Chapter 2
Paris, France
November 13th, 1816
Three days later
"Here," Lawrence extended his hand to help Tiffany off the carriage. The three-day trip to Paris had been every bit as tiresome as Tiffany had expected. The ship ride was no better. Her mother had made Tiffany promise to stay in the stuffy cabin the entire journey, fearing she might be flung overboard as the ship rocked violently in the turbulent waves. The lethargic rain that splattered dully on the carriage windows made the silence between she and Lawrence simply unbearable. She had no idea why her father had kept pushing on, always impatiently insisting they sail at full speed. It was all very unlike him, who usually liked to travel in style and comfort.
Disheveled and disgruntled, Tiffany accepted Lawrence's hand without thanks. Her mother, who had just alighted from the carriage behind, ran over and furtively tried to tuck Tiffany's hair behind her ears. "You look a fright! What would Madame Laurien and her husband think of you if they saw you like this!"
"I beg you pardon. Who?" Tiffany stepped away.
"Monsieur and Madame Laurien! Goodness, darling, I can't believe you don't know them. What have I been teaching you, girl? They are the definition of fashion itself! And, you're going to love this, they have invited us to a ball tonight at their château in Paris! Isn't it great?" Her mother was grinning madly.
Tiffany looked away. She didn't have to ask. They must have accepted the invitation. Trust her parents to fill up their schedule to the brim, even after such an exhausting trip. Realization hit her. No wonder Father was in so much haste, with this stupid ball to attend tonight. Why! What she wanted now was to admire works at the Musée du Louvre, or gaze at the majesty of Cathédrale Notre Dame, or simply work on her new piece on the flute! Not another ball hosted by another pair of superficial couples who were living right in the city of romance yet lacked the intelligence to notice it! Enough was enough, she decided.
Marching up to her father, she said softly, "I refuse to go to the ball tonight. I won't, and you can't make me, Father." Without waiting for his outburst, she clambered up the stone steps, up to the comfort of her hotel room.
Downstairs, her father was exploding with rage. "That girl! She doesn't know what's good for her! A ball by the Lauriens! I would like to see how many people are willing to sacrifice their lives for that honor. I could go right up now and knock some sense into that stupid little brain of hers!" However, pride stopped him from doing just that. HE was providing her with the offer of a lifetime! She would just have to come down to him to apologize properly!
Knowing how proud both father and daughter could be, Lawrence witnessed the entire scene nervously. He, the Viscount of Bournemouth simply wasn't about to turn up at the ball of the year without a woman at his side. How insulting that would be. After all, he was a viscount.
Lawrence smoothly strode up the front stairs till he was beside the Duke. "Sir, Tiffany is a considerate person. Imagine. If she had to attend the ball to save hurting her fiancé's feelings, I believe she would. I do believe she would. What say you?"
The Duke glanced at Lawrence, and continued up the steps with his walking cane. "Just what exactly are you suggesting, boy?"
A knowing smile touched the corners of Lawrence's lips. "Don't you worry, sir. Tiffany WILL go to that ball. You can count on me for that." With a bland smile, he descended the steps, whistling, a slight jolt of absolute confidence in every movement.
"I sure hope that boy knows what he's doing," the Duke mumbled, as he found his way to the grand lobby, he was no fool to underestimate his daughter's willfulness.