She sought out the Duke—the man who was now her husband. He was standing in a group of gentlemen, and they were clearly talking, but he looked to her as though he would rather be anywhere else. She frowned, surprised at the sudden desire she felt to go over to him and intervene, to say something that would pull him away from the group of people he was standing with. If he didn’t desire their company, he shouldn’t have to put up with it.
But then, he had made it clear that he didn’t want her company either. He hadn’t spoken a word to her during the meal. And he ought to be standing by her side now, but he wasn’t.
“I don’t know what kind of trick you played on this man to persuade him to have you as his wife.”
She looked up. Her father was standing beside her, a scowl on his face.
“I didn’t trick him,” she said, knowing that it was the truth. “I lied about being engaged to him, and I expected him to deal angrily with me. It was his own choice to do otherwise. But I never lied to him, and I think you must know that, Father. How could I have? He could never have believed that we were engaged.”
“All I know is that it should have been Rosalind,” her father said.
“Oh, don’t say that, Father. I don’t want that old duke.”
“I know you don’t think highly of him, Rosalind, but he is still a duke,” the Viscount said.
“Maybe he is, but he’s shown himself to have terrible taste. It would reflect badly on me if he did want me now, so I’m certainly glad that he doesn’t.” She sneered at Isabella. “Who can understand why anybody would chooseher? I can’t.”
And now, there came another voice, this time from behind them, and it was one Isabella had only heard speak a few times so far. One she still didn’t know very well at all. “You think I have terrible taste, then?”
They all wheeled to see the Duke standing there.
Rosalind’s cheeks colored. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said quickly. “I only meant?—”
He held up a hand. “No, I know what you meant,” he said. “You question my ability to choose my wife successfully, isn’t that it? You think I’ve made a poor selection.”
“It’s just that I know my half-sister better than you do, Your Grace,” Rosalind said. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to demean you by saying that, but it is the truth.”
“Perhaps. It’s also true that she’s a duchess now,” the Duke said. “You owe her more respect than this. I won’t have my wifespoken to in this manner, especially not on our wedding day of all days.”
Isabella was stunned. Was he going to pretend, now, that he cared about her? After he had already made it abundantly clear that he didn’t? Did he really think anyone would believe that act?
“Your Grace,” the Viscount said, “you must forgive my daughter.”
“It isn’t just your daughter. I heard the way you spoke to my wife. I will overlook it this once, but I expect you to treat her with regard from now on because she is the Duchess of Windhill. Whatever you may think of the circumstances surrounding our marriage, the marriage itself is a fact, and I insist that it be honored.”
The Viscount nodded. Isabella couldn’t help feeling a little thrill watching the Duke put her father in his place. It was about time someone did!
He turned to her. “Are you ready to go?”
“My things…”
“They’ll be sent over for you, of course.”
She felt a surge of reluctance. Was this really it? Was she about to leave her home for the last time? This place had never been much of a home to her, of course, not really, but it had beenhers. It had been the source of all the memories of her childhood. It was where she had lived with her mother. And it was where Felicity would go on living when she was gone, on her own with no Isabella to look after her.
But this was the necessary next step if they were to have the lives Isabella wanted the two of them to have—the lives she knew her mother would have wanted for them.
And besides, the Duke was right. She was his wife now. She had come too far to turn back.
“Let me say goodbye to my sister,” she said, looking around for Felicity. “Then I’ll be ready.”
“That’s fine,” the Duke agreed. “You go and do that, then, and I’ll meet you in the foyer.”
“What a strange man,” the Viscount murmured as the Duke strode off. “Leaving before the wedding party has even ended! No wonder he’s the subject of so much gossip.”
Isabella knew her father was right. But right now, she felt very much on the Duke’s side. The party hadn’t been enjoyable.
Maybe when they got home, things would start to feel a bit better.
