There was the matter of her parentage, of course. Miss Ginger had made sure to let him know about that as well. But what difference did that make to him? He was a duke, and his wife would be a duchess. Perhaps there would be talk about who her mother had been for a few weeks, but that would be forgotten as soon as the next scandal took place. He didn’t need to worry about it. And he certainly didn’t care himself.
Lord Cliffrows rose to his feet. “Isabella, did you make up a lie and spread it around at last night’s party?” he demanded. “The Duke is here telling me that you’ve claimed to be engaged to him.”
Miss Isabella looked unabashed. It was as if her father had asked her whether she had had tea with her breakfast. “Yes,” she said, “I did that.”
Arthur had to admit, he was impressed. He hadn’t expected her to be so ready and willing to own up to the lie she had told.
Her father simply looked flabbergasted. “What—what in the world could you have been thinking?” he demanded. “You must have known that the Duke would find out what you did! You’ve disgraced yourself, and you’ve disgraced me! How could you?”
She never broke eye contact with him. “I did it for Felicity,” she said. “I did it because it brought Felicity more attention and admiration than she ever would have gotten otherwise. Everyone wanted to dance with the lady whose sister was engaged to the Duke.”
“But you’re not engaged to the Duke!” her father exclaimed. “You’ve lied, and you’ve caught His Grace up in your lies. Apologize at once.”
Arthur held up a hand. “Perhaps I might say something here?”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The Viscount fell silent at once, deferential and respectful.Obsequious,Arthur thought. He didn’t appreciate it much. He was used to people acting like this with him, and it irritated him.
“I came here to claim my bride,” he said. “I meant that. If you agree, I’d like to marry her.”
“Well now—hold on a moment,” the Viscount argued. “You can’t really mean to marryher.”
“No? Why can’t I?”
“It’s just that—well, my daughter Rosalind?—”
Arthur held up his hand again. “I’m sure Miss Rosalind will make some gentleman a lovely match, but after all, the whole ton has already heard of myengagementto Miss Isabella. I wouldn’t want to create a scandal. It’s best to keep the arrangement as it is. So, I’m here to finalize that engagement or to leave with no engagement at all. It’s up to you, Lord Cliffrows.”
“Wait a moment,” Miss Isabella objected. “I made that story up to benefit Felicity. I don’t wish to marry you, Your Grace.”
“Isabella, leave us,” Lord Cliffrows said. “You go too, Rosalind.”
“But, Father…”
“Do as I say, Rosalind! The Duke and I have things we must discuss.”
“A moment,” Arthur said. His eyes were on Miss Isabella. She looked positively furious. “Perhaps I might have a moment to discuss the matter with Miss Isabella?”
“Why would you need to do that?” Lord Cliffrows asked.
“Indulge me,” Arthur said. “You can leave her sister here, if you’d like, or perhaps a member of your staff—whatever you feel is appropriate.”
“I’m certainly not going to discuss anything in front of Rosalind,” Miss Isabella said.
“Must you always be so difficult?” The Viscount sighed. “I’ll send in a maid to serve as a chaperone, then. Rosalind, come with me.”
“I don’t see why you’re giving in to her, Father, when you know perfectly well?—”
“Rosalind, don’t start. I need your cooperation right now. If you don’t do as I ask, you’ll have to remain home from the next ball.”
“But that’s utterly unfair!”
The Viscount waited.
Miss Rosalind let out a sigh that was most unladylike and stormed from the room.
Miss Isabella watched her go. “I do wish you hadn’t revealed everything right in front of her,” she murmured. “She’s going to be absolutely unbearable about all of this.”
“If you really want to help your sister find a husband, marrying well yourself might be beneficial,” Arthur suggested to her.
