Caught in the Storm of a Duke's - Abby Ayles Page 0,108

They didn’t have the chance to talk very much, as the dance demanded much concentration, but Annette enjoyed the joyful expression in Lord Huddington’s eyes.

When the dance was over, Lord Huddington smiled at her. “You are an exquisite dancer, Lady Annette.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“I do hope to see you again soon. Are you here for the whole season?”

“Indeed, I am. My mother already has several more parties and balls lined up for this week.”

“Then I have no doubt we will meet again soon.” He smiled and bowed to her. “Good evening, Lady Annette.” With that, he merged back into the crowd.

The night passed in a flurry of people, laughter, talking, and dancing. Two more gentlemen asked her to dance and she enjoyed their company, as well. Everyone seemed to have flawless manners and joyful attitudes. Annette truly enjoyed herself.

She met many young ladies she thought she could form acquaintances with. Julia introduced her to several of her own friends, all kind and lighthearted. It seemed like both an eternity and no time at all before Annette and her mother were once again in the carriage and returning to the townhouse.

Annette related everything that had happened and all the people she had met. Her mother listened attentively, nodding and making comments, or asking questions when necessary. Eventually, Annette sat back and sighed. She knew she would sleep well that night. It had been a long day, but a good one.

“What about young Lord Huddington?” her mother asked, once Annette had finished recounting the events. “He seemed rather smitten when he asked you to dance.”

“Did he?”

Annette thought back to the young man and recalled his joyful smile and the energy in his eyes. He seemed like the type of person who would be like that around anyone. “I didn’t notice him pay me any particular attention, other than asking me to dance.”

Her mother chuckled. “Annette, I fear that while you excel in many things, you may not be as good at reading people as you think. Trust me, my dear, I saw that look on his face. He looked quite taken with you. And even once you had parted, I saw him look in your direction several times throughout the night.”

“Oh.” Annette considered what that meant. Had she already found a suitor? Could this be the man she was going to marry?

Her mother laughed. “As I said, Annette, you will be betrothed by the end of the season. You already have an earl who is taken with you!”

“Mother,” Annette said, finding the idea a little overwhelming. She didn’t want to rush things; it was only the first ball. “I want to love a man before I marry him. Looks from across a ballroom don’t mean anything.”

“You’re absolutely right, Annette. I’m not suggesting you rush anything. Love comes from spending time with someone, and, as you said, looks mean nothing. Even one dance, or a single night at a ball, won’t create love. But once you spend time with someone and talk, that will allow love to grow. You must give a gentleman a chance to woo you, just as your father did me.”

“Tell the story again, Mama, please.” She had heard it at least a hundred times, but it never got old. She made herself comfortable in her seat and watched her mother’s face. She smiled down at Annette.

“No doubt you know it so well that you could tell it just as well as I.”

“But I love to hear you tell the story and see the look in your eyes when you talk about Father. Please?”

Her mother chuckled. “Very well. I was nineteen years old—the same age you are now. I was living in France, where I grew up, and my parents, being highly respected members of society, took me to lots of parties and balls, though I was never fond of balls when I was younger. I always found them rather stuffy and too full of nonsensical people. I was almost always in bad spirits when my parents forced me to go to one—not to mention that French gown styles are more uncomfortable than English ones.”

Annette chuckled at the way her mother spoke animatedly and freely.

“But one day, I was forced by my parents to go to yet another ball. I tried to be polite, as my parents were keeping a watchful eye on me. I danced with several gentlemen; there were many Frenchmen who sought my hand. But then I met this silly Englishman who still looked like a boy.