“You should leave then,” he finally declared, his voice a rich baritone that reverberated through her skin, burning away even her earlier anger. “Lest someone comes looking for you,” he finished, glancing over the entire length of her body.
A wave of heat washed over her skin beneath his gaze, yet Isabella did not wait to be told twice. She turned on her heel and fled as quickly as she could.
Yet the Duke’s piercing gaze still followed her after she’d returned home.
Even in her dreams.
A couple of days had passed, and Isabella was now back at Ironstone House in London, her parents and half-siblings returned from the countryside.
Yet Isabella’s cheeks still burned red with just a simple thought of a certain duke with dark eyes and thick arms.
In her defense, she hadn’t planned to be mesmerized by him, nor did she actively seek him out in her memories. He’d just simply… appear out of nowhere, no matter what she was doing, and take hold of her entire being, replaying that one encounter over and over.
“Why have you gone so red, Isabella? Has the tea burned you?” Her stepmother’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
There she’d gone again, thinking about him.
“N-no, it hasn’t,” Isabella replied, wishing the tea had indeed scorched her.
At least then, she’d be able to focus on something other than that man.
“Are you all right then? You’re as red as a beet,” Christine observed, concern etched on her face as her hazel eyes searched Isabella’s with motherly concern. Her dark blonde hair had been neatly pinned to the back of her head.
Isabella nodded, for it was a far better response than admitting to being in the company of a half-naked Duke of Everthorne, especially in the presence of her father and younger siblings.
Eleanor, her half-sister, looked up from her teacup to Isabella’s face, giggling slightly at the sight. Her dark golden hair and bright hazel eyes made her look like a carbon copy of her motherwith a few slight differences. Even at the tender age of ten, she was quite pretty.
“How horrible must I look to have you laugh in my face, Ellie?” Isabella teased, narrowing her eyes at the younger, mischievous girl, who all but giggled.
“You look fine to me, Bella,” Henry, her half-brother, chimed in, and Isabella sent him a grateful smile. If Ellie was a close copy of her mother, then Herny, her older brother, was a perfect likeness of their father. His dark brown hair had been cropped short, highlighting the deep flecks in his dark brown eyes.
“I tried to withhold myself from asking, Isabella, but I can hardly help myself. I hear the Duke of Everthorne never showed his face at the fencing competition days ago. Is that right?” Christine’s eyes sparkled with curiosity while Isabella’s face heated up.
She nodded.
“That hardly surprises me. Everthorne has been a recluse for years. He merely does his business and goes on his way. I wonder why anyone would believe he would show himself at that event. Had it not been for his eccentric grandmother, the doors to that townhouse would’ve been shut,” her father, Edewin, said, shaking his head as he leaned back against his chair, looking like a more mature version of his son.
“I wouldn’t call Lady Kendrick eccen—” Isabella began to say, but the presence of their trusted butler, Mr. Jameson, cut her off.
“Forgive my intrusion, Your Grace, but a letter has just arrived for Lady Isabella,” the man said, his eyes darting from Isabella to her father, waiting for an instruction.
“From whom?” Isabella asked.
“It’s from Everthorne House, My Lady,” the butler replied.
“I’ll have it, Mr. Jameson.” Isabella’s voice was surprisingly steady, considering the storm of confusion in her mind.
Jameson inched closer, handing the note over to Isabella before walking away.
Silence loomed around the drawing room. With a deep breath and a quick exhale, Isabella peeled open the white envelope. Her eyes skimmed over the elegant writing, unable to comprehend what she was reading or perhaps the intention behind it.
“Well? What does it say?” Christine, her stepmother, asked, eyeing the letter in Isabella’s possession.
“Lady Kendrick is inviting me to Everthorne House.”
Even as she said the words, Isabella could not believe them herself. It had to be why she didn’t mind the utterly shocked faces of her father and stepmother.
“Lady Kendrick is inviting you?” her father asked, searching her face. “Did anything transpire at that fencing competition, Bella?”
