Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(125)

“Oh, don’t you pretend with me, Miss Danser. You know exactly what I mean.” Angela tried to sound cross, but her smile could not be kept down.

Bliss pushed her own cheeks higher, hoping the strain did not show. “Lady Perse’s tea invitation? But why would I be wanting one of those? You know I’ve no interest in marriage.” Oh, if only that were true.

“You don’t fool me, Bliss. I saw you watching Miss Samson.”

Blast. Angela knew her far too well. “I was just amazed at how happy she looked. She’s never still, but I’ve never before seen her quivering with emotion. I am surprised all the crystal within ten feet of her didn’t shatter.”

“You’re the only one I know who can accomplish that feat.” Angela wrinkled her nose.

“It was only once and you know very well it was because I’d tried to sew coins onto my dress so I’d look like a gypsy. I never imagined that they’d all go flying off when I twirled. Can I help it if I like to twirl?”

“Don’t try to distract me. I saw you watching Miss Samson and it wasn’t merely interest that I saw cross your face. It was envy.”

Bliss tried again. She was not yet ready to admit to her own desires. “Maybe I simply wanted her dress.”

“Bliss. I know you too well, and besides her dress is the color of tangerine and has more ruffles than a bird has feathers.”

“Fine. Yes, I was watching her, and yes, it upset me to see that she’d received an invitation.”

“I don’t see why it should bother you to admit that. Every unmarried woman here dreams of receiving an invitation to one of Lady Perse’s teas. We all want a love match and nobody manages those as well as Lady Perse.”

Bliss pulled in a long, deep breath and released it slowly. “But I’ve never wanted to marry. You know that.” She might want many things, things she did not understand, but marriage was not one of them.

It was Angela’s turn to sigh. “I know you’ve always said that, but you were a girl then. You are a woman now.”

“And what difference should that make? Are you rolling your eyes at me?”

“Yes I am, my dear Miss Danser. It is a woman’s job to marry. You know that as well as I.”

Bliss hated that sentiment. Why should it be a woman’s lot to marry? Men weren’t expected to—well, unless they were heir to a title; that was altogether different. Plus, even if they were expected to marry, marriage didn’t necessarily change anything in their lives. Men seemed to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Wanted. Why did it always come back to that one word? She had wants, wants that seemed unlikely to ever be met.

“Don’t you glare at me like that, Bliss,” Angela added. “I didn’t make the rules and it’s not my fault if I actually like them. I’ve always wanted to marry and have children. From the time we were small I’ve wanted to be a mother.”

That was true. Angela had never been content with one doll or even two. She’d had half a dozen, and even then she’d pretend all the kittens in the scullery were babies as well. “I know. I don’t blame you. I’ve simply never felt the same. I don’t even like babies.” Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She did rather like cuddling a newborn, and there was nothing to compare with the feeling of soft baby fuzz beneath her chin, but that was only true if the baby in question belonged to someone else. She certainly had no desire for one of her own. The thought made her shudder.

“Then why are you here and why do you look so upset at the thought of not getting an invitation?” Angela pressed, having no intention of letting the matter drop.

Bliss lowered her eyes and stared down at her delicate green slippers. They were new and she adored everything about them, from the delicate pearls sewn about the toes in a floral pattern to the silver embroidery that formed the leaves beneath the flowers. And the heels. They had the sweetest little heels, with a small stripe of silver just above the floor. They were the most wondrous shoes she’d ever had. It was far better to think about slippers than anything else in her life.

“Do you like my slippers?” She held out a toe. “I am thinking about asking father to get me a pair in blue.”

Angela glanced down. “They are lovely, and compliment the rose silk of your gown wonderfully. They bring out the lavender undertones of the silk and … Bliss, you will not distract me. You will not. Why do you want an invitation if you still don’t want a husband?”

Closing her eyes, Bliss stared at the backs of her own eyelids. She did not wish to think about this. She did not. “I don’t want to get married. I need to get married.”

“Explain.” Angela lowered her voice and stepped closer, her breath brushing against Bliss’s cheek.

“My brother is ready to marry me to Lord Duldon. Swanston believes it would be a good thing for me.” She lifted her head and stared at her friend. The words hurt as they slipped through her lips, each one cutting like a sheet of paper slicing one’s thumb. Against her will a picture of Duldon formed, tall and brooding, his dark blond hair shining in the sunlight. Even in her mind, however, he looked disapproving, his blue eyes glinting at her as if he knew all her secrets, all her forbidden thoughts.

“Your brother would never do that. He knows you don’t like Dull-Don.”