9Chapter Two
June 24th, 1888;
Lucien lay in his massive feather bed, the sheets and coverlet wrapped around his body in an uncomfortable way. Sighing, he sat up and looked around the room, curious as to why his body awoke him; he could heard the sounds of the house staff cleaning which gave him indication that the sun had not set yet.
He continued to listen to the noise in the house when his ears picked up on a conversation and he tuned in on it. There was a males voice, one he was unfamiliar with and William's, they were speaking down stairs in the foyer.
"I am sorry, Sir but the he is currently disposed of at the moment," William said politely.
The unfamiliar voice replied, "I've come to deliver a message from the Duchess of Wellington."
Lucien groaned, he had hoped to avoid publicity within the social circle of London. With publicity came unwanted attention and he really did not need that at the moment. "I will make sure he receives Her Graces' message. Good evening, Sir."
He heard footfalls before the front door closed and the houses cleaning bustle continued on and Lucien sat there thinking about what the Duchess would want with him. He'd been in London no more than two weeks and he hadn't received a social call or anything of the sort. The only people he had spoken to were his house staff, and when he had first arrived a few people in town that he could barely remember now.
As if all of the sudden, an idea as to why she sent him a letter came to mind. "Of course," he muttered to himself as he stood to get ready for the evening ahead, "The London Season is starting."
It was no secret that he was a bachelor and a wealthy one at that, being the rightful 3rd Duke of Angoulême. He groaned, knowing that no matter if he went or not staying here would cause trouble and leaving suddenly would rise suspicion.
As he pulled on his trousers a knock sounded on his door, "Master Gautier?" an elderly man's voice called from the other side of the door.
"You may enter William." Lucien said in reply as he retrieved a simple white shirt and began to button it; deciding that he didn't need to dress anymore. He didn't bother with the pesky cravat or waistcoat or the heavy frock coat while inside his estate and he did not intend to receive anyone else that night. "What is it you what?"
William cleared his throat slightly before speaking, "Her Grace Dutchess of Wellington has sent you a letter. It is in your sitting room."
"Thank you, William. Is there anything else?" Lucien asked as he donned stockings and boots.
"Yes Sir, what would you like for supper."
Lucien shook his head, "It does not really matter to me. Whatever the cook feels like making, I will eat it." He went over to the washing basin and rinsed his face quickly before patting it dry with a small hand towel located next to the basin.
"Alright, Sir." William left the room and Lucien followed, closing the door to his private chamber before heading down the hall to his study. Upon entering, he saw that several gas lamps were lite throughout the room, casting it in orange light.
He walked over to his moderately sized desk and sat at it, picking up the letter that had a wax seal with the Duchess' mark on it. Lucien carefully opened the letter and began to read.
Dear Mr. Gautier, Duke of Angoulême,
As you might be aware, the London Season is starting and I would like to invite you to the first ball. Word of you has traveled around London quicker than one would have expected and many are curious as to why you have been hiding inside your home. I am giving you a chance to come out and see the city and also, for the women who have their eyes on you, to be formally let down. I expect to see you at my estate on the twenty-eighth of June and I do apologize for the brevity of this letter.
Sincerely,
Eleanor Blyth, Duchess of Wellington
Lucien was astonished by the way this woman sounded in the letter, he'd never been addressed in such a way and it shocked him. It shocked him even more that she expected him to show up for her soirée in four days, which meant he didn't have time to formulate a brilliant way of avoiding it.
Taking out a piece of parchment, and dipping his quill and the bottle of ink he began his reply.
Dear Her Grace, Duchess of Wellington,
I accept your invitation and will attend your social party. I would request you keep my attendance a secret until the day of, I do not wish for Mother's - whose attention I've caught - to be plotting to toss their daughters at me. It would be much appreciated. The brevity of your letter is nothing to be sorry for.
Sincerely,
Lucien Gautier, Duke of Angoulême
He quickly sealed the letter with wax and pressed his family's seal into it, before summoning his footman. He requested that the man bring the Duchess the letter and the man quickly left. As the man left Lucien hoped he wouldn't regret guaranteeing he would attend the Ball, and praying to God that He would not let anything unfortunate happen.