“What is she like?” the duchess asked.
He turned toward her. “Isabel?”
“Your friends seem quite…dividedon the subject.”
Yes, his protective friends, half of whom saw Isabel as a co-conspirator, the other half as a victim. He wasn’t sure which camp he fell into.
“She is lovely, of course,” he began. “You could not help but look at her across a room. But the closer one gets, the more…fascinating she becomes. She’s intelligent, which I like.”
“You would be bored to tears if she weren’t, so that makes me happy,” his mother said.
“And she has a sweetness to her. She was poorly matched before, you know. In a loveless marriage.”
She bent her head. “And now you will both be thrust into another. Not what I ever wanted for you, especially after watching your friends and your cousin marry so happily. I always wished you would find a union like—”
She broke off, but he knew where her mind was going. “Like yours with Father,” he said, sighing. “Yes, I hoped for that too. But you know, it isn’t so very terrible. I am drawn to her. There is much to separate us, but there is no reason that one day we could not have a good…a good friendship.”
“Perhaps that will be enough,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
He lifted it to his lips for a brief kiss. “May I ask you a favor?”
“Anything,” she said.
“Lead in the way in how you manage her,” he said. “Please. It will be hard enough for her for a while and I don’t want her to feel she is under attack from all sides.”
“You do care about her well-being,” the duchess breathed, tilting her head to examine his face a bit more closely.
He shifted beneath the interest and nodded. “I do.”
“Then I will do everything in my power to make her feel welcome,” his mother said. “But Matthew?”
“Yes?”
“If she does turn out to be in league with her uncle, I will cut her to her knees.”
Matthew lifted his eyebrows at the sharp, forceful tone. His mother was generally so kind, so gentle. And yet now her eyes flashed with the same protective light that his friends had demonstrated.
“I understand,” he said.
“Your Grace?” They both turned to find Portman standing in the entryway.
“Yes?” Matthew asked, though he already knew what the butler would say. He just needed an extra breath before he faced it.
“Mrs. Hayes has arrived.”
Matthew glanced at his other. “Only Mrs. Hayes? Mr. Winter is not also here?”
Portman shook his head. “No, sir. Mrs. Hayes came alone. She is in the blue parlor, as requested.”
Matthew nodded, and after Portman had gone, he looked at his mother. “Is it very wrong that I’m happy her uncle didn’t join us tonight?”
“No, for I feel it too and I absolve us of all guilt,” she laughed as they left the room together to join Isabel. “Though I do wonder at his behavior.”
Matthew pursed his lips. “As do I. As do I.”
They came down the stairs and up the hallway. The door to the blue parlor was closed as they approached and he made himself take a cleansing breath before he pushed it open and revealed their guest.
Isabel was standing by the window and she pivoted when they entered, her hands clenched before her and her eyes wide. She was beautiful, as she was always beautiful. Tonight she wore a pretty blue silk that made her seem at home in the room. A fall of butterflies adored the skirt of her gown, and the whimsical element made him feel like he was home in Tyndale, lying in the fields like he had done when he was a boy.
