1
London, 1828
* * *
There was nothing worse than living in fear, Louise mused while sticking comfortably to the edge of the ballroom. And yet, this was precisely what she’d been doing for most of her life.
Every day when she awoke, she prepared to face the possibility of drawing attention for the wrong reason, of being mocked for her inferiority, and of having to recognize she was a failure. All of which were directly tied to her greatest terror of all – of one day waking and not being able to see. Again. And of the pain this would lead to, not just emotionally, but physically as well.
Because she remembered.
The couching.
Even though she wished she didn’t, since not remembering might have allowed her to live a more normal life – one in which she’d not be burdened by constant anxiety. She had been seven the first time her eyes were couched by a doctor in order to fix the blurry vision she’d had since birth. At thirteen, the procedure was repeated. Then again when she was seventeen.
Apparently there was no guarantee the result would last.
A shudder raked her spine at the memory of it. No one wanted to be restrained while a doctor inserted a needle into one’s eye so he could push the ruined lens out of the way. It was unbearably painful. So much so she’d decided never to have another operation unless it was absolutely necessary.
Consequently, she’d not told her parents when she’d lost her sight in the right eye at the age of sixteen. It had happened during a game of shuttlecock when the hard end of the birdie struck the side of her head. Although the effect had been immediate, she’d told everyone she was fine. After all, she’d still been able to see with her left eye, provided she used her spectacles.
Unfortunately, her reprieve from surgery had been short-lived. When her left lens had unexpectedly shifted a few months later, she’d had both eyes couched again. As luck would have it, she now faced the same risk once more – her left eye had failed a few weeks earlier.
Thus the fear. Not only of the pain and discomfort, but of when and where disaster might strike.
Last time, she’d been at a musicale. Her least favorite people in the world, Miss Rebecca Bowes, Miss Nicole Frazier, and the Earl of Croft’s daughter, Lady Deidre Brackenbridge, had been in attendance as well, and as usual, they’d sought her out for the purpose of telling her something unkind. In this case, it had pertained to the spots on her forehead. They’d been a nuisance for her at that age.
“You look rather blotchy this evening,” Lady Deidre had said while Miss Bowes and Miss Frazier both snickered. “I do hope you’re not ill.”
Of course, the three awful women were blessed with perfect complexions. Life was unfair that way.
Determined to hide her mortification so she wouldn’t look weak, Louise had raised her chin and forced a smile. “Perhaps you should keep your distance from me then. Just to be safe.”
Lady Deidre had grimaced. “Poor thing. It can’t be easy knowing you’ve no chance of marrying well.”
The remark prompted Louise to glance across at Mr. Nigel Fairbanks, a handsome gentleman she’d taken a fancy to the previous year when he’d asked her to dance at her coming out ball. Since then, her feelings for him had been steadily growing. Unfortunately, nothing escaped Lady Deidre’s notice. She’d instantly laughed. “Good heavens. You really do aim for the impossible, don’t you?”
“Well, it’s better than…than…” Unable to think of anything clever to add, Louise had clamped her mouth shut and glared at Lady Deidre before turning away. Her intention had been to locate her seat, but then her eyesight had unexpectedly failed and she’d tripped over something. One second later she’d been sprawled on the floor while laughter echoed behind her. Lady Deidre and her friends had found the incident very amusing.
Since then, Louise stayed close to her family during social functions – particularly to her siblings. All were older than she and happily married. Albert, Viscount Linton, to Diana Winterly, Kimberly to Viscount Laringsby, and Helen to the Earl of Fenwick.
Presently, Louise stood with her sisters and surveyed the Redding ballroom. It was filled to capacity by London’s elite, all dressed in their evening finery. Gowns cut from silk shimmered in response to the candlelight while gemstones sparkled and crystal beads winked. Louise herself had elected to wear one of her favorite dresses. Fashioned from a watery turquoise, it complimented her dark brown hair and eyes. A nearby refreshment table offered iced cakes and trays piled high with triangular sandwiches. Musicians placed on the opposite side of the room slid their bows across the strings of their violins, filling the air with harmonious notes in accompaniment of the quadrille currently underway.
“He’s dancing at the moment,” Kimberly told her.
“Who is?” Louise asked with every intention of feigning ignorance.
Kimberly snorted and shook her head. “The same man you look for at every social function. Mr. Fairbanks, of course.”
“Why don’t you go and talk to him?” Helen asked.
Louise sighed. “Because whenever I am in Mr. Fairbanks’ presence, I either forget how to speak or say something foolish.” When he’d helped her up at the musicale three years earlier, she’d forgotten to thank him. Instead she’d remarked on his scent, since this had been the first clue she’d had of the man who’d come to her aid. He’d chuckled and voiced his appreciation, but her mortification had been complete.
“Didn’t he ask you to dance at your coming out ball?” Helen asked.
“He did,” Louise admitted, her heart fluttering slightly at the memory. The dance had brought him to her attention, but it was the help he’d given her when she’d been in distress that had caused her to fall completely in love with him.
“Well there you are,” Kimberly said. “I’m sure he’d treat you kindly if you were to strike up a conversation with him.”
Louise’s stomach twisted in that nervous way it always did whenever she thought of stepping out of her element. “I don’t believe he thinks of me in the same way I think of him. If he did, he’d surely have asked me to dance again since.”
“Do you honestly think so?” Helen asked. “When you’re known to turn everyone down?”
Her sister did have a point. After the musicale incident, Louise was wary of walking onto a dance floor because what if she suddenly lost her sight again in the midst of a reel? What if she crashed into other dancers or tripped and fell to the floor? She’d make an even bigger spectacle of herself then – the sort she feared she’d never live down.
“If you want to marry,” Kimberly said, “you’ll have to accept the attentions of men.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Louise murmured, taking an instinctive step backward. She’d still not forgotten the comment Lady Deidre had made. Worst of all, Louise didn’t think she’d been wrong to question Louise’s ability to make a good match.
Yet another reason for hesitation.
“And if the man you choose to marry cares for you, he’ll overlook your need for spectacles,” Helen added.