Revealing Ruby (Bound and Determined #1.5)(31)
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. Marriage led to heartache and loss. And a love match only more so. She already knew the pain that love could bring.
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. And we all want love. It is in our nature.”
Bliss hated that sentiment. Why should it be a woman’s lot to marry? A man wasn’t expected to—well unless he was the heir to a title, then that was altogether different. Plus, even if he was expected to marry, marriage didn’t necessarily change anything in his life. Men seemed to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Want. Why did it always come back to that one word? She had wants, wants that seemed unlikely to ever be met. She wanted to travel the globe. She wanted to race a horse to Richmond and back. She wanted to attend a salon and drink champagne and discuss risqué art in scandalous company. She wanted to kiss and feel and…Blast, she couldn’t even think those thoughts in her own mind, they were so improper, so…It was so unfair being born a woman and even more so to be raised a lady. A lady was not supposed to want.
She bit down on her lip again, relishing the pain. It helped her to set aside all the things she would never be allowed to do, allowed to want—all the things she could never admit even to Angela.
“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 rather did 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 was much happier on her own.
“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. Thinking of anything else was far better. “I don’t want to get married. I need to get married.”
“What do you mean?” Angela lowered her voice and stepped closer, her breath brushing against Bliss’s cheek.
“My brother plans to marry me off to Lord Duldon.” She closed her eyes again as she said his name, pretended she was not imagining stark blue eyes staring at her from across a room. “Swanston believes it would be a good match for me.” Lifting her head, she 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 that forbidden image of Duldon formed, tall and brooding, his dark blond hair shining in the sunlight, and those clear eyes staring at her, watching her, always watching her. A small shiver eased through her as she pictured him. Even in her mind he saw right through her, 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.”
“Don’t call him that.” The words were out before she could pull them back. Why could she not clear him from her mind? Why did he linger there, a tall, hard figure of a man, wide muscled shoulders and narrow hips, with high proud cheekbones and those eyes, eyes that seemed to follow her always. Shaking the thought away, betraying a moment of emotion, she paused. Why was she defending the man? It was true that she didn’t like him, not anymore. He always made her feel uncomfortable, like butterflies were brushing her with their wings—all over.
“It’s your name for him,” Angela replied, defensive.
“Yes, but that was years ago. I should never have told you,” Bliss said, tapping her foot nervously. If only the man really was dull. She’d worked hard to persuade herself that he was, to forget what she’d seen, to forget the images that still came to her in the late hours of the night, the images that filled her with pain—and with something else, something she tried so hard to ignore, to put aside. It was far better to pretend that Duldon was dull, to pretend that was why she disliked him.