Esther flitted around the room retrieving discarded articles of clothing as she occasionally sent an annoyed glance in the direction of the testered bed. Noelle had been laying face down on the plush cover pane, her body racking with sobs ever since Lord Kerrington had left nearly an hour ago. She hadn’t been able to pry any information from her mistress about the encounter but secretly wondered what had occurred in the short time she had been gone retrieving her pelisse that had disheartened her so.
Quite frankly, ever since Esther had gone in the room to begin Noelle’s toilette that morning she had sensed a change in her demeanor. Her eyes that had been so alive were lifeless and dull. She was morose and almost unfriendly in her dealings with Esther and had shown not even the slightest bit of excitement about her appointment with the dressmaker to begin assembling her trousseau. And, there was no talk of Pierce or the upcoming wedding and that by far unnerved her the most.
Ever since arriving back in London, all Noelle seemed to be able to do was talk about Lord Kerrington with a dreamy, love struck look on her face. And Esther couldn’t say she blamed her, if a man as handsome and fine as Lord Kerrington was to become her husband, she’d be walking around distracted and smitten as well. The thought of such a glorious man kissing her made her cheeks instantly flame with heat and so distracted was she that she hadn’t even noticed that Noelle’s crying had finally ceased and the room had become eerily silent.
“Esther are you listening to me?”
Esther guiltily shook all thoughts of the duke out of her head and walked over to the side of her mistress’s bed, “I’m sorry milady, what was it you were saying?”
“I was saying that I want to leave.”
“And where do you want to go? Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”
“I’m not really ill you twit, I just couldn’t stomach another minute in that vile man’s presence.”
Esther gasped audibly, had she really just heard Noelle correctly? She didn’t know what had happened to change her mood so drastically in such a short time but all she knew was this behavior was completely out of character. “Are you sure you’re feeling well milady?”
“As well as can be expected, now stop asking me that. I want to you to come with me.”
“Come with you where?”
“To Shepard’s Bush. I have a—a friend I need to see, it’s urgent.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise milady, won’t your father object to such an outing?”
“Oh it’s not like he has to know. The only way he’d find out is if you were to say something,” Noelle squinted her eyes at her and assessed her coolly, “You wouldn’t rat me out would you?”
“Of course not, but what about the stable boy? Won’t he tell your father where you’ve gone off to?”
Noelle swung her legs over the edge of the bed, “No because he won’t know, we’ll tell him we’re just going for a ride through Hyde Park and that Devon is meeting us there to accompany us.”
“Very well, milady. But there is just one thing—”
Noelle rolled her eyes, “Pray tell, what is it?”
“I can’t ride a horse.”
Noelle had no sympathy for Esther and her lack of skill. She was so keen on getting to Hope in Shepard’s Bush that she was determined to drag Esther along on the back of her horse if that’s what it took to get them there. They were halfway to the mews when they were interrupted by Devon sitting atop a chestnut mare.
“Good day Noelle, where are you off too?”
Noelle rolled her eyes impatiently before turning to stare up at her brother. “We were just off on a ride through Hyde Park.”
“By yourself, unchaperoned?”
“Well, it’s actually quite good fortune that we ran into you because I was hoping you might be able to accompany us.” She hoped with everything in her that he would say that he had other plans and leave them be so they could sneak off without further interruption, but apparently luck was not on her side.
“What a marvelous idea! We haven’t gotten to go riding together since we’ve been in London this season and it’s such a fine day to be out. Perhaps you should go grab a bonnet to shield yourself from the sun.”
Noelle ground her teeth together in frustration, clearly she wouldn’t be able to follow through on her plans this day. “Please have Geoffrey saddle my horse while I go retrieve a bonnet then we can be off.” Then turning to Esther, “It appears you won’t get the chance to learn to ride today, I won’t be needing your assistance now.” She stalked off back towards the house, irritated beyond belief that she couldn’t go track down Hope and beg her to come back and marry Lord Kerrington.
Though initially Noelle had regretted Devon’s presence that morning and the ride she was being forced to take through Hyde Park, she found as they rode along, the sun beating down on their backs, that she was actually grateful for the opportunity the ride had given her to think through her plan more thoroughly. She found that her initial idea of running off to find Hope and begging her to come back and marry the duke was incredibly flawed—once Hope came back and became her, what was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go?
She had always been quite impulsive, one of the traits she possessed in great abundance. It was that same impulsiveness that had prompted her to run off with Soren, but now that she had time to think through her actions more clearly, she knew that there was no way she could bring Hope back and force herself out on the streets once more. She felt her throat clog with frustrated emotion as she thought of the predicament she was in. She silently cursed Soren for having the audacity to die on her, leaving her in this position. Next she turned her anger towards her father, for if he hadn’t so foolishly arranged for her to wed the duke, she would never have been in this position in the first place. She was so dratted mad at anyone and everything that she could hardly focus on the plethora of people who had stopped to greet the pair on their ride.
Noelle remained aloof the entire outing and by the time they had returned home she was once more in a deep melancholy. She felt so hopelessly frustrated and depressed when she thought about her future. Even knowing that she would soon be a duchess couldn’t brighten her mood any. She thought of the kiss Lord Kerrington had so unwelcomingly bestowed upon her and wanted to retch. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive, because she could admit that he was dangerously so, it all came down to the fact that she wasn’t in love with him. She was still helplessly, maddeningly in love with Soren, or the memory of Soren since the man no longer existed.
Her thoughts kept whirling around in the same never ending cycle of pity. The only solution she could come up with was not satisfactory but seemed to be the only way—she’d simply have to learn to tolerate the duke and make the most of the marriage, for she could see no other way around her inevitable future.