He nodded. “We shall be married within a fortnight. I will procure a special license. There will be no need for you to travel to London as there is far too much excitement there for a lady.”
“Windham, you must stop this at once,” Edith pleaded. “This is the worst man I have ever had the displeasure of listening to! We are not more than a half-day’s ride from London at most and he speaks to her as if she is nothing but a piece of furniture.”
“Miss Alden is more than capable of putting the lord in his place,” Felix said through gritted teeth.
He would enjoy the dressing down Miss Alden gave the lord when she grew tired of tolerating him.
However, that moment was yet to arrive. It seemed as if Miss Alden was determined to uphold her end of the wager, even to her own detriment.
Edith gripped Felix’s arm tighter. “If you do not stop this at once, she will be avoidant of all Englishmen, and you will never be able to find her a husband. Think of what the other members of thetonwill say. They will judge you for allowing her to fall into his clutches.”
“Mother, she is a capable young woman, and she will be the first to tell Lord Townshend that he is overstepping.”
Despite his words Felix was still annoyed with the young lord. At first he had thought that his cold and standoffish nature wouldallow Miss Alden to live as she pleased if they were wed, but now the opposite was becoming quite evident.
Lord Townshend seemed to have a plethora of thoughts about their future and not once had Miss Alden agreed to them.
Felix turned to his mother, prepared to debate the merits of allowing Miss Alden to handle the situation on her own in comparison to how she would react if he stepped in.
Though he knew it was his duty, he was hoping for a public dressing down for the lord. It would be quite a spectacle.
But it would ruin the imp’s chances at a good match on the marriage market.
Felix removed his arm from Edith’s grip. “I will handle this matter, Mother.”
“Unhand me you wench!” a man shouted, his voice booming through the park.
Please let it not be Miss Alden of whom he is speaking.
Six
Isabelle ripped the gold hair comb from the man’s hand. “I shall unhand you when you apologize for being a cad!”
Lord Townshend cleared his throat and reached for Isabelle. “My dear, you must unhand him. Surely it was not his intent to steal. The heat must be affecting your senses. You must have dropped the comb, and this gentleman was just trying to return it to you.”
“Do not touch me,” Isabelle said, her tone low as she looked up at Lord Townshend. “If you were a true gentleman, you would have seen this pickpocket and you would have defended me. You certainly would not have called into question my senses.”
The Duke stepped forward. “What is the problem here?”
“This man snatched the Dowager Duchess’ hair comb.”
The man broke free of her grasp and ripped the comb from her hand, taking off running down the path. Isabelle lifted her skirts and ran after him, her strides longer than his. She moved quickly, stopping just before him and sticking out her foot.
The ache that radiated through her ankle as he tripped over it was nothing compared to the pain the thief would feel as his face collided with the pathway.
He groaned with pain as his head bounced from the impact. When the comb fell from his fingertips, Isabelle swooped down and picked it up.
She dusted the specks of dirt off the comb, turning it this way and that beneath the sunlight. Though she couldn’t see damage to the comb itself, it looked as if one of the small decorative stones set in a trio in the broad part of the comb was missing. She glanced at the ground through squinted eyes.
The diamond was missing and would be nearly impossible to find between the flat stones that were pieced together to form the path.
When the man tried to stand, Isabelle pressed her foot into his hand, keeping him pinned to the ground as the Duke and Lord Townshend came running.
The Duke looked between her and the man. If she was not mistaken there was an impressed shine in his eyes. The corner of his mouth crooked as he looked at the man on the ground.
“Miss Alden, I do not believe that man would like a permanent impression of your foot on the back of his hand. Perhaps you might remove it now that I am here to deal with the matter.” The Duke struggled to keep his grin contained.
Isabelle sighed and stepped back, allowing the duke to pull the thief to his feet. “I cannot believe this man thought to attempt to steal the combtwice.”
