The Seductress' Marriage Ploy

15. Balls And Gowns

THE FIRST THING JULIA heard when she entered the drawing-room was her mother shrieking. What could be amiss now, she thought? As soon as Ophelia saw her she rushed over to her side.

"I daresay Julia, Amelia Oakley is engaged! Ophelia squealed.

Julia, who was still confused, croaked out. "If so, I am happy for her."

"Happy for her!" Ophelia cried. "You do not understand the gravity of the situation!"

"If you so much as enlighten me, am sure I would know."

"She just got engaged to the Duke of Somerfort!"

When Julia still made no move to say anything, Ophelia shouted, "The duke of  Somerfort!" As if it was supposed to ring a bell. "Do you even know what you have done?"

"Me?" Julia queried. "How is this my fault, and besides, what business of mine is this?"

"It could have been you. If only you had behaved with a little more tactics, I am sure you could have snagged the duke. Besides, don't you know his title is one of the oldest with several properties attached to that name? It could have been all yours." Ophelia breathed out. Then her expression turned into a glare. "If you didn't want it you could have at least thought about the family, your sister! How long do you think your cousin will support our expensive lifestyle before he ships me off to a cottage and marry you girls off to the highest bidder?

"Isnât that exactly the same thing you have been doing?

"Of course not!" Ophelia cried, horrified. "I have always wanted the best for you, the only difference is that I put in a lot of effort whereas you wait for fate to play its part."

"And how would you know that." Julia scoffed.

"I know. I am your mother, their has to some advantages of being older than you and this is one of them." In a gentler voice, Ophelia said, "I don't want you to end up like yourâ¦"

"Please don't finish that statement," Julia pleaded. "Don't say like my aunt Annis. If she was here right now, I am sure she would stew over this."

Ophelia huffed. "Let her." She plumped down on the chair and picked up her tea, sipping it as she peered at Julia over the rim of her cup. "I received an invitation for a ball, and I have accepted on your behalf."

"A ball?"

"Yes."

Julia was dreading balls lately. She was tiring of chasing after Wychford. It was becoming a touch notch unbearable. She wished one of them would offer for her already so she could go back to her perfectly ordered life, where everything was as she pleased. Julia was content that way. She had done everything possible to entice Wychford. She had flirted shamelessly with him, allowed his touch to linger longer than was deemed accepted. Even to the extent of enticing him with powerful gowns that hugged her at all the right places. Dipping where it was supposed to and flaring where it was supposed to.

Going to balls meant having one of her preys, never the two of them in the same place. Occasionally with Sebastian jeopardising everything and leaving her with a sour taste in her mouth.

Just last night when she was so sure she was halfway from procuring an invitation to ride at Hyde Park from the very lips of Wychfort. Sebastian had appeared out of nowhere and jeopardised everything. He whisked her away into the garden where he had assaulted her senses with his kisses. And she was ashamed to say she did nothing but stand there and accept everything he offered. 

The problem was that Sebastian would always take her unawares. Where other gentlemen would demand permission, Sebastian would take without asking, and somehow it always left her in an utterly breathless state.

Julia had longed, discovered she desired him and had acted accordingly. Fighting him was off the question. She would take what she can from him, but won't let him top her. Julia had a road map she had mapped out for herself and she intends to follow it regardless of the circumstances.

"What do you intend to wear," Ophelia's voice broke her out of her reverie.

Startled, Julia blinked. "I haven't decided yet."

Ophelia smiled. "I think I have the perfect gown for you. This one is supposed to turn you to the belle of the ball. Like it did me some years ago."

"You still have your gowns," Julia asked, surprised. "I should like to see it."

"Not just see it, you will wear it. Is about time. I think you are ready."

"Ready for what," Julia asked

"You would know when you wear it. Now come on, let's go find this gown. I can't wait to see you in it."

"I can't wait too."

After rummaging through box after box, Ophelia now held a beautiful gown in her hands. She faced Julia and lifted the gown up. "Well? What do you think?" She asked.

"I think is gorgeous, " Julia squealed. "As if it was made just for me."

Ophelia chuckled. "Probably because it was my frock. I am quite your size, you know, " she chuckled and folded the dress back.

Julia smiled and hugged her mother from the back. "Thank you, " she mumbled. Her face pressed to Ophelia's back.

Ophelia sighed. "Now don't get too emotional on me," she said, extricating Julia's hand from around her neck. "Hurry and wear it I want to see."

~~~

WHEN JULIA STEPPED into the ball, she finally understood what her mother meant by you will know when you wear it. She felt confident, powerful and beautiful. Like she could engage in anything and come out victorious. She felt a kind of feminine power she didn't know she possessed.

Her gown was made of silk. Falling down in pleats ruching, from the waist down. The silk fell in just the right fold to reveal most of the cleavage, and she wore matching high-heeled slippers that made her legs look just as long.

If she would pull this off to achieve the intended effect.  She had to utilise everything her mother has ever taught her. She has to act with grace.

Most of the occupants were already turning towards her, and she couldn't deny the pleasure she felt from watching them watch her with an astonished look.

Gentlemens flooded her side the moment she found herself a spot. Some offering to get her drink. Others vying for her attention. Beside her, Ophelia beamed like a proud mother.

In the distance, Julia could see Wychford watching her with a smouldering expression on his face. She smiled at him and it seems it was all the encouragement he needed. Wychford leaned away from a wall and started towards her. Julia smiled again, encouraging him. Fanning her self tactically. Just like her mother had taught her. Not too fast, not too slow either. Just the right touch to appear as if she was bored with everything.

Wychford reached her, his eyes straying to her cleavage and then back to her face. With a sombre expression, he took her outstretched hand and raised it to his lips. "Lady Julia, " he murmured.

"Your grace." Julia sketched a courtesy. When she faced him again, his eyes were firmly back on her face. He had a pained expression on his face, and Julia wondered why.