The relief Isadora had gotten from her excursion at the stable was short-lived. From the moment that she stepped into the manor, she knewsomething was wrong.
“Do we have a visitor?” she asked one of the house help. There had been a carriage in their driveway—one she did not recognize.
The maid nodded, but before she could answer, she heard his voice.
Deep.
And far too at ease for what she knew could only be a very bad situation. Her heart nearly stopped.
She turned toward the drawing room where the door was slightly ajar, and there he was.
Evan Marwood stood in the middle of the room, his stance easy, as though he had spent his entire life walking into places where he was not wanted and making himself at home regardless. And opposite him sat her father.
George looked as though he was barely containing his irritation, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Isadora?” George caught sight of her standing in the doorway and waved her forward impatiently. She jumped at the sound of her own name. “Come inside. I… well, your presence is required here. The Duke has arrived with quite the claim.”
Isadora’s stomach dropped. She had not expected him to be visiting so soon. Slowly, she made her way inside, and Evan turned his head slightly toward her. He seemed to be assessing her, but his eyes gave nothing away.
George gestured toward a chair. “Sit.”
She hesitated for half a second then obeyed, settling stiffly into the seat across from Evan.
George exhaled, turning his glare back to Evan. “I have just been informed of something rather extraordinary,” he said, his tone dry with disbelief. “And I want you to confirm whether it is true or not.”
Isadora blinked.
“Would you care to tell her, Your Grace?” George said tightly.
Evan nodded, his lips tipping into the faintest hint of a smile before he spoke. “I was simply informing your father of our understanding,” he said smoothly.
Isadora’s stomach tightened. “Our… u—understanding?”
George let out a short, bitter laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. “He claims that the two of you are in love.”
The words barely made sense at first. Isadora stared at her father, waiting forhimto say it was a misunderstanding,but the tension in his jaw told her otherwise. She turned back to Evan for an answer.
He met her gaze, his expression unreadable, but in the depths of his dark eyes, she saw it.
The favor.
This was it.
It was worse than she could have possibly imagined. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“I… well…” she stumbled out, not sure of what to say exactly.
Evan’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes did. The message was subtle, but it was clear as day.
Play along.
George’s gaze snapped back to her. “Is it true, or is it not?” he asked, growing more impatient by the second.
Evan leaned back slightly and spoke before she could. “Perhaps I was mistaken but I was under the impression that the lady and I had an understanding.”
It felt like a warning. He was trapping her.
George’s stare bored into her, waiting.
