BETRAYAL OF DIGNITY
Part 15
A Brewing Conflict
Once Marguerite, Chloes young handmaiden, had finished meticulously arranging her hair, Chloe rose from her seat to study her own unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.
"My lady, you are the epitome of elegance. I daresay you will outshine all the ladies in attendance today."
"Thank you," Chloe responded with a feeble smile, her eyes fixed on her reflection.
"Despite the winter sun, its rays can be harsh if one lingers beneath it for too long. Please remember to wear a hat, and choose the most resplendent one," Marguerite proposed. She seemed unusually aggressive in her preparations today, almost as though Chloe were going to war rather than attending a gathering. Word must have already spread among the servants. If Chloe had drawn their sympathy for her inevitable meeting with the Duke's paramour, would the ordeal prove to be a blessing or a source of sorrow for her?
"You should also consider wearing some jewelry, my lady," Marguerite added.
"I possess little," Chloe replied.
"My, my! With the Thisse jewels at your disposal, whatever do you mean? The other ladies will be positively green with envy!" Marguerite declared.
The tale of Chloe's midnight dash to tend to Eliza's sickly grandson had circulated among the castle staff. It was only natural that their perception of the new Duchess had begun to shift. The servants now harbored increasingly positive sentiments toward Chloe, who, while unrelenting when faced with dishonesty, still maintained her humanity.
Furthermore, rumors had spread of the new servant she had brought from her hometown. He was not only diligent but also quite the heartthrob, spurring more whispers among the young maids of Birch Castle about the new stable master.
"Marguerite, it's just an afternoon tea party, not a grand ball. Is all of this really necessary?"
"Indeed, it is, my lady." The handmaiden dressed her mistress with keen diligence, her brow furrowed in concentration.
According to The Red Veil, Lady Isabella was reputed to possess such stunning beauty that men swooned at her mere presence.
Marguerite couldn't help but worry whether the Duchess, seemingly engrossed in books and household affairs, could hold her own in the contest the assertive women were sure to initiate. After all, the battles of high society were far removed from soothing a child's fever or delegating tasks to the maids.
Chloe responded to Marguerite's veiled sigh with a wistful smile. She had contemplated feigning illness to avoid the gathering. However, she refused to appear as though she were hiding from the situation.
"My lady, the guests have arrived," announced Paul, the recently appointed butler. After respectfully greeting her, he guided her out.
Chloe rose from her seat, all traces of her prior hesitation absent. The moment had arrived to confront her husband's mistress.
* * *
"Welcome, Lady Isabella," Chloe greeted.
"Thank you..." came the Marquise's hesitant reply.
Lady Isabella appeared strikingly different from her magazine portrayals. Far from the flamboyant and haughty image invented by the tabloids, she exuded a quiet aura steeped in melancholy. Her modest black dress, encircling even her neck, further emphasized her solitary figure.
"I feared my presence might disconcert Your Grace," Isabella confessed. Beneath the wide brim of her hat and the black veil cascading down it, even her soft-spoken voice, whispered as though sharing a secret, seemed tinged with sorrow.
