Isobel started at the sensation and, somewhat alarmed, she pushed against his shoulders, trying to step away from him. He let her go instantly, and stood looking down at her in the faint light, a satisfied smile on his lips. Isobel attempted to collect her scattered thoughts, and inwardly chastised herself for allowing the waltz, the man, and the moment to go to her head.
"I hope you are still enjoying your return to London, and that, after a few weeks, the novelty has not worn off," she remarked inanely, then wished she could eat the words one by one.
"Oh, I am enjoying beyond expression my time in London," observed his lordship, with a grin. His lazy eyes sought out Isobel's again. She could see the amusement lurking in them. "However, London by itself does not hold the charm for me that it once did. While it is pleasant to admire the many ornamental personages at the various assemblies, I find that their beauty is no substitute for sensible conversation, which often seems to be sadly lacking."
"How serious you are," responded Isobel slowly regaining her equilibrium. She glanced up at him through her lashes, thinking how very comfortable he seemed at this moment, while she was all aflutter. "This is a time for gaiety, not philosophizing. One does not attend balls for sensible conversation. You should dance and enjoy yourself, not indulge in mournful thoughts."
"Oh, my thoughts are not mournful at all, now that I have found you. I have found that you can provide more intelligent conversation in ten minutes than I have heard in the last se'ennight."
"I am not sure if I should feel complimented, sir," said Isobel. "Sense and intelligence are not highly prized in gently-bred females."
"When they are combined with beauty and kindness, there is nothing more attractive," said Lord Francis, raising her hand to his lips. "I seek a woman who can engage my mind as well as my heart."
"You are asking a great deal," said Isobel, turning her head away. Her heart had jumped when Lord Francis had claimed to admire intelligence as well as beauty, and for this she took herself severely to task. He was indulging in a flirtation with her, and could hardly be trusted at his word. Doubtless many another woman would hear such pretty speeches this night. "No woman could possibly combine all these virtues you describe."
"On the contrary, ma'am," said Lord Francis. "I had despaired of finding one such, but now I have discovered her." He gave her a curiously intent look, as though attempting to gauge her response.
Isobel's mouth felt curiously dry and she experienced a peculiar sensation in her stomach. "You must introduce me to this paragon, my lord," she said. "I fear I shall be most jealous of one so accomplished."
"You have no need to be jealous of any woman, Miss Paley," said Lord Francis. "You are indeed that paragon."
Isobel's hands fluttered by her sides, and Lord Francis gathered them into his strong grip. "Surely you cannot mistake my meaning, Miss Paley," he said, looking into her eyes. His own had lost their customary lazy geniality, and his voice was quick and sure.
"I...Lord Francis, surely...I cannot..." Isobel was amazed to find herself struggling for words. She felt quite foolish, stammering like a schoolgirl. His meaning was clear, and his manner almost possessive, yet she could not say she truly found her situation unpleasant. She did not feel threatened by his actions, and yet she found herself short of breath. She looked up at him with a perplexed expression.
"I promise you, if you can bring yourself to trust me you will not regret it," said Lord Francis.
Isobel did not know how to respond. She knew Lord Francis was treading where she would rather he did not, and that she should gather herself and demand he should return her to the ballroom. Yet she was deeply disappointed when her partner for the next dance appeared at the door just then and hailed her.
"Miss Paley! I believe I have this dance," he said. "We must not allow Lord Francis to so monopolize you. Your grace on the dance floor must be appreciated by all."
Isobel reluctantly withdrew her hands from Lord Francis's grip and turned towards the gentleman. She heard a sigh behind her as she departed on her escort's arm. She took one look back over her shoulder and saw that Lord Francis still watched her, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.
The rest of the evening passed in a whirl. Isobel danced with an uncounted number of young men, all of them pleasant, and yet, to her eyes, none of them memorable. At supper Lord Francis was the epitome of a polite gentleman; while he spoke not one word or made one gesture that could be interpreted as being out of the ordinary, it seemed to Isobel that his look was singularly intent and his manner proprietary. She supposed she should be annoyed at his marked preference for her, but somehow she could not work up any anger towards Lord Francis. It was, she decided, a most confusing situation in which she found herself.
Chapter 16
So much did Miss Paley feel this confusion, that the next day found her still abed long after she had usually risen, attended to any pressing household matters, and ridden in the park. Thus, when Lord Francis Wheaton arrived to call upon the ladies dwelling in Clarges Street, he was surprised to find only Lady Morgan in the sitting room. She was dressed very simply and reading a novel; she looked up with a quick smile when Lord Francis was announced.
"Good morning, Lord Francis," she said. "How pleasant to see you."
Lord Francis advanced and kissed her hand gracefully. If he was disappointed to find Lady Morgan alone, he was far too well‑bred to betray this in his countenance. Nonetheless, Lady Morgan seemed to have some inkling of his feelings.
"You are doubtless sorry to find Isobel absent," she observed. "I am afraid she is a trifle indisposed this morning; a most unusual occurrence. Still, we all deserve to take to our bed upon occasion."
Lord Francis felt obliged to offer a disclaimer. "How could I possibly be disappointed in my company, when it is made up of a lady as charming as you, Lady Morgan?" he said. "You vastly undervalue yourself."
"How kind of you to say so," said Lady Morgan. "And yet I continue to suspect that it was not my presence that drew you to Clarges Street this day."
Lord Francis smiled charmingly. It was clear to him that Lady Morgan was not to be deterred from her chosen topic of conversation. "Mayhap it is Miss Paley who is the main object of my attentions here, but I nonetheless enjoy the company of both you and Miss Harriet. A more winning combination of female virtues I am unlikely to find elsewhere."
"I believe that I speak for Miss Harriet as well as myself when I say that your visits here are most eagerly awaited," said Lady Morgan.
Lord Francis could not resist the opening this provided. "Is it only Lady Morgan and Miss Wolcott who enjoy my visits?" he asked.
Lady Morgan laughed. "Lord Francis, you are quite impossible. I am certain that you are entirely aware of your extraordinary charm of manner, and thus do not hesitate to berate you for so obviously fishing for information. How could Isobel possibly not enjoy your most pointed attention to her?"
"I am sometimes led to believe by Miss Paley's words and actions that she would prefer I did not continue to visit her," said Lord Francis. For once his speech was not drawling, and his eyes held a serious look.
Lady Morgan appeared to be choosing her words with care. "It is not that she does not enjoy your visits, Lord Francis. I am sure that you have spent sufficient time with Isobel to be certain of the fact that your temperaments are remarkably complementary. However, the lady in question is careful not to be taken in by the merely glib and likeable."
Lord Francis made an impatient gesture. "You and I talk at cross‑purposes, ma'am. As I believe that you stand something in the light of a sister to Miss Paley, I will speak plainly. I have spent considerable years, both here and elsewhere, acquainting myself with any number of women. Never have I met one who appeals to me as strongly as Miss Paley. I have gone out of my way to be agreeable, and yet she avoids me at every turn. I admit to considerable frustration with the object of my interest."
"This is plain speaking, indeed, sir," said Lady Morgan. "And I would be l
oathe to gossip about my very dear friend. Yet you must by this time be aware that Isobel has resisted the lures of any number of very eligible gentlemen. She is a woman who is quite content to care for herself and secure her own interests without need to account to others."
" I am glad she has resisted the blandishments of others, for now I can press my case. I cannot believe that my attentions are repugnant to her, and yet she constantly flees from me," said Lord Francis.
"If you are truly certain of your choice, then you must convince Isobel. My feelings about the matter, alas, will do you no good," said Letitia. "And you must be patient; she has not known you long enough to be certain of the strength of your attachment."
"I do not know how I can demonstrate to Miss Paley more clearly that my affection is fixed on her," said Lord Francis. "I do not see why we should play out an extended comedy, when we could be enjoying one another's company on a continual basis."
Letitia shook her head. "All I can counsel, Lord Francis, is patience and good will. You do not do well to attempt to hurry Isobel; she makes her choices wisely and will not be dictated to."
Lord Francis was prevented from replying to this by the arrival of Miss Wolcott, who was delighted that so charming a gentlemen was visiting them, and desired to know every detail of the previous evening's entertainment, which she was sure had been utterly delightful, though a wretched headache had prevented her from attending the festivities herself. The topic of conversation was quickly changed, and not returned to, although both Lady Morgan and Lord Francis found they had a great deal to think about.
When Isobel descended from her boudoir quite late in the afternoon, she found Letitia waiting for her in the sitting room. Lady Morgan looked up from her book with a quick smile.
"I hope you are feeling much better," she said. "I am quite exhausted with greeting your visitors, none of whom seemed to believe that you were genuinely out‑of‑sorts. Your renowned good health has made me appear to be a liar."
Isobel laughed. "I am sorry to make you carry the burden of greeting so many callers, but I cannot say I am sorry to have missed them all. Pray, who has been here?"
Letitia ticked them off on her fingers. "There was Mrs. Camelton and her daughter, and Sir Anthony Melcham, and Lady Cannington. Oh, of course I must not forget Lady Jersey, who was most annoyed with me for denying you to her. She seemed to think that I perhaps had you concealed somewhere about my person. And Major Lord Francis Wheaton," she concluded, with a quick glance at Isobel's face.
Letitia was astounded to see Isobel color.
"Oh, was he indeed here?" Isobel asked weakly.
"Surely that is not such an unlikely occurrence?" said Letitia. "You two have seen a great deal of one another of late."
"It is impossible not to see a great a deal of a gentleman who is living in one's home," said Isobel, somewhat defensively.
"It would seem that he continues to seek you out in London," said Letitia.
"Yes, so it would seem," said Isobel abstractedly.
"You cannot be unaware that his attentions have been most particular," said Letitia, "You must realize that a proposal of marriage may be imminent."
Isobel looked down at her hands. "If Lord Francis were to do something so foolish, I am afraid he would have to suffer the consequences. I am not inclined to entertain marriage offers."
"Isobel, why this determination against Lord Francis?" asked Letitia. "Surely, a man who truly loved you would be able to countenance the eccentricity of your scholarship. Lord Francis seems to be such a man; his interest in you apparently goes far beyond your pretty face and large fortune. He has no need of your wealth, there are dozens of lovely girls who are far more docile than you to be found in London this Season, and he can scarcely be unaware of the quirks of your nature."
Isobel hesitated. She could hardly indicate to Letitia that, as much as she loved her, she could not feel that her judgment in the matter of men was entirely sound. Although she had to admit if she was being entirely fair, she had been taken in by Lord Morgan as well; he had appeared to her to be a perfect match for Letitia. For all Lord Francis' charm and seeming steadiness of character, she had not known him long enough to judge his constancy.
"I cannot guess on such short acquaintance how Lord Francis' actions may be interpreted," she said. "I only know that if he is seeking to fix my interest, it will take a great deal more than pretty words and graceful dancing."
Letitia sighed. "I cannot pressure you on this, Isobel, for I know your many concerns. Still, you would do well to consider carefully your feelings for the gentleman, as I believe he is not only quite smitten with you, but worthy of you as well."
Isobel stood up, her fingers entwined, and a look of agitation on her face. "Letty, I do find Lord Francis charming, attractive, well informed, an amusing companion, in short, a man with all of the characteristics that appeal to me." She began pacing about the sitting room. "I am also aware that he is likely to make me a proposal of marriage; we had a most particular conversation last night at Perchingham House." Isobel’s voice trailed off, and she stopped at the mantel, staring into the fire. Letty watched her silently.
"But, I truly do not want to put my person and fortune at risk by marrying, nor, in our modern age, do I deem it necessary for a woman who can support herself, to submit to the rule of a man. " She resumed her pacing, " I have been rereading Miss Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Women in the past week, and--"
"Oh, Isobel, surely you will not let the radical words of the free thinkers control you?" Letitia interrupted.
"Why, pray tell, should I let a man or absurd outmoded laws rule me, rather than common sense, however radical?" Isobel retorted. Letitia realized her response had been unhelpful and fell silent.
"The thing is Letty, that I find that I am in a fair way to being very much attached to Lord Francis, but I do not wish to marry. I have thought about this at great length, and I find that I also don’t wish to send him away completely, or to live a life from which the love of a man is entirely absent." Isobel paused, clearly struggling for words. "Letty, do you suppose that I could indicate to him very delicately, that I might look favorably on a more intimate connection outside the bounds of marriage?" she finally burst out.
For a few seconds, silence reigned. Letitia gave her a perplexed look. Never once had Isobel asked her about the physical side of marriage, or shown any interest in the topic at all. Now she was suddenly proposing an affaire with Lord Francis. Clearly, the couple had progressed further than Letitia had imagined. Isobel had been kissed, and more than once if Letitia guessed correctly. She folded her hands in her lap.
"What would make you consider such a thing?" she asked.
Isobel blushed to the roots of her hair. "I—I have realized of late that perhaps there is something that perhaps I have—have overlooked in the relationship between men and women. But I see no reason why I would have to marry a man in order to enjoy this—this activity," she said.
"Lord Francis did not suggest this, did he?" asked Letitia.
"No, not at all," said Isobel. "But I—I have reason to think that he might not be adverse to a closer to connection with me."
Letitia had no doubts at all on that front. "Isobel, what you are proposing is very shocking," she said.
"I know," said Isobel. "But truly, it may be for the best. After all, Miss Wollstonecraft says ‘The laws respecting woman, make an absurd unit of a man and his wife, and then by the easy transition of considering him as responsible, she is reduced to a mere cypher,’ and while I am perfectly determined never to marry, I see no reason why I must live my entire life celibate. It is nonsensical to think I should waste my youth that way."
Letitia gazed at Isobel thoughtfully. She found it difficult to believe that Isobel was the sort of woman who would be happy for long in the position of a man’s mistress, but she was equally sure that her stubbornness would keep her from ever allowing Lord Francis to cajole her into marriage. Perhap
s it would be best if Isobel were to learn the very pleasant way that a man could make her feel. And if she were to become intimate with Lord Francis, that might give him the opportunity to convince her that his intentions were serious. At worst, Isobel would return to her life as a wealthy spinster, but at least would have had the experience of physical joy that so many other women, such as Harriet, lacked.
"I suppose you will be shocked when I say this," she ventured, "but I think perhaps you should act on this plan."
Isobel stopped pacing and stared at Letty, thunderstruck. "You do?" she said in astounded accents.
Letitia suppressed the laugh that rose in her throat and nodded. "I do indeed. Lord Francis is very handsome, and I would imagine he has considerable experience, which would make things, um, more comfortable for you. He seems to be fond of you, and would treat you gently. I think that this is an admirable plan."
Isobel sat down abruptly next to her. "But I am proposing to be intimate with Lord Francis without marrying him," she said.
"I understood you the first time," said Letty. "After all, you are an independent woman with your own fortune and a keen mind. There is no reason you should not do those things that will make you happy. So long as you are discreet, of course," she added.
"Yes, you are right," said Isobel, both relieved and perturbed by Letitia’s support. A new thought occurred to her. "How do you suppose I should propose this to him?"
"There I cannot help you, having never done such a thing," said Letty. "I suppose the right moment will present itself, and you must seize it."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Isobel. She thought of the happenings on the terrace at the Perchingham ball. "You are probably right, Letty."
"I wish you the best of luck," said Letitia.
"Thank you," said Isobel. She glanced at Letitia, still surprised at her friend’s approval of her scandalous plan. She had expected, and she reluctantly admitted, probably hoped, that Letty would discourage her from taking such a radical path.
A Lady of Passion: Isobel's After Dark Regency Romance Page 12
