He blinked. “Of course, where else would I match you? I know little of merchants and the like. It’s time you find a match and that is what we’ll do. Attach a little dowry to you and you’ll be away from whatever trouble you’re finding for yourself before this Season is over.”
Her heart lurched. The very idea of coming out into Society, of being thrown back into the constriction and loneliness that a marriage could create…oh, her whole body hurt at the very idea of it.
“Please,” she whispered. “Could I not just stay a widow? I have very little, I know, but I would not have to stay here. I could find some other arrangement, perhaps even take on a position in a household or—”
He wrinkled his nose. “A position? I will not have it said that I sent my niece totrade. You should be happy, Isabel. Soon you will have a husband, perhaps even one with a little title. Most young women would trip over themselves to take that future. Now, go up to bed. That’s enough of this nonsense.”
He waved her toward the door before he took a place back at his desk. He bent his head, took up a quill and began to write, signaling in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over.
Isabel shivered as she got to her feet and walked from the room. This night had begun and ended with uncertainty. Even the intense passion and pleasure in the middle couldn’t change that fact.
Nor the fact that the control of her life had just been snatched from her hands. And now she was the mercy of a man deep in grieving and revenge. One who would explode if he ever discovered where she had truly been going.
And with whom she had been spending her nights.
Chapter Nine
Matthew sat in his cousin Ewan’s parlor. He was quiet as his cousin, mute since birth, signed and his wife Charlotte translated their secret language. Alongside the couple were Ewan and Matthew’s closest friend from childhood, Baldwin, and his wife of just a year, Helena. Normally Matthew relished these times with them, with all the dukes in their club. And seeing these particular dukes so happy was even better.
But his mind kept returning, time and time again, to his stranger at the Donville Masquerade. His swan. It had been two days since he saw her, touched her, and his nights had been restless with dreams of her. His days just as distracted by the same.
“Don’t you think, Matthew?” Charlotte asked.
He jolted at his name and looked up to see the foursome all looking at him expectantly. Of course he had no idea to what that question referred.
“Er, I…I’m sorry, Charlotte. I admit I was leagues away,” he said with an apologetic tilt of his head. “Forgive me.”
Charlotte had always been kind and her gentle expression now grew worried, as did the faces of the others. They even exchanged looks, and his stomach tightened. Since Angelica’s death, there had been a lot of those kinds of looks between his friends. God, how he hated their pity.
“Charlotte, you were telling me about the nursery,” Helena said with a smile for Baldwin. “I’d love to see what you’ve done.”
Charlotte smiled, but with her pregnancy so far along, she struggled to get up. Ewan moved toward her, helping her to her feet before he settled a hand on her stomach gently. He smiled, but there was tension to his face as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Yes, you gentlemen will excuse us, won’t you?” Charlotte asked.
They were all on their feet by then, and Matthew inclined his head as the two ladies departed, leaving him alone with his two best friends. It should have been so comfortable. Ewan had been raised by Matthew’s father and mother. Because of his inability to speak, his own family had been abominable to him, and Matthew’s late father hadn’t stood for it. In the end, they had been raised as brothers, not just cousins or friends.
And Baldwin was nearly as close. His father had been good friends with Matthew’s. The families had always been linked. Baldwin and his sister Charlotte had been a constant part of their lives. Ewan had even fallen in love with Charlotte when they were just children.
They were a bonded group within the larger group of their friends. And yet there was no ease in being alone with them, because they knew nothing about Matthew’s recent troubles.
Baldwin sighed as he went to the parlor door and shut it. When he looked at them, he shook his head. “I don’t know which of you two to start with. You’re both like ghosts. Is there something horrible going on that I know nothing about?”
“Start with him,” Matthew said, indicating Ewan.
Ewan glared at him but pulled out the small silver notebook he used to communicate. The engraved piece, given to him by his wife, reflected the firelight as he scribbled out a shaky message. “It’s the baby.”
Matthew read the note out loud and his stomach dropped as he jerked his face back up to Ewan’s. “Is something wrong?”
Ewan swallowed and wrote, “Charlotte is healthy and the baby moves and kicks. I would be delighted. Iamdelighted. But…”
He stopped writing midsentence, set the notebook down and walked away. Both Matthew and Baldwin read the message, and Matthew exchanged a look with their friend.
“Ewan,” he said softly, pushing his own troubles away to focus on Ewan. “Are you still worried this child will inherit your…affliction?”
Ewan didn’t have to answer in writing. The way his neck stiffened, the way his knuckles whitened, was enough.
“It’s why you pushed my sister away for so long,” Baldwin said, his tone just as kind as Matthew’s had been. “Why you nearly didn’t marry her despite the feelings you have for one another.”
