Isabelle looked to the Dowager Duchess. She gave her a small smile and, although the Dowager’s eyebrows pulled together, she gave a short nod.
The lord shifted on the patterned couch and offered another smile. “I hear that you are quite adept at painting. Based upon the paint on your fingers I would assume that description is rather accurate?”
“Some days I am.” Isabelle picked at more of the green paint. “And yet there are others still when I cannot for the life of me seem to paint something as simple as a circle.”
He let out a warm laugh that had her easing back into the cushions. Even though Lord Milton’s intention hadn’t been to marry, he was also looking for the easiest solution to meet his societal obligations.
There may be a way for the two of us to work together and both get what we want.
She would flirt with him and charm him, for he was the best prospect she had. However, she would have to forget about Felix’s kiss if she truly wanted to move forward into a new life with Lord Milton. Once she had accomplished that, she would make her true intentions known to the lord. Hopefully, he would see the sense in her proposal.
After all, what was the point of having as much land as he did without having children to inherit it?
Lord Milton smiled and leaned closer to her. “After our promenade, I thought we might have tea together. I would like to make my intentions with you known.”
Her heart raced as she gave him a smile, tucking a loose strand of her behind her ear. “Intentions that you didn’t declare at the Fitzroy ball? I had thought that you said everything there was to say.”
He chuckled and reached for that same strand, but instead of pulling it out as Windham would’ve done, he smoothed it back further, tucking the edges into her pin and making sure not a hair was out of place.
“You are so beautiful when you wear your hair up.”
“And here I thought I was beautiful all the time,” she said, leaning in and smoothing down the collar of his shirt. “If my hair worn back is what you prefer, then I will ensure that not a single hair is out of place when we’re together.”
Lord Milton beamed—though she suspected that it was because she agreed to do what he wanted—and settled back into the cushions. He draped his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against her shoulder.
“When we are married, you shall have a painting studio at Milton Manor and we shall take trips to America to see your family.”
Isabelle paused at that, looking at him like she didn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean that? We can visit my parents?”
“Of course.”
Perhaps this marriage really won’t be so bad. Companionship and I can see my family. There’s nothing more I could want.
Lord Milton smiled as he reached out to smooth another loose curl from her face. “We’ll travel to see them after the wedding, before you are pregnant.”
Isabelle’s cheeks flamed. “You will have to speak to Windham then, about your intentions and if we are to formally court.”
“I’ll speak to him as soon as my schedule permits.”
This might not be what she wanted for her future, but Lord Milton was her only option.
Later that night, Isabelle sat by the fire with a book in her lap, her legs curled beneath her on the couch.
“You were with Milton for a long time today.”
She looked up from her book to see Windham leaning against the doorway. He frowned as he looked at her, the corners of his eyes narrowing quizzically.
Isabelle returned her attention to her book.
“Is that it?” Windham asked, his tone incredulous. “You have spent far more of my time than I care to think about, telling me things I would never care to talk about, but now that I do wish to speak to you, you have nothing left to say to me?”
“Convenient how this once again seems to be on your time, is it not?” Isabelle flipped the page, but she was no longer paying attention to the sentences in her book.
It was hard for her to think about Windham and anything other than the way he was looking at her.
As he entered the room and sat down in one of the nearby armchairs, Isabelle felt like her soul was coming back to life. He kicked his feet up onto the ottoman in front of him, but his gaze never left her.
“I do not understand why you would be bothered about myself and Lord Milton spending more time together. Did you not state earlier that he did not wish to marry and that he would make a good friend for me? It certainly appears that I am not destined to have friendships with any of thewomenhere, therefore my friendship options have grown rather slim.”
