seven
Isabella shut the concealed door and leant against it after Anthony had left.
What had happened? She wasn’t sure. Well, she’d hit and attacked a duke, disregarded etiquette, and asked him personal questions. Questions he’d answered, though. The truth was she hadn’t expected him to be so vulnerable and in need of a laugh underneath his stony composure. She felt sorry for him, and wasn’t that absurd?
He was a blasted duke, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. He had everything he wanted. Choosing a wife was a chore for him because noblewomen from half the world wanted to marry him.
Yet he carried a sadness so heavy she’d sensed it on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She couldn’t have refused when he’d asked her to visit Maiden Hill, but the visit posed a huge problem. Another secret meeting with the duke.
The sharp knock on the main door jolted her. “Isabella. Are you back?”
That was Helen.
She opened the door. “Yes?”
Helen and Mother slid inside, casting curious glances at her.
“What happened to your hair?” Mother asked at the same time as Helen asked, “Why did you stay behind?”
She braided her hair quickly. “I just needed a walk before going to bed, so I went to the library. Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”
What if Anthony had told Mother about the stairs? No, he wouldn’t say anything. She trusted him.
Mother exhaled. “You could avoid laughing loudly or making comments on the duke’s income. Or giggling?—”
Another knock interrupted her.
“What a busy night.” She opened the door and smiled at her father.
“I knew it.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek as if he hadn’t seen her in a long time. “Your mother and your sister are here to scold you, aren’t they?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Mother put her hands on her hips. “And I want to scold you as well. I specifically asked you both not to talk about politics.”
“It was my fault,” she said. “Father has nothing to do with that.”
Father huffed. “The Dowager asked you a question. You couldn’t refuse to answer.”
“You don’t realise how important this arrangement with the duke is.” Mother paced.
“The duke agreed with Isabella and me,” Father said. “I don’t believe we caused any damage.”
“Father is right. Don’t be so harsh, Mother.” Helen sat on the bed. “And I didn’t come here to scold Isabella. The Dowager trapped her in a complicated conversation. I want to know about you and Lord Patrick.”
At hearing Patrick’s name, her parents faced her.
She fixed her chignon again. “He’s charming and funny. I enjoy spending time with him.”
“Is he bothered by your wild manners?” Mother asked.
“Olivia.” Father exhaled.
“Patrick didn’t say anything about my manners. He told me he enjoyed my company, too.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Isabella married Patrick?” Helen’s joy sounded genuine. “I would feel less alone.”
Isabella didn’t have time to inquire about what Helen meant by that.
Mother didn’t share her enthusiasm. “We’ll see. Isabella won’t become a member of the Beaufort family unless her behaviour is impeccable.”
