Page 45 of The Duchess’ Second Chance

“Well, it’s like you said,” she told the girl. “Sampson is nicer than we originally thought him to be. I think he’ll understand the desire to have something beautiful to brighten up your room. And if he doesn’t relish the idea at first, I think I will be able to convince him.”

Rose beamed. She ran forward and flung her arms around Amanda’s waist.

It’s for her, Amanda thought, hugging her back. She’s the reason I’ve done all of this, and I can’t ever allow myself to lose sight of that.

No matter what came next, she was determined to be the perfect duchess.

CHAPTER 22

“Are you ready to go down, Your Grace?” Marie asked. She had just finished checking Amanda’s dress for the final time.

Amanda straightened her gloves and patted her hair. The truth was that she wasn’t ready at all. But there was no more putting it off. She was going to have to go down and face Sampson’s reaction, ready or not. It was time.

“I suppose so,” she said. “Marie…will you do me a favor?”

“Anything, Your Grace.”

“Will you walk with me as far as the stairs?”

It was an unorthodox request, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She felt so nervous, almost unaccountably so. It wouldn’t be the first time she was spending time with Sampson by any stretch, so why did it feel as if so much hung on what happened tonight? She didn’t think she had been this anxious even on her wedding day.

Marie smiled at her. “Of course, I’m more than happy to walk with you, Your Grace,” she said gently, opening the door.

“It’s still so odd to hear you call me that,” Amanda admitted. “I’m grateful to have someone who’s been with me since my old life. The rest of the staff only knows me as the duchess. But it does feel rather out of place every time you use that title. Do you have the same feeling?”

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Marie told her. “It’s true that you haven’t always been a duchess, and I’ve known you through a lower station in life, but the title is only words. To me, you’re the same person you always are. You’ve simply entered a new phase in your life; one I’m honored to stand beside you in.”

She couldn’t have said anything better. Amanda felt a rush of confidence. Marie was right—she was still herself. She was the same calm and capable person who had approached every challenge she’d ever faced thus far, and she had never been bested. If she could face all the other trials she had been through in her life, she could certainly manage a ball.

As promised, Marie walked her toward the stairs, but Amanda held up a hand to stop her before they arrived. She didn’t want Sampson to see that she had asked for this assistance, to realize how nervous she had been. “I’ll be all right from here,” she assured her lady’s maid. “Thank you, Marie.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Without hesitation, Marie reached out and squeezed Amanda’s shoulder. Amanda was flooded with affection. It was a familiar gesture, one that had existed between them for years. During the long months at George’s house waiting for him to come home, and then after, when she’d known he never would, Marie had been the only person other than Rose to touch Amanda at all. These few moments of contact had been a lifeline to her, and the maid’s touch was equally reassuring now.

She smiled at Marie.

“You’re ready for this, Your Grace,” Marie said softly. “Whatever happens, just remember who you are. You already know the answer to that question, no matter what the people of the ton think about it.”

The words lit a fire within Amanda.

Marie was right.

She was ready.

She turned and made her way down the stairs, keeping her head high.

When she reached the bottom, she found that Sampson was already there. He was dressed for the occasion in fine trousers and a waistcoat, and when she glanced down, she saw that his shoes were appropriate for dancing. The thought of it made her pulse flutter. Soon enough, the two of them would be on the dance floor.

She found she was looking forward to it. That was unexpected. Until today, the thought of being in his arms so publicly had made her incredibly nervous. But perhaps it would be a good thing.

Her mind flew to the other night when she had been wearing this very same gown, when he had arrived in her room and helped her to remove it, and suddenly her whole body was hot with embarrassment.

And something else. Something more pleasurable.

Sampson swallowed hard as she descended the stairs—was he nervous? Had she made him nervous with the way she looked? The idea made her pulse jump. He cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present. “Good evening,” he said. “You look lovely.”

Her fingers flew to the sapphire at her throat, her nerves fluttering. “I wanted to make sure that we made a good impression,” she murmured.

“We’ll definitely do that. No need to worry.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go? We wouldn’t want to be late and tarnish the impression that you’ve worked so hard on.”