Isabelle stalked away from him, her body vibrating with anger. Her hands fell to her sides and the thought of turning back and throttling the duke appealed to her more than ever. He had insulted her, yet he was the one who was allowed to be offended?
According to him I am both a wild animal and not beautiful.
Though she wasn’t vain, she was aware of the heads that turned when she was at social events. Attracting men wasn’t unusual for her. Perhaps it was time that the duke learned what she was truly capable of.
If he wanted to find her a husband, then she would do a stellar job of reeling in the men, making the duke hopeful, and then sending the men away.
Game on, Duke Windham.
Isabelle laughed, brushing her hand against Lord Milton’s chest as they walked down to the lake she had been at the previous evening. “If you keep insisting that you are capable of fighting a bear, I shall find one for you before the day is out.”
Lord Milton gave her a roguish smile, but if it was designed to send her heart racing, he was sorely mistaken. Instead, she felt only a kinship with the man. There was no rush of emotion that came with infatuation.
He gestured to the picnic blanket spread on the dock. “I thought it would be nice to have lunch here, but if you wish to find me a bear, then perhaps we had better take the food and go.”
“I dare say the fruit and cheese would be good, but a chicken leg is rather difficult to eat while climbing trees and searching for bears.”
Felix sighed behind them. “She is merely jesting, Milton. She does not climb trees.”
She shot the Duke a withering look over her shoulder. “His Grace is unaware of what I do as he has not taken a moment to investigate my interests.”
Milton helped her sit on the blanket, waiting until she had tucked her legs to the side and spread out her skirts before sitting. He took a seat beside her and opened the basket that had been prepared that morning with all of Isabelle’s favorite foods.
He took the chicken legs and laid them out on a plate. “Do you climb trees often in America?”
“Not often.” Isabelle smiled as he revealed a bowl of fresh berries. She took a couple and popped them into her mouth. “I have little time for climbing when I spend most of it drawing and riding.”
“You ride?”
Out of the corner of her eye she observed Windham moving about. “Yes, though it is not sidesaddle like the women ride here. I think I would find that rather restrictive. After all, how are you supposed to complete jumps if your legs are stuck on one side.”
The sigh of exasperation came from behind her. “Young ladies donotspend their time jumping horses.”
Isabelle smirked, looking at Lord Milton as though Felix hadn’t commented. “And these blas?—”
“Miss Alden!” Windham’s tone was sharp, cutting her off before she even had the chance to cuss. In that moment she would have liked to see the expression on his face if she had sworn. He would likely have imploded on the spot.
“As I was saying,” Isabelle continued, “women in American do not wear gloves very often. They are rather finnicky things that often get in the way.”
“If you do not like them, then pass them here. I shall keep them safe in my pocket until you return to the house and must once more pretend to be a proper young lady.” Lord Milton gave her a mischievous wink as she took off her gloves and handed them over.
Windham looked as if he was going to have a meltdown. He paced to one side of them, close enough to still hear their conversation but just far enough to give them an illusion of privacy. Isabelle fought the urge to look at him again as she turned her full attention to Lord Milton.
He picked some of the berries out of the bowl and tossed them in the air before catching them in his mouth. “Tell me more about your opinions.”
“Well, I think it would be rather ideal if women were permitted?—”
“Windham, a moment,” another voice said, cutting into the conversation. Isabelle looked over her shoulder to see one of the servants approaching.
Lord Milton rose to his feet. “Excuse me a moment, Miss Alden.”
“Of course.”
He strode over to Windham and the servant, the three of them speaking in hushed tones. While they whispered, Isabelle got to her own feet and walked to the edge of the dock. She took off her shoes, already giddy with the idea of her stockinged feet in the water and how it would send Windham through the roof.
She set the shoes to the side before sitting down. As she dangled her legs down further than she had the night before, the cool water met her toes. With a sigh, she tipped her head back and looked at the fat white clouds drifting across the sky.
Dark gray clouds hovered ominously on the horizon. Isabelle groaned and wished that the clouds would dissipate. She was tired of being in a country where the rain was ever-present. She thought that the weather would be nice, at least in the summer, but the sky seemed to believe that a continuous barrage of water would be better.
