her a half-smile as his eyes shone with a hint of worry.
“What do you need?” He asked. “Brandy? Wine? Something stronger?”
“I think I just need a moment to myself,” Deborah replied. “Would you mind?”
Cedric looked unsure, but after a moment, he nodded his head.
“I spotted my friend Godric by the bar. He despises society more than I do, so I should check in on him anyway. When you need me, you can find me there.”
Cedric then reached for her hand, and a tingle moved up her arm as he placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.
“I am not far,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
Once he dropped her hand and turned away, Deborah drew her hand to her chest and rubbed the spot where he had kissed; those tingles were still moving up and down her arm. She absent-mindedly continued to rub the spot as she turned back to the ball, leaning her shoulder against the column as she looked over the many faces and fine, expensive gowns. This was a world that she had learned to be without. One that had cast her and her family out, and despite telling herself over and over again that she deserved to be there, she could not help but feel as if she should not be.
Hurt laced through her as she recalled the past. How those right in front of her had called Hester horrid names. How some had likely even thrown those eggs at their windows. Her stomach turned sour as she took in their finery and beauty, thinking that all of them were twisted and ugly on the inside and stark opposites to their outward appearance.
Especially her,Deborah thought, her eyes landing on the woman she had heard being called “The Lady of the Bloom.” She was wearing a particularly outlandish gown constructed of flowers. It was gaudy and loud, but it still looked more like a piece of art than something someone would wear.The more beautiful the gown, the uglier the heart, no doubt,she mused, narrowing her eyes to get a better look.
Suddenly, relief and joy flooded through her, and she let out a gasping laugh. Beneath the layers of cosmetics on the young woman’s face, she recognized those particular brown eyes, and without a thought, she began moving through the crowd.
“Beatrice?” She breathed, drawing closer to the woman.
“Beatrice!” She said louder, and as the woman turned, a wide smile spread across her face, and the two rushed to one another. Deborah let out a laugh as they gripped one another’s arms and squealed with delight.
