His Chosen, for she was First

Chapter 2

London

1706

Jaclyn

Our cousin Lisset is, I dare say, the most alluring woman in all of London; everyone sighs as she passes. She possesses everything a man would seek on this earthly plane: her skin is as white as snow, and her hair is of a red so vibrant that anyone would swear she applies some ointment to achieve it. It is an almost unique hue that perfectly evokes a beautiful summer sunset. Freckles dust her cheeks, and her blue eyes lend her an exotic touch. She and Gabriella are, without a doubt, the most beautiful in our group.

Despite being wed, Lisset enjoys many freedoms. Everyone here knows of the dalliances she commits with other men behind her husband’s back. It is unseemly conduct, but she would prefer to call it passion.

I notice that she is already weighing in her mind the odds she might have with that mysterious duke. Even if only for mere pastime, I know full well that no man can resist the charms of that redhead.

—Have I told you all that he is unwed, and that both gentlemen share the same age? Gossip has it that they are near thirty and have arrived in search of a wife —Natasha exclaims, ending her sentence with a longing sigh.

We all laugh at her reaction. At times, she is so childish and innocent that her height seems a mere courtesy!

—What are you all laughing at? —She raises a brow in mock vexation. I have always favored older men.

We burst into laughter once more, and she ultimately joins our merriment.

—You favor every gentleman, Natasha —Gabi chides her in a jesting tone.

And it is an undeniable truth: Naty sighs for every single gentleman. Indeed, she will find it difficult to choose but one.

—Mother, Mother! —My little girl’s joyful shrieks cause us to turn around in unison.

She runs into the library and lifts her small hands the moment she reaches my side. I lift her and settle her upon my lap. All my friends dote upon her exceedingly, so the remainder of our afternoon passes with her as the absolute center of attention.

Nightfall descends like a dark mantle over the entire capital of the kingdom.

The ball that inaugurates the social season will take place at the residence of the Dowager Duchess, Vanessa Kingsleigh, an elderly widow who possesses no finer pastime than to amuse herself by watching the marriageable young ladies take their first steps in society.

The reflection in the grand mirror of my chamber returns my gaze. My hair, of a very light chestnut hue, is pinned half-up upon my head and adorned with precious pearls; the other half falls completely straight down to my hips. My blue eyes stand out beneath the subtle layer of cosmetics I wear, and my cheeks appear truly flushed.

I welcome giving them color with that powder, for otherwise, I would resemble a living corpse due to my extreme paleness. I inwardly thank Nicole for her painstaking arrangements. At that moment, I spy my sister entering the room in her exquisite gown.

The garment fully enhances her curvaceous silhouette. The pale pink suits her marvelously; her sky-blue eyes look at me with longing, and I know she is thrilled for tonight. It is quite the opposite in my case.

—You look exquisite, sister —she says, and I offer her a smile.

—You far more than I, Gabi —I comment, returning the compliment.

—Shall we depart?

I nod and, after bestowing a tender kiss upon my little girl, who already sleeps peacefully in our bed, we depart in our family carriage toward Apsley House, the mansion of the Dowager Duchess. My parents maintain an animated conversation with my sister during the journey, but my mind wanders back to the night of my own debut and how blissful I was in those moments.

Blissful for the number of gentlemen who requested my hand for a dance, and blissful because it was my first ball with the father of my daughter. I gently wipe away a fleeting tear that steals down my cheek, ensuring that no one notices. How unjust life has been to me!

Upon arrival, my parents are the first to alight from the carriage. Gabi and I remain alone. I look at her expectantly, for it is only now that I perceive how nervous she is. I am anxious as well; years have passed since I gave birth, confined within those walls, and to step out before everyone today with my chin held high demands a great effort from me. Nevertheless, she concerns me more; this is her night, and she must not fret over anything.

I take her hands, and her eyes, which were previously lost upon the carriage floor, finally fix upon me.

—Everything will turn out well, Gabi —I comfort her, noting how she tenses.

—And what if I do not please them? What if no one desires to dance with me?

I laugh softly at the foolishness she has just uttered.

—Do not be silly! You know well that such a thing will never happen. Many gentlemen were anxious for you to be finally presented in society. They sent you letters of courtship even before your debut. —I offer her a tight embrace—. Now look at me and promise me that during this season, you will do things right; promise me that you will commit no madness like the one I committed.

Her eyes begin to glass over, just as mine do.

—Why do I feel as though this were a farewell, Jac? —Her voice is barely a whisper; I know she is on the verge of tears.

—Promise me, Gabi —I demand of her.

—I promise you, sister —she answers at last.

We part, and I place a tender kiss upon her cheek.

—Now go, step out and enjoy your night. Tonight, you, and you alone, shall stand out as the most coveted young lady of the season.

And so it transpires indeed: the eyes of everyone fix upon her, and I can do nothing but rejoice. I hope she chooses wisely and does not end up destroying her future, as I did. My parents could not endure another such blow. It is true that when one falls in love, one loses all direction, but I pray she finds someone who respects and values her enough to wait until marriage, as God ordains. She deserves to be happy, and for that, she must wed a good gentleman.

I observe my parents dancing and conversing with other aristocrats; Lisset and Meredith dance with their respective husbands, and Naty does so with gentlemen in an attitude of courtship.

I walk through the ballroom feeling somewhat melancholy; it is the first ball I have attended since that event occurred. I still perceive many impertinent stares directed at me, and I have had to endure a poisonous comment or two from several ladies whom, out of mere courtesy, I had to greet. It is for this reason that I decided to head toward the refreshment table.

No one will notice if I partake of some spirits; everyone is occupied contemplating the couples dancing the minuets or engrossed in their chatter. In short, no one is paying me any mind.

What does it matter anyway!

I reach the libations table and notice that only gentlemen loiter several paces away, for few ladies deign to sample alcohol at balls. They are all concentrated on gossiping with their friends, seeking an advantageous match for their daughters, or dancing with their husbands. I, by contrast, fit into none of those groups. After verifying for the umpteenth time that no one notices my presence, I reach out and take a glass of whiskey. I bring it to my lips, and the bitter liquid flows down my throat. I drain it all in a single gulp.

I wrinkle my face at the burning sensation.

Suddenly, a masculine presence settles right by my side. A hand clad in an elegant sleeve reaches for one of the glasses before me, of the very same kind as mine.

—It is unseemly for a lady to linger at the same table alongside so many gentlemen, let alone to partake of spirits in the midst of the evening —a hoarse voice declares.