The Unexpected Duchess(98)

Lucy’s gaze swung to Jane, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m merely here to cheer you on. This ladylike business is entirely Cass’s domain.”

Lucy whimpered. Could she do this? For Derek? She didn’t know but she had to try. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she reached out and squeezed her friends’ hands. “By all means, then, let the plan begin.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO



By the time Lucy arrived at the royal palace a sennight later, she’d been schooled in absolutely every single bit of decorum—and for lack of a better term, girlishness—than she had in her prior twenty-three years of life. What Cass knew about being a lady could fill volumes. It was quite extraordinary. For example, who knew there was a proper way to laugh at a gentleman’s jest? A proper way to ensure your gait was not too hurried? A proper way to raise your skirts when walking through mud? And a proper way to address certain members of the queen’s household? Oh, Lucy had probably heard these rules before, naturally, but she hadn’t been paying a whit of attention five years ago. It had bored her to distraction, actually. But now, with her future with Derek in jeopardy, Lucy studied these asinine bits of decorum as if she were the most zealous and ambitious young lady on the verge of making a debut.

The rules had all been repeated ad nauseam, drilled into her head, and practiced over endless rounds of rehearsals attended by Cass as the devoted and strict instructor, Jane as the audience and general jeerer, and Garrett upon occasion when the subject matter called for a male to be present, such as dancing.

But most surprising of all was that Lucy actually enjoyed some of it. She kept Derek in her thoughts. Doing these things with Derek, spending time with him. It all seemed like a small price to pay for a future with him. And by the end of it she’d had the thought more than once that if she hadn’t spent so long vehemently protesting the general concept of participating in ladylike pursuits, she might very well have enjoyed them all along.

But still, as Lucy approached the great doors to the queen’s chambers, her insides quaked. No matter how many hours Cass had spent teaching her, did she truly have it in her to be a proper lady? The smell of lemon polish reminded her of the last time she’d been here. She gulped. At least her mother wasn’t with her this time to see her shame. Oh, she’d written to her mother, and casually mentioned that she would be going to see the queen, but she’d steadfastly refrained from adding the bit about a possible engagement to a duke. No sense getting Mama’s hopes up too high if nothing were to come of it. Of course, the rumor mill might well make it to her mother’s ear before she had a chance to explain. But that was a risk Lucy was willing to take. Aunt Mary, at least, had promised to keep quiet until after everything was settled one way or another. Lucy could always count on Aunt Mary to take her side over her mother’s.

Two handsome footmen sporting royal livery pulled open the great doors to the chamber. Lucy sucked air through her nostrils and then slowly began her march toward the throne. Her footsteps echoed against the marble floors. The closer she came, the more she recognized the details from the scene of five years ago. The princesses were lined up in chairs on either side of their mother, the servants stood at rapt attention along the walls, the ladies-in-waiting and the rest of the court milled about, laughing and— Oh wait, they weren’t laughing. They were silent. All silent. Watching her approach.

Lucy concentrated on putting one foot in front of the next. Balance, Cass had said, was the key to mastering the formal dress of the court. The hoops that had nearly upended Lucy five years ago were tamely mastered this time. At least she could claim that small victory.

She glanced around. Aunt Mary had escorted her and Cass was there, just as she’d said she would be. She’d begged her mother to allow her to come today. Lucy suspected Lady Moreland had allowed it so that the queen might see how much better a duchess Cass would make, but Lucy appreciated her friend’s presence nonetheless.

Cass and Aunt Mary both gave Lucy encouraging smiles just before she came to a halt several paces in front of the queen’s throne.

“Lady Lucy Upton, Your Majesty,” some regally dressed servant announced.

The queen looked down her nose at Lucy. She seemed to study her from top to toe. No doubt the princesses were doing the same. She couldn’t look at them.

“Lady Lucy,” the queen intoned.

Lucy held her breath. If she remembered correctly this was one of the most difficult parts. A throne room bow wearing hoop skirts was something from which one might well never recover. But she and Cass had practiced until Lucy felt as if her ribs might crack. She was prepared. Gulp. She hoped.