“Yes.”
Isobel glowered at him. How dare he refer to her as a feral creature. It might not be her best day, but she was the daughter of a viscount. She was raised with manners and class, but the man in front of her was likely raised by wolves.
The man stared right back at her, but the look in his eyes was of amusement, making her heart slam into her ribs, and send a slow tingle crawling across her skin. With his broad shoulders and the way he towered over her, even though she was tall for a woman, there was no denying he was an attractive man.
It’s too bad his personality ruins his good looks.
Isobel rolled her shoulders back, standing taller. “I might look a mess, but at least I’m capable of remembering my manners. I’ll take my leave now, and I hope you have the day you deserve.”
“Give me Darling, then you may take your leave, and do as you wish—which I suspect is likely running through the woods and hunting your prey, wild cat.” The man motioned to the carriage. “I have places to be and you’re delaying them by holding my poor puppy hostage.”
She ignored the pet name, not wanting to give him another reason to try and flirt with her. The last thing he needed was encouragement.
“I’m delaying you?” She laughed, the last drop of sanity and patience she had for the day disappearing. Her head spun. Her heart thumped so hard it hurt.
Her dress itched. Her father’s furious face drifted to the front of her memory. She also remembered Sinclair’s smug confession. Her thoughts spiraled. The dowry lie. The creditor. Everything coiled inside her like a snake ready to strike. She had been trying to hold it all together, trying to act civilized, trying not to scream—but no. No. Not anymore.
“Do you know the kind of day I’ve had?”
“I do not, and I don’t care. Simply give me the dog, you little feral creature, and you can continue with the dramatics after I’ve gone.” He started walking toward her, but she took several more steps backward, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.
“The dramatics?” Her voice was higher now, frenzied. “Thedramatics? I’ve been left at the altar and Father lied about my dowry to anyone who would listen. And that Scottish lord I was meant to marry? Well, he was the last thing standing between my family and ruin! In two weeks, the creditor will come and take everything we own! I—oh, I haven’t even had breakfast!”
Silence hit. The words were out of her mouth. Raw, frantic, and completely uncontrolled. Her pulse roared in her ears.
The stranger froze for the barest moment, then his lips curved slowly. “Well,” he said, voice low, teasing, “that rant was… impressively thorough.”
Oh no. Oh no. I’ve just embarrassed myself in front of a complete stranger. My last shred of dignity? Gone.
Two
Isobel’s entire body was on fire, and she wished she could run and hide. She looked down at the ground, mortification consuming her entire being.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking just a little. She shouldn’t have said all those things to a total stranger.
The man in front of her certainly didn’t need to know about the darkest parts of her life. The shame she would now carry after being left at the altar.
She expected the man’s disgust, or perhaps even laughter, for the shame she and her father were bringing to her family. After all, the scheme Father concocted was truly ridiculous. He had ruined the family, was continuing to lie about it, and somehow, he was expecting Isobel to save them all through marriage.
Now, she would be lucky if a man would have her. Though, if Father continued to pretend the dowry existed when it didn’t, he could weasel his way into another offer for her hand.
The man in front of her sighed. “You’re not the first woman I’ve heard of that has had to marry for the sins of her father and I doubt you’ll be the last.”
Her jaw nearly hit the ground.
“You have?” Isobel kept stroking Darling’s fur, soothing herself with the puppy in her arms.
The man’s mouth twitched. “You’re certainly far from the first woman who has endured a loveless marriage.”
“I won’t be enduring it. I told you. He refused to marry me at the altar. He could’ve saved me the humiliation and called it off this morning, but instead he waited until he was asked if he would take me as his wife!”
The man shrugged, his hands slipping into the pockets of his breeches. “Perhaps you should take a moment to focus on the positive aspects that have come from this.”
“I don't think there’s anything positive that’s come from this. Not even a little.” Isobel smiled as the puppy, Darling, started wagging her tail which created a steady thump against Isobel’s ribs.
“You’ve been liberated. This man might have embarrassed you, but you’re liberated now. You don’t have to marry someone you find odious. You’re free to go out there and live your life. It’s more than most women can say.”
Isobel laughed and shook her head, eyeing him. “You don’t understand.”
