Joan's grip tightened on Isobel's hand—a silent plea.
The dismissive coldness, the complete lack of care for Joan's happiness, the way he spoke of his own daughter as though she were merely another servant with duties to fulfill—it was all the reminder Isobel needed of why this visit was necessary.
And why she needed to Joan get out.
“Come.” Isobel tugged on Joan’s hands. “I must speak to you alone.”
“You cannot just…” Her father dropped his newspaper then and stood so that he might scold them, but Isobel ignored him completely.
They left their father in the breakfast room and did not make it far down the hallway before Joan whispered loudly, “It is a relief to see you. I thought more time was going to pass before you visited!”
Isobel pulled her sister into a tight hug. “I missed you already. Walk with me. I have some things I wish to speak to you about.”
Joan shuffled forward and plucked her pelisse and a muff from their place next to the front door. She tucked her hands into the lining of the muff as Isobel led the way back down the steps and to the sidewalk. They passed people on the street as snowflakes fell down around them.
Isobel glanced at Joan. “Now that I’m out of Father’s house, I want to help you do the same. You need a chaperone at the balls, and I have the time to do so.”
“Are you certain?” Joan asked, her eyebrows climbing. “I assumed you were going to be busy going on your honeymoon or something similar.”
“The Duke of Foxdrey wants me to have my freedom, and I would like to use that freedom to ensure you make a good match. If that means speaking to him about delaying the honeymoon, then that’s what I’ll do. He’s a reasonable man.”
At least, for now, it seemed so.
And if they didn’t go on their honeymoon, there wouldn’t be room to give into the temptation of him. It was better to keep the man at a distance. While he might be attentive and kind now, she was sure that would change once they grew more comfortable with each other. In Isobel’s experience, people only started to show you who they really were once they came to know you.
Joan sighed and turned to face Isobel. “People in thetonare going to whisper about why you haven’t gone on your honeymoon.”
“I will speak to the Duke about that as well. If I ask and tell him it’s for your wellbeing—which it is—then he might be willing to tell the people of the gossips that his business is keeping him here right now but we’re taking our honeymoon later.”
“Isobel—” Joan trailed off, looking to the sky for a moment before glancing back at her. “I don’t know that this is going to be a good idea.”
“I owe you this one last thing,” Isobel said. Her voice a little choked as tears blurred the corners of her vision. “I have to make sure that you’re settled in a marriage with a kind man.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in kind men.” Joan kept walking with Isobel trailing along beside her.
“I have never met one, but you are good and sweet. You have rarely had a wicked thought. If there is a kind man in the world, I will find him and present him to you on a platter.”
“You need to enjoy your life. You’re a duchess now. You have more important matters to tend to than ensuring your sister settles into a good marriage.”
“There is nothing more important to me in the world,” Isobel said, taking Joan by the hands and squeezing them. “I adore you, and I will speak to my husband. Until we find a permanent solution, you are free to visit me and Andrew’s cousins as often as you like. Now that we are married, his family is your family as well. You are never without a place.”
If admitting he was her savior yet again was the price, she would pay it—even at the expense of Isobel’s dignity and the Duke’s ego growing another inch.
Joan was worth throwing herself on the sword and asking the Duke for his help.
Sixteen
Three days had passed since their wedding night, and Isobel was beginning to understand the strange rhythm of married life.
She sat in the morning room, embroidery forgotten in her lap, watching out the window as Andrew walked through the snow-covered gardens.
The door opened behind her.
"Your Grace, His Grace asks if you would join him in the gardens," Mrs. Brendan said with a knowing smile.
Isobel set aside her embroidery and made her way outside. The air felt crisp against her skin.
"There you are," Andrew said as she approached, that devastating smile already in place. "I left you alone at breakfastfor three days," he pointed out. “What a poor husband I have been.”
