My Dear Duchess Read Online Free

jet black hair had been dressed high on her small head in a fashion that was all her own. Instead of attiring her in any of the pastels considered suitable for a young debutante, colors which would have made Frederica’s olive skin look sallow, she had found her an old rose crepe gown of Clarissa’s which made her skin the color of light gold. Simple gold jewelery brought out the gold flecks in her large eyes and the only small comfort Clarissa had was that the child was too short for beauty.
    Captain Wright smiled at the animated little face opposite him in the carriage. He had been regretting his generous impulse since the very sight of Frederica seemed to put his beloved out of sorts, but he had to admit that Frederica’s happiness was infectious.
    Even the languid and elegant Marquis of Blandhaven seemed to be charmed by the girl. He was paying her extravagant compliments while Frederica laughed with delight, seemingly oblivious to her mother’s warning frowns or her elder sister’s displeasure.
    They arrived at the gate to the gardens and the Captain prepared to gallantly offer Frederica his escort but the Marquis was already there before him, proferring his arm and leading her along the walk. The Captain gladly offered his arm to the fair Clarissa but he watched the pair ahead of him with a worried frown.
    Lord Percival, Marquis of Blandhaven, was not a gentleman that any mama should trust. A notorious member of the Dandy Set from his padded shoulders to his high heeled shoes, he was considered to be of the first stare by a certain section of society who considered the Corinthians too sober and austere in their dress. He was a man of five-and-thirty and his hard, thin features under their delicate layer of paint were considered handsome enough. But there were too many unsavory rumors attached to his name. He was reputed to have a passion for very young girls.
    “I feel that your sister should not be left alone with Blandhaven,” he confided to Clarissa as he escorted her to Mrs. Bannington’s box.
    She gave a rippling laugh and rapped him playfully with her fan. “I declare you are jealous, sir!” she cried. “But do not waste your time worrying about Frederica. Lord Percival is only devoting his time to her to
please me
.”
    The Captain turned to look down at her, slightly astonished at the arrogance of her remark, but as they had just come into the lights of hundreds of lanterns, and Clarissa’s perfect face turned up to his was such a vision of beauty, he felt his breath catch in his throat and completely forgot what she had just said.
    Frederica was unheeding of her escort’s compliments. For Vauxhall was like a fairytale come true—the myriads of lamps, the musicians in their cocked hats who played in a golden cockleshell in the center of the gardens, the servants in shabby liveries carrying pots of stout, the bouncing dances of the cockneys, and above all the twinkling boxes where one could dine on almost invisible wafers of ham and perhaps exchange a few commonplaces with the handsome Captain.
    The Marquis had ordered a bowl of rack punch. Mrs. Bannington was drinking champagne and advised Frederica in an undertone to do the same “for that nasty aniseed-flavored punch can really make one feel quite unwell.”
    The rack punch, however, seemed to have quite an enervating effect on Clarissa so that when the bell rang for the fireworks display, she merely shrugged when she heard the Marquis asking her mother’s permission to take Frederica to the show. Mrs. Sayers bit her lip in vexation but was still too overawed by anyone who held a title to demure. Frederica was so excited that she would not have cared who escorted her.
    Oblivious of the Marquis, she
oohed
and
aaahed
with the best of them as the myriads of stars exploded and cascaded over the gardens. The final fiery tableau of “God Bless The Prince of Wales” brought the exhibition to a close and with a tremulous sigh of satisfaction, she