Isabella curtsied then hurried back to her seat, her chin still high.
I will not allow them to bring me down.
Whispers still lingered around Isabella, even after the last of the young ladies had delivered their presentations, each more traditional than the last, dancing precariously on familiar, safe topics.
When the final young lady stepped down, Lady Kendrick rose, gliding to the center of the room with a smile that reached her eyes, though it was tempered by the hint of fatigue.
“Ah, my dear girls,” she began, her voice low and rich, carrying easily through the hall, “it is abundantly clear how much time, thought, and, dare I say, sweat you have poured into these presentations, all to entertain this old lady. For that, I am exceedingly grateful. And to the mothers who accompanied you, well done for surviving it with your sanity intact!” She gave amischievous wink that sent a ripple of quiet laughter through the audience.
Isabella found herself smiling; there was something utterly delightful in the way Lady Kendrick spoke, a hidden, easy warmth which was rare among the ton.
“After hearing every proposal,” the Dowager continued, sweeping a hand theatrically across the room, “I have reached a decision regarding the young lady whose idea captured my fancy.”
Every pair of eyes fixed on her, the tension in the room nearly tangible.
“And that young lady,” Lady Kendrick said, pausing just long enough to let the suspense build, “is none other than the brilliant Lady Isabella!”
The words hung in the air; everyone, including Isabella.
“How could she win the presentation?” One of the young ladies closest to Isabella gasped.
“Unbelievable.” Another rolled her eyes in disappointment.
“I don’t see how anyone would go for Lady Isabella. I bet it’s because her father is a duke.” A third and saltier young lady turned up her nose.
Isabella could hear them well, not that they tried to hide their contempt. She didn’t let them get to her.
“You did it!” Christine took Isabella’s hands in hers, squeezing them softly with an even softer smile on her face.
“I can hardly believe it myself.” Isabella returned the smile, pulling Christine in for a hug.
Finally, she would be a part of something that she genuinely would enjoy, something other than tedious and repetitive ton events.
“Thank you, my dear girls, for your spirited participation! Once the club is officially underway, it shall be open to each and every one of you. I should be absolutely delighted to have you all join me in what promises to be a most diverting and splendid enterprise!” Lady Kendrick beamed.
The ladies and their mamas began filing out of the parlor, each of them more annoyed than the last. Yet even with their persistent grumbling, Isabella paid no mind to them, focusing instead on her excitement and on Christine, who somehow seemed more excited than Isabella herself—at least up until Lady Kendrick walked up to them, that warm smile still lingering on her features.
“Your Grace, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a private word with Lady Isabella,” She asked warmly.
Christine smiled, her eyes darting from Lady Kendrick’s to Isabella’s, then she nodded.
“Of course. Please, take your time. I shall be waiting in the carriage.”
And with that, Christine exited the room, leaving Lady Kendrick, who took Isabella’s hands in hers.
“Allow me to offer my most hearty congratulations on winning this little contest!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with delight. “I cannot deny it: when I heard your ideas, it was as if life itself surged through my very bones! I can scarcely wait for us to begin our club!”
“What club?” a deep voice thundered from the doorway.
Heat rushed to Isabella’s cheeks as her pulse began to race. Turning slowly, she held her breath. .
The Duke of Everthorne.
His tall, muscular figure filled the doorway, blocking the butler from view as his grey eyes scanned the room. If she had thought his entire being an impressive sight in the dark, it most certainly was more impressive in the light of day.
His eyes suddenly fell on her figure from the door, lingering for a moment as he took in her form. His gaze went lower and lower,briefly pausing on her hands intertwined with his grandmother’s before raising his eyes to meet hers again.
Isabella knew it, then and there, that he would surely misunderstand the situation, confirming his earlier belief that she was a liar.
