Jamie yelled with surprise and started jumping about, trying to rid herself of the creature, while Isabella and Anthony both sat back on their haunches and laughed at how funny she looked.
“I’ll get you for that, Kingsborough,” Jamie grinned as the frog fell from beneath her clothing and started hopping away.
“Not if I get you first,” Anthony said, leaping to his feet and chasing after the girl until, catching her, he proceeded to give her a good tickle.
Jamie squealed, laughing harder until she eventually begged for Anthony to have mercy on her.
“It looks as though you’ve finally met your match, Jamie,” Isabella said as she came toward them with a sparkle in her eyes that told Anthony that she highly approved of the way in which he’d handled her naughty sibling.
“And he, in turn, has passed the test,” Jamie said happily as she stuck out her hand toward Anthony. “It’s an honor to know you, Your Grace.”
The girl’s words warmed Anthony’s heart, encouraging him in his plea for Isabella’s hand, for there was acceptance to be found in them. With a bow, Anthony bid Jamie and Isabella good day, whereupon he started down the path feeling both lighthearted and cheerful.
He could feel Isabella’s eyes upon him as he strolled away from the cottage and made his way back toward Main Street, where he found his carriage waiting. Climbing in, he settled himself against the seat with a smile. That had gone rather well, he thought, and with the Chilcotts now on his side, there was no question that Isabella would soon be his wife. The day had definitely gotten a whole lot brighter.
Chapter 22
“Heaven above, you can’t be serious!” The exclamation came from the duchess a split second after Anthony announced that Isabella was in fact the granddaughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Deerford, not to mention daughter of the infamous Lady Margaret.
Anthony would not have been surprised if she’d had a fit of the vapors, but instead she just reached for her sherry and took what most would have considered to be an inappropriately large sip. Anthony smiled. He then explained the situation regarding Mr. Roberts, adding that he and Mr. Chilcott would have a word with him together. “So please don’t mention anything about my forthcoming proposal when they visit. I’d like to do this by the book and without another man’s intention to offer marriage hanging over us.”
“Yes,” his mother agreed, chasing her previous sip of sherry with another. “I think that’s a wise decision—one that will be more likely to ensure Miss Chilcott’s acceptance.” A crease appeared upon her forehead and she leaned toward him, tilting her head a little as she did so. “What about her ... identity though? I assume her parents will apprise her of that?”
“I have explained how important it is that they do so immediately,” Anthony said, hoping that they would be wise enough to follow his advice. “I believe they were in agreement when I left.”
“Good ... good ...” The duchess nodded and down went another sip of sherry.
This was clearly a situation that called for fortification as far as she was concerned.Hell, Anthony mused,it’s a situation that has made me turn to brandy more than once.
His smile broadened as he raised his own glass to his lips and swallowed.
“And the letter?” his mother asked, nodding toward the missive that was lying on his desk. It had come from Lucien Marvaine, the Earl of Roxberry, assuring him that the culprit behind the shooting had been apprehended. There was nothing further however, no mention of who the perpetrator was, but a postscript suggesting that Anthony come to Roxberry Manor so Roxberry could apprise him of everything that had happened.
“The earl will have to wait,” Anthony said. “As eager as I am to discover why Lady Rebecca was shot, everything else is just a matter of formality. After all, the villain has been caught. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”
Leaning back in his chair, he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though a positive outcome was finally within reach. Tomorrow, Isabella would come for tea with her parents, after which, he and Mr. Chilcott would seek out Mr. Roberts and tell him that he’d best forget whatever plans he had of marrying Isabella. Once this was done, Anthony would offer Isabella a proper proposal, and with Mr. Roberts having by then released her of all obligation toward him, she would be bound to say yes. Anthony was sure of it. Tomorrow could scarcely come fast enough.
Isabella was in shock. It was the only way to describe what she felt after everything her parents had told her. It was also the only way to explain why she wasn’t furious with either one of them. She was a lady, the granddaughter of a marquess, and they’d kept this from her for eighteen years. Dear God, their existence was probably the best-guarded secret in all the British Isles and beyond. And now she was supposed to hop into the ducal carriage that had come to collect her and her parents, drive up to Kingsborough Hall and sit down to tea with the duke and dowager duchess.
She’d always dreamed of living a fairy-tale existence, but she was starting to think that whoever was penning this one had gotten a few details terribly wrong. What a muddle and what a deception. Yet in spite of it all, she was happy, because for the very first time since meeting the duke, she felt a spark of hope. “Does he know about this?” she’d asked her parents the previous evening, when they’d finally told her the truth. “Is the duke aware of who you are, Mama? Of whoIam?”
“Yes, my dear, he knows, though he has only discovered it this afternoon.”
“When he came to visit?”
They’d both nodded, and Isabella, her curiosity satisfied, had kept quiet. One thought, however, had remained in her head with deep determination:“There is only one woman for whom I hold an interest. Unfortunately, she is quite determined to marry someone else.”He’d been hoping that she would agree to marry him in spite of everything. But how could she, with the hold Mr. Roberts had on her? Even now it would be difficult to go back on her agreement, or more precisely, her father’s agreement. His honor would be questioned and ... Isabella dared not think of what might happen if Mr. Roberts revealed himself to be the spiteful sort.
Worse was the fact that if she did accept Anthony’s proposal now, he might not think her heart was in it, believing that her yes was determined by her newfound status. Heaven help her, but it was complicated. So she decided not to think about it overly much, enjoying her parents’ company instead as the carriage rattled along the road, swaying gently as it turned up the driveway toward Kingsborough Hall.
As soon as the carriage pulled up to the front door, the steps were set down by one footman while another opened the carriage door, each standing to attention on either side as they offered their white gloved hands and helped the guests alight. Gravel crunched beneath Isabella’s slippers as she stood staring up at the gray stone edifice, with its sunken windows and pointy turrets, thinking of the man who lived beyond these walls. She decided that the building and the man didn’t suit. The building was far too austere for such a kind and quirky soul.
Quirky.
She focused on the word and couldn’t stop herself from smiling. It suited him. There probably weren’t many dukes around who collected bits and bobs—seeing in someone else’s junk the possibility for art.
Artist.
Isabella’s smile broadened. Perhaps the building did suit him after all, for she could certainly imagine it as inspirational fodder for his creative mind.
