“She is in her chambers,” Christine answered with a faint smile as she entered the hallway. “Perhaps you would like to go and see her? You could have tea with us in the parlor, in the meantime, Leo?”
Beatrice nodded and swept away immediately, taking the steps two at a time. Isabella watched from the gallery above. She had been waiting in the shadows, knowing that her sister would come.
“Bella! Are the rumors true?” Beatrice blurted, almost colliding with her before gripping her wrist and pulling Isabella through the open doors of her own chambers.
“Well, if you’re asking what I believe you’re asking about, then yes,” Isabella said and took a breath, shutting the doors behind them.
Beatrice blinked with one hand dramatically placed on her chest.
“You are engaged to the Duke of Everthorne,” Beatrice stared at her.
“Yes.” Isabella took a deep breath.
“And you did not think to tell me last night? I was right there with you.” Beatrice sounded hurt as she began to sulk, her face falling as she shook her head. “You have not told me of any developments between you and the Duke. I thought you were still trying to keep your distance from him.”
Isabella sighed, hanging her head low. “There simply wasn’t enough time.”
“What happened?” Beatrice asked, the concern in her eyes mirroring Isabella’s just a year ago on her wedding day.
It was odd how things had come full circle. It had been Isabella who had asked her sister what had happened, but now she knew how it felt to be the one being asked.
How can I tell her the truth?
Isabella’s cheeks flamed instantly, yet she worked up the courage to face her sister, “I was trying to avoid him, Bea, but one thing led to another…”
Her own voice caught in her throat as the images continued to flash across her mind. The thing that was making her feel the guiltiest of all was the fact that she did not regret what had happened.
“Go on,” Beatrice encouraged, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as her brow creased into a frown.
Isabella exhaled shakily. “We… found ourselves alone on the terrace.”
“And?” Beatrice leaned in, her eyes blazing with anticipation and questions.
“And he…” Isabella hesitated, pressing a hand to her warm cheek.
“He kissed me,” her face burned hotter, “and it was…intense.”
“Define intense.” Beatrice continued to regard her with suspicion.
She does not believe me.
Isabella’s heart continued to pound furiously as heat filled her cheeks.
“I cannot.” She managed to breathe.
“You must.” Beatrice encouraged her gently in a firm tone, shifting aside as she patted the bed beside her.
Isabella inhaled sharply, feeling both mortified and unable to keep the truth contained, but her embarrassment kept her reluctant to speak. For how was she to explain how and where the Duke had kissed her? And how had that formed the chain of events that led to her engagement?
She took another deep breath that did little to ease the tempest raging inside of her before sitting beside her sister and staring at the wall opposite them. “Beatrice, I… lost myself. Entirely. I could barely stand afterward.” She raised a hand to her chest, feeling the weight of her words crashing down on her.
The atmosphere in her chambers grew heavy for a moment as Beatrice said nothing at all.
What is she thinking?
Isabella was almost fearful that her sister would not speak again, but the silence was suddenly broken.
“My word.” Beatrice gasped, staring ahead of her as if the wind had been knocked from her sails..
