“What brought who here?”
“The Duke of Windhill, My Lord. He’s here. He’s asking to see you.”
Isabella’s stomach dropped.
She had known that her lie would come out, of course, but she hadn’t guessed it would happen quite this soon.
“The Duke!” Rosalind struggled out of bed. “I’d better come too, Father.”
“Yes, do,” their father said. “Isabella—help her dress. Quickly. And meet us downstairs in the sitting room.”
He hurried out of the room.
Isabella turned to her half-sister to help her into a gown, knowing that she had created trouble for herself. The only question now was, how bad was it going to be?
CHAPTER 3
Arthur Desmond might have been the Duke of Windhill, but right now, he didn’t feel like it. A duke ought to be commanding. He ought to be in control of a situation. That was what Arthur’s father had taught him when he was growing up. That was why, ever since his parents’ deaths all those years ago, Arthur had worked hard and done all he could to set matters right. He had tried to find the man responsible for the murders so that he could take his revenge. So far, he had been unsuccessful in that.
Arthur did not like surprises.
Hearing the rumor that he was engaged to marry had certainly been a surprise and a displeasing one at that. Arthur had no time for marriage.
But as he had stewed on the fact that someone was claiming to be his betrothed, it had occurred to him that this might be an opportunity. This might be his chance to obtain a marriagewithout having to do any of the work that ordinarily went into a courtship.
And so, he was here, sitting opposite the Viscount of Cliffrows, who was obviously beyond excited to be in his presence.
“Your Grace,” the Viscount said, beaming happily, “thank you for visiting with us today. What brings you here?”
There was no sense in beating around the bush. “I’m here to claim my bride,” Arthur said.
It was blunt, he knew, and very forward. But then, she had been telling people that they were engaged. That was what he’d been told by that gossipy Miss Ginger. And if that was the case, she could hardly complain about it now.
Lord Cliffrows looked stunned. “You’re—you’re here for a bride?”
“Oh, Father!” The young lady behind him lit up with excitement. “Just imagine—me, a duchess!”
Arthur looked at her. “Who are you?” The lady he was looking at didn’t match the description he had been given. He had been told to expect someone with dark hair and a mole on her cheek—anuglymole, Miss Ginger had said righteously. But the lady he was looking at now was fair-haired and plump with ruddy cheeks that contained no moles.
“This is my daughter, Your Grace,” Lord Cliffrows explained. “Miss Rosalind. Of course, she’ll be thrilled to be your bride! Neither of us knew that you were searching for a marriage, but we’re so honored that you chose to come here.”
“Miss Rosalind?” Arthur frowned. “No, this isn’t the lady I’ve come for. I’m looking for Miss Isabella.”
Miss Rosalind gasped. A look of fury crossed her face. “Isabella? You don’t wanther, Your Grace.”
“According to everyone in town, she and I are engaged to be married,” Arthur said. “I had to meet the lady who has apparently so captured my heart. If we are to wed, it seems only right that I should know who she is—don’t you think?”
“Oh my—” The Viscount’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment and anger. “Isabella! I know you’re listening outside the door! You had better get in here and explain yourself at once!”
There was a pause in which nothing happened. For a moment, Arthur wondered whether Lord Cliffrows was wrong, and Miss Isabella wasn’t outside the door at all.
And then she came into the room.
He knew at once that this was the lady he’d come to meet. She fit the physical description. Or rather, she sort of fit it. She was slender with the dark hair he’d been told to expect, and she did indeed have a mole on her cheek. But Miss Ginger had told himagain and again how ugly she was, and that wasn’t true at all. His eye did go to the mole on her face, but he found it distinctive, not ugly. It was an interesting feature to look at, and he didn’t mind it at all.
And as for the rest of her appearance—well, if he was being honest, he found her rather lovely. She had big green eyes with long lashes, soft, pale skin, and high cheekbones. He thought she was very appealing.
She’d do,he thought to himself.If I decide to take a wife, she wouldn’t be a bad one at all. I would be able to take her out in public, and people would admire her and think well of me for having found someone so lovely to marry.
