“His official title was my father’s valet, but in truth, he was my father’s partner in everything, as my mother was before him. Which included raising me. And now he stands in his stead.” She glanced at her lap, her voice achingly soft. “Just without the histrionics my father would’ve resorted to if he did not care for Weiss and was in danger of not getting his way. They were different people, which is why they were suited. A true love match.”
Isabelle lifted her chin and frowned, the dimple disappearing. “Do you know what’s odious?” Pushing herself up on the table, she sat next to him, her legs and skirts dangling over the edge. “People won’t cease discussing things like happiness when it comes to all of this.” She gestured toward the raucous sounds of the festival. “As if because I have funds, the most ephemeral concept of the emotion should be within my grasp. What no one seems to understand is that my happiness is linked to the duties and responsibilities they bring.”
She pointed a finger at her chest. “Everything I want and need is here—the people I care about and will do anything to protect, who are plenty to worry over and hold on to as tightly as I can. The business my grandfather built and my father expanded—a business to be proud of, that I deserve to be a part of too.” She clasped her hands together as she turned to him. “My father’s legacy is here, and without me guarding it . . .”
“You fear no one will.” Aaron closed his eyes as a large piece of the puzzle slid into place.
“Without me, what if no one remembers he existed? If I’m subsumed into another identity—another family—will he not die again?” She drew closer, so near he could see the rise and fall of her chest against her bodice. “This time at my hand.”
“But you won’t let that happen.” He believed that. She would move mountains for her father’s ghost.
“No.” Her eyes shone. “I will fight for what he fought for, to honor him as best I can. Keep his memory preserved forever. No matter how foolish that seems.”
“Not foolish. You love him.” And she would protect that love above all else.
Even herself.
“I do.” Isabelle rubbed her neck before giving him a rueful smile. “I want him back. I know I can’t have him back, but this is the next best thing. I’ll be wise and strong and clever and not permit myself to be distracted by anything. No wants, no treacly emotions to muddle one’s decision-making. I need a husband who will support those goals, not a storybook prince. I will make the correct choice. I have to. And so . . .”
And so she needed something from him. The truth—what the Berabs had said. No matter the cost to him.
He tilted away from her, forcing himself back to his objective. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Aaron held his breath, searching for the right words to convey the situation properly, to make sure she did what was right for her and for the community, without concern for him. Because she did not need the extra muddle.
Isabelle gave him a curt, queenly nod. He coughed.
Oy. Why was this so difficult? She needed to know. She specialized in risks and prided herself on analyzing them all. She wanted the information. All he needed to do was talk.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think marrying Weiss might undermine your broader objectives?”
She blinked. “Which ones?”
“Preserving your family’s power and influence.” He cleared his throat. “The gentiles could be insulted if you do not choose one of their favorites—a Jew who is not merely wealthy and learned, but who they find . . . more civilized.” He swallowed uncomfortably.
Isabelle only frowned, raising an imperious eyebrow.
“From your part of the community,” he added. “Which you have avoided.”
“For good reason,” she countered.
“I know the Duke of Sussex has indicated his preference for Sephardi men.” Aaron shook his head, cursing the man. “And few have comparable connections and standing—or longevity in England like—”
“The Berabs,” she finished with a roll of her eyes. “Let me guess—David approached you with this argument?”
Aaron stared at her for a moment. Oy, she truly was sharp. “I, um . . . No, not him. The other two.”
“Louis and Roger?” Her expression became thoughtful. “Interesting. I’d always assumed they hired others to do anything which would require exertion on their part.”
“But you see the merit in their argument, do you not?” he said, knitting his hands a little. “Even if the bill doesn’t fall apart, Weiss or someone like him isn’t exactly what the gentiles are used to.”
And to his great surprise, she laughed. Loudly. Beautifully. A full, enchanting laugh that lit her entire face, so much so he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Are you all right?” he managed to ask, even as he could not stop staring.
“Very much,” she said between giggles. “This is just delicious. And also inept.”
“What do you mean?” Aaron shook a little, trying to make sense of her words and, more, her reactions to his.
