Felix ground his teeth against the thought. “Come, walk with me.”
Isabelle rose and led the way to the door. “I do not know how speaking of my future husband is going to help you.”
“It shall give me a better idea of which gentlemen I should be refusing when I get a long line at my door asking for your hand.” Felix was torn between offering her his arm or not as they stepped out of the house and into the garden beneath the shining sun.
The warm breeze tugged at his hair, sending rogue strands into his eyes. He would be due for a cut soon, but there seemed to be so little time to worry about such trivial things.
I would have had more time if I had not stayed awake last night speaking with Isabelle.
“Windham, you must promise me that you will not marry me off to a man without teeth.”
He was drawn from his thoughts by her sudden outburst. With a short bark of laughter, he led her down one of the spiraling paths. “And why would you be worried about marrying a man without teeth, might I ask?”
“I have seen several men without teeth while I was walking around the shops with the Dowager Duchess and Lady Victoria today. I thought that if I were to marry someone, he would have to have teeth. I could not bear the rest of my life mashing perfectly fine food into a paste.”
Felix pressed his lips together in a vain attempt not to laugh. “Very well then, I shall ask all the men to open their mouths upon meeting.”
Isabelle let out an unladylike snort. “You are far too proper to do such a thing.”
“I may be, but I am certain you would go to great lengths to ensure that your future husband has teeth. Need I be worried about you pulling open their mouths in the middle of a quadrille?”
“If I could do more than focus on the footsteps while dancing, then perhaps.” The little imp gave him the smirk that he had been missing for days.
“Well, we will have to thank God for small miracles.”
“You have found a sense of humor, Windham. That is good. I was beginning to worry that there was never going to be a day when you smiled. I fear for the wrinkles that are longing to develop.”
“Two barbs for the price of one. I am impressed, Isabelle. You have not only insulted my sense of humor but my age as well.” Felix’s hands fell loose at his sides as they stepped into the apple orchard that grew at the far end of the property. Though it was small, it was the envy of several people in theton.
She laughed and looked up at the canopy of green leaves above her. “The man I marry must be able to laugh with me as well. I will not bear a home without laughter. I would sooner run away to a nunnery.”
Felix snorted and looked at her like she had three heads. “They would turn you away at the door.”
“You insult me, Your Grace.”
“And just like that you have become proper once more.” Felix shook his head. “I still fail to understand you.”
“I am an enigma that I fear you may never solve,” she teased, mischief shining bright in her eyes as her cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink. She was beautiful in the green-tinted sunlight that filtered through the trees.
There would be a long line of men at his door after she made her formal debut at the first ball of the season, of that much he was certain. However, if those same men saw her like this, in the late afternoon sun and entirely carefree, he would have offers for her hand on sight.
Few men would know how to be with a woman like her. It was that simple fact that made guilt curl low in his stomach. He wished that there was a better way to have her married off. One in which he had time to choose someone who would complement her personality.
Isabelle nudged him lightly with her elbow. “You look lost in thought.”
“I am thinking about the dredges of society I will need to scrape through to find you a husband with teeth and a sense of humor. That is a rather tall order, Miss Alden.”
She laughed and turned, walking backward with ease and facing him. “The dredges? I would think you would have to sink far lower than that to find a suitable fit for me.”
He grinned, his cheeks aching for the first time in what felt like years. “I doubt I will have to sink that far to find a man who would like to marry you.”
“Perhaps you are correct. You do know these men after all. Are they going to allow a loud American into their homes who prefers to spend her days painting and reading to baking?”
“If we find you a rich enough husband, you will not have to lift a finger. There will be staff willing to do everything for you.”
“I don’t think I would like that much either.” Isabelle stopped walking and leaned against one of the trees. “Why do you not marry? Surely you would be able to find a wife who would have a dowry large enough to help your family.”
“I have been deemed a brute.”
