CHAPTER 1
“Penelope, have you completely lost your senses?”
Isadora’s voice was sharp, her hand gripping her sister’s arm as they stood near the edge of the ballroom. Around them, couples swirled on the dance floor, but Isadora could see nothing but the poor choice Penelope was about to make.
“I beg your pardon?” Penelope, who was only five years younger at nineteen, blinked in confusion at her older sister’s ire.
“No need to act so aloof,” Isadora stressed. “I saw you just now. Were you seriously entertaining the notion of dancing with Lord Wetherby?”
Penelope sighed, exasperation clear in her features. “I was merely speaking with him, Isadora. I did not know that was against the rules you’ve set for me tonight.”
Isadora resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her sister’s sarcasm. “Well, you know that it is. You need not waste your time with him, let alone dance with him.”
“You act as though I have promised him my hand,” the younger sibling shot in return. “We are at a ball, you know. It is only natural that I speak with people here. Unless you’d rather have me act a wallflower and keep to myself the entire night.”
“It was notjust speaking that you were doing.” Isadora’s eyes narrowed. “You weresmilingat him.”
Yes, perhaps it sounded a little harsh when she said it out loud. Isadora was well aware that what might seem innocuous to an innocent observer was criminalin her book. She had vowed to protect her sister from every unworthy suitor, and Lord Wetherby was most certainly one of them.
“He was charming,” Penelope shrugged, unfazed. “And you need not worry so much.”
“Charming is not the word I would think to use. He is a notorious flatterer,” Isadora corrected. “And a man with more debts than sense.”
“Howdo you even know that?” Penelope huffed and folded her arms, “You have always been so quick to judge. Perhaps he has changed, or perhaps the source of your information was simply incorrect.”
“My information is never incorrect, dear sister,” Isadora scoffed. “Men like Wetherby do not change. They merely grow more adept at hiding their faults, and then they try to trick young girls like yourself to fall right into their trap.”
“Again, I beg you to tell me, youknowthis because?”
“I know because…” Isadora paused for a moment. Well, there was no way to know for certain, of course. But she was not about to take any chances when it came to Penelope. “Because I am your older sister. Consider it an intuition.”
“That is not an answer, Isadora.” Penelope shook her head. It was not uncommon for the two to argue—though it was never too serious. Despite her rebellious ways, Isadora knew that Penelope had great respect for her older sister. She never crossed a line that would make their arguments disrespectful.
“I know you too well. You see a charming smile, and suddenly, all reason flies out the window.”
Penelope clenched her fists at her sides. “I understand your concern, truly I do. But just for one night, I wish to have conversations without you hovering over my shoulder, scrutinizing every man who so much as looks at me.”
Isadora exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have nothing against you having conversations but only with those that might be worthy of them. Wetherby is not the kind of man you can trust.”
“And how am I supposed to learn who to trust if you never let me make my own decisions?”
Isadora paused for a moment. As irksome as it was, perhaps Penelope did have a point. But before she could retort, a familiar voice cut through the conversation.
“For goodness’ sake, Isadora, are you bothering the poor girl again?”
Daphne Harris, the Duchess of Greymont, approached them. Violet Havenford followed close behind, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her closest friends.
“The opposite, rather.” Isadora folded her hands across her chest, nodding at both the ladies.
“Oh, no, no,” Penelope jumped at the opportunity. “Tell them how you have been bothering me the entire night. Daphne, she barely lets me speak to anyone without interrupting and scaring them away.”
Daphne laughed as though she was all too familiar with the scene. “Is that the case?” She turned to her friend. “Have you considered neglecting your guard dog duties for just a night?”
“You say that in jest, but pray tell, if I do not watch over her, who will?” Isadora said, shooting a glare in her friends’ direction.
“Perhaps I can be trusted to watch over myself?” Penelope suggested, a smirk playing on her lips.
“That would be a lovely thought, except that we both know you enjoy the thrill of a little mischief,” Violet chuckled.
