“I need a clean start. My business and personal reputation cannot handle another scandal.” Andrew finished his cake, reaching for his tea to wash it down. “I cannot afford to lose everything I’ve built.”
“Fine.” Eleanor smirked, and he didn't like the wicked look in her eyes. “The Season starts in two weeks. I’ll help you then.We’ll find you a good wife, and when your reputation is saved, you can say you owe it all to me.”
He grimaced, but there was no other option. If he wanted to save Mayfair Fox, he needed a wife.
Perhaps that jilted woman might be free.
Three
Isobel threw her hands up in the air. “I’m done with men. I’m done with thetonand its whispers. I’ll join a monastery. Nun life has been calling to me.”
Joan laughed and leaned against the white marble stone of the terrace. “You’re only five-and-twenty. Surely that is too soon to be done with the Season and men.”
“This is the first ball of the Season and I’m ready to end it all.” Isobel sighed, leaning back against the brick wall of the terrace, the night air cool as it flowed around them.
The sound of laughter and happy voices came from inside, no doubt the latest gossip making its way around the ballroom. The more time Isobel spent in that room with people casting long looks her way, the more she wished she was secluded away from Society.
“Isobel, you must be reasonable about this. There has to be something you would miss if you became a nun.”
“What would I miss, exactly? Father demeaning me at every turn? His need to wage an emotional warfare with me for the wedding being called off even though it was doomed from the start?” Isobel shrugged, the stone icy against her back through the linen of her dress.
“Father only wants the best for us.” Joan turned to look at her, softly smiling, ready to defend Father the way she always did.
Isobel could hardly blame her for that either—even if it was annoying. She had always done everything she could to shield Joan from the worst Father had to offer. Joan’s Father and Isobel’s Father were two very different people.
Joan stepped closer to her, taking her by the hands and holding them tight. “There are things you would miss. I’m certain of it.”
Isobel froze at Joan’s words.Miss something?The thought flared in her mind unbidden, and—why was it the Duke of Foxdrey’s voice that immediately came to her ears? That rakish, teasing drawl:“If you ever wish for someone to ruin you properly, you may find me at Foxdrey.”
Her cheeks warmed, a heat she couldn’t quite stifle, and her pulse skipped in a way that had nothing to do with fear or frustration. She pressed her palms to her thighs, trying to quell the stirring deep in her stomach, but it only pulsed stronger with the memory of him.
“No.” Isobel pulled away from Joan. “You are the only person I would miss, and we could write to each other.”
“It wouldn’t be the same.” Joan followed her to the other side of the terrace. “Please, Isobel, let’s go back and join the others. You can dance with handsome men and have some good food, and you might even find someone to fall in love with this Season.”
“I don’t wish to fall in love with anyone.” Isobel crossed her arms on the railing, leaning over and looking down at the gardens lit with glowing lanterns below.
“You surely must want to. I know you say that you would be happy to spend your life unmarried, but could you really mean that?”
“I do.” Isobel forced out the little shred of doubt about being alone in the back of her mind. “I’m not going in there and I’m not going to be made a fool of.”
“Father nearly had to beg for this invitation,” Joan said, a sternness entering her voice as she put her hands on her hips. “After everything, he’s still trying to help you find a husband, and I think you need to go back in there, hold your head high, and show those horrible people that they can’t hurt you with their words.”
“Oh, but they very much can.” Isobel sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to be annoyed with Joan. “I just need a moment to breathe, all right? One moment and then I’ll return to those shark-infested waters.”
“That’s the spirit.” Joan leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I know it’s hard, but I’m proud of you for coming here tonight, and I know it’s not easy, but this is for the best.”
Isobel forced another smile, taking Joan by the shoulders and turning her to the door. “Go, enjoy yourself. I’m going to take a moment, and then I will go back in there.”
Joan stared at her for a moment, like she was deciding whether to believe Isobel, before turning and heading back into the party.
The second she was gone from sight, Isobel turned her attention back to the gardens, taking deep breaths and trying to steady herself.
This was the last chance Isobel had to save her family. They only had a limited time left to them before Father’s creditor took everything away. According to Father, a deplorable man had appeared on the family’s doorstep just three days ago while Isobel and Joan were out. Father had pleaded for more time. He swore that if he was granted a few more days, he might work miracles.
And so, intrigued by this statement, the creditor had shown some leniency. The way Father told it, they had no time to lose. He knew the creditor would not wait forever and he feared seeing the man darken his doorstep another time. So, Isobel came up with this flimsy plan. The family would attend one final ball—this one—where Isobel would help Joan secure a match, and then she would run away and join a convent.
A few more hours, and by nightfall, Father will give everything we own to a stranger.
