Secret Desires of A Marquess (Secret Desires #1) ON HIATUS

Chapter Two

"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Miss Clarice Jennings spotted her best friend sitting near the refreshment table when she companied her aunt, the Baroness Kingsley to Almack's. While Lady Kingsley excused herself to talk with the matrons, Clarice made her way to her friend who looked rather irritated than bored.

"Dione," she said.

Dionysia turned to see her best friend staring at her and asked, "Where you dragged as well?"

Clarice shook her head as if to say no, and sat beside her friend. "Where you?" she inquired Dionysia

Dionysia nodded and sighed, "Mama says that I will have a strong chance for proposal if I attend every social event."

"Is Annette here?"

Dionysia scowled, marring her pretty face and said, "Annette feign poor health and got away with staying at home."

"Well," said Clarice cheerfully, "I'm here and you shan't be bored."

Dionysia beamed at her, and said, sighing, "I wish Rose was here."

Their friend, Lady Rosalie Fairchild had married last year to her childhood sweetheart, Drake Pierce, Duke of Scondale. Their nuptials had stirred the gossips and no one could believe that the Duke of Scondale would marry a deaf girl. Which was rather irritating. Just because Rose couldn't hear didn't mean the girl had no wits. Her wits were quite intact, and as much as Dionysia was happy for her friend, who now resided in Derbyshire with her husband and newborn son, Rose was dearly missed. Her silent comfort was no longer there.

"I wish it too," said Clarice, then scanning the room, she added, "And the Duke of Hartwell isn't here."

"What?" Dionysia snapped, her attention turning to the ballroom floor. Clarice was correct. Amongst the gentleman and ladies mingling around the dance floor, the Duke was nowhere in sight. Drat! What was point in coming here then?

"Nor is the Marquess of Rothsbey," said Clarice.

Dionysia blushed to the mere mention of Lord Rothsbey's name, and averting her eyes downward to the floor, she coughed dramatically and said, "whyever did you bring him about?"

But Clarice narrowed her violet eyes knowing, and she said, "Is there something you're not telling me, dear?"

"Me? What, No!" Dionysia said in denial. But Clarice knew better and she coughed.

"You're lying," said Clarice, "And you are awfully terrible at it."

"Well," said Dionysia, rather embarrassed, as she began to confess. "It is a matter concerning Lord Rothsbey--,"

Clarice now placed her full attention on Dionysia

"During the ball yesterday, he...." She trailed. Blast it! To mention the kiss was so damn difficult to bring up.

"He-we-kissed," she blurted in a defeated tone and was well aware that her fact her face was red as a tomato.

Clarice's eyes widened, "Good God, was it your first?"

Mutely, Dionysia nodded.

"With Lord Rothsbey?" Clarice asked, astonished. "I thought you wanted your first to be with His Grace."

"I guess things don't go as planned," muttered Dionysia

Clarice looked rather intrigued by the fact that Dionysia had kissed Lord Rothsbey rather than the Duke of Hartwell, so as a natural curious girl she was, Clarice asked, "Was it good?"