“Now the servants’ quarters are being cleaned out so you may have a full staff under your command, and oh!” Liza grinned. “His Grace left written instructions for you to decorate and put the rooms to use any way you please! And his coachman is to pick you up at three o’clock for you to select your wedding present.”
He remembers that I want a cat. Angelica’s heart bloomed with love. Her breath caught in amazement as she realized that somewhere in their encounters over the past few months she had fallen in love with him. Unlike all her previous suitors, Ian looked at her as a human being with thoughts and feelings of her own. He did not talk to her in that condescending manner in which most men did. Instead, he answered any question she had with a patient respect that urged Angelica to treat him likewise. And… his fathomless charm, breath-stealing good looks, and melting kisses didn’t go amiss, either.
I am in love with a vampire, she mused. How delightful for a gothic authoress!
She bolted out of bed in excitement, running to the adjoining room to throw open her wardrobe. “What shall I wear today, Liza? Something befitting a duchess…”
Suddenly intimidated by her raised position in society, Angelica lifted her chin, silently vowing to make Ian proud of her. She longed to be the best duchess he’d ever seen.
Liza beamed. “Madame DuPuis and her seamstresses will be here at six o’clock to measure you for your new wardrobe.”
Fighting back an irritated groan at yet another forthcoming interruption to her time with Ian, Angelica replied, “I see now that married life will be busier than I imagined.”
In a few minutes, she was attired in a jaunty, blue-striped carriage dress, holding a blue bonnet with one hand and a pair of white wrist-length kid gloves in the other. The place between her legs ached as she moved, but the soreness was pleasing, for it brought back memories of Ian’s passionate lovemaking.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Liza said as they headed downstairs. “His Grace wants to you to hold a ball in honor of your marriage in a fortnight.”
“Bloody hell,” Angelica grumbled in dismay. “I do not know the first thing about how to organize a party. I completely dozed off whenever Mother prattled on about seating arrangements and meal courses.” Now she wished she’d listened to Margaret more often.
Liza gave her a sympathetic smile. “Then you’ll have to ask her for help.”
“I suppose I will.” Her mother had dreamed of throwing a grand-scale ball ever since Angelica could remember. “She will be very pleased, I’d wager.”
The change in Angelica’s status sank in further as every servant she came across greeted her with bows and curtsies, addressing her reverently as “Your Grace.”
These servants were hers, not her mother’s. The realization was liberating, albeit somewhat daunting.
The new Duchess of Burnrath spent a delightful hour learning their names and positions, realizing that they were efficient enough to not need her supervision in cleaning the house. On impulse, she decided to order new black and silver livery for the footmen. She placed the order with the butler, Burke, before she set off to explore the house.
She was politely shooed from most of the rooms, but when Angelica entered the library, she refused to budge. The massive chamber of literary treasures was more beautiful than she remembered. The morning light gleamed on every polished mahogany surface, and the smell of paper, parchment, and polish delighted her senses.
Angelica scanned the titles and was delighted to find the works of Catherine Macaulay and Mary Wollstonecraft right alongside the works of Voltaire and Horace. Jane Austen shared a shelf with Shakespeare and Mary Shelley, and John Keats resided with Percy Shelley and Lord Byron. There were also many titles in French, German, and countless other languages. It would take an eternity and a vast education to read them all… and when Ian Changed her, she would.
She looked around, noticing that the servants had left her alone. With one last guilty peek over her shoulder, she leaped onto the wheeled ladder with a whoop of joy. The wheels were well lubricated, and a push of her boot sent her gliding across the room. One hand grasped the ladder, while the other was clasped over her lips to muffle her giddy laughter.
Something on the table caught her eye. Angelica jumped down from the ladder and approached the slab of dark wood. Next to a bouquet of roses newly placed in a vase of Venetian glass lay a book.