“Yes, Father.” She stood up immediately and began to pull Isadora along with her. “Isadora, will you please help me?”
“Uh, right, yes,” Isadora complied, and the two ladies scurried out of the room.
Finally.
Evan had been holding back with Isadora in the room. He turned back to George, his expression impossible to read.
“Lord Morton, I think it would be wise for us to clear up some misconceptions that you have seemed to have developed,”Evan said in a calm voice. “You seem to think that Isadora is a bargaining chip in advancing your business interests. As though somehow you can use her name to get me to agree to whatever it is that you wish.”
George stumbled for a second at having been called out so bluntly. “Your Grace—I?—”
“You do not need to deny it. It ispainfullyobvious for everyone to see, and perhaps this has been the norm for you,” Evan noted. “But let me make one thing very clear, you will never be able to hold Isadora over my head as though she is some kind of leverage. She is my wife now, and I do not take kindly to seeing her being used like this.”
“I wasn’t—I was only suggesting in good faith—” George tried to defend himself, but Evan was beyond the point of listening to his excuses.
“Whatever it was that you were attempting to do, I would suggest you stop it. Immediately.” The threat in his voice was no longer concealed.
George sunk back further into his chair, grumbling under his breath, but it was clear who had the upper hand in this situation.
“Are we in agreement?” Evan prodded, his mouth curving upwards into a thin smirk.
“Y—yes, Your Grace,” George said, falling back in line.
“Good.”
“Was that as awkward for you as it was for me?” Penelope asked as the two ladies made their way out of the drawing room.
Isadora drew in a sharp breath. “Father is being overly demanding, yes.” The word she wanted to use wasembarrassing,but she held herself back.
“I am surprised that the Duke has not snapped at him yet.” Penelope shook her head.
Isadora let out a slow exhale, shaking her head. “Evan is far more patient than our father deserves, but even he has his limits.”
Penelope cast a wary glance behind them, ensuring no one was within earshot as they made their way down the corridor. The murmuring voices from the drawing room had quieted.
“You know,” Penelope began in a low voice as though she was letting her sister in on a grand secret, “the entire time I was sitting in that drawing room, I could only think of one thing. What would happen if the both of us simply decided… not to put up with any of it anymore?”
“Whatexactlydo you mean by that?” Isadora frowned.
“It’s only an idea, you know.” Penelope tried to downplay it, but the seriousness of her expression indicated anything but. “Would it be so awful if we just… well, up and left? Far away from all of this.”
Isadora’s mouth nearly hung open. “Penelope Morton, are you suggesting that we run away?”
“Would that be so bad?” Penelope nodded. “It could be a chance for a new beginning. We can escape all of this. I would no longer have to endure Father, and you can get away from the Duke.”
A strange feeling settled in Isadora’s chest at the suggestion alone. “I do not wish to do that,” she blurted out, without so much as a second thought—almost as if it were a reflex. “I am not the prisoner that you think I am.”
“Aren’t you, though?” Penelope argued. “Evan does not seem like someone who likes to loosen his control, within or outside of the house. He expects obedience from you. Is that really a life you wish to have for yourself?”
Isadora found herself shaking her head. “You seem to have formed the wrong perception of him entirely. He could not be more different from Father. He does not see me as something to be used, nor does he wish to control me.”
Penelope studied her, searching for cracks, but Isadora did not waver.
With a resigned sigh, Penelope folded her arms. “Then I suppose you are a braver woman than me.”
“No, just a different one.” Isadora smiled faintly, reaching to tuck a stray curl behind Penelope’s ear. “Now, please. Abandon this ridiculous plan you’ve conjured up—there shall be no running away from anything.”
Penelope pouted her lips and then let out a sigh of resignation. “You never wish to be on board with my ideas.”
