by Tamara Gill
“Do you still feel hurt by his marriage?”
Isolde sighed, not wanting to declare just what a severing to her soul he’d administered. How much they’d both hurt her. “I think back to how we had been and what happened that night, and it just doesn’t make sense to me. I trusted him, wholeheartedly, and he broke that trust in the worst way imaginable. Watching him marry Miss Hart almost killed me. The day before, we’d been celebrating our forthcoming nuptials, and the next day I witnessed him marrying someone else.” How could she put into voice that each word Merrick and Leonora had spoken in front of the priest had been like a stab through her heart? To see someone else promise herself to the man who’d made up all that she’d ever wished for had been a slow, painful death. It was what nightmares were made of.
Alice pulled her into another embrace, and she went willingly to her sister’s comforting welcome. “I’m so sorry, Isolde. You did not deserve what they did to you.”
“I know you are, and so am I. The mistakes we made that night are not only Merrick’s. I must admit, I should have listened to him, believed him over Leonora. Father, too, for that matter. Had we, maybe my life would be far different than it is now.”
“Did His Grace try to explain?”
She sighed, furious at herself for not listening, as she should have. “He did, but I was of half an ear and not thinking clearly. Papa and Josh weren’t interested in his excuses, and Merrick was forced to marry Leonora. But I have wondered how I could’ve dismissed him so, not believed him over Leonora when he had been, in fact, my best friend. The man I loved and trusted beyond anyone. I was not fair, and I sometimes think that the hell we live is because I could not swallow my pride or tell my father to keep his at bay. I lost him. I allowed him to marry someone else.”
Isolde sat before the unlit hearth, a chill running through her veins. “He stated he did not know it was Miss Hart who snuck into his room, said that she’d tricked him.”
“And if she did,” Alice said, joining her, “I would certainly not put it past Miss Hart. She was always jealous of you.”
“Father refused me leave to speak to Merrick alone to get to the bottom of what happened. I think, should he have convinced me of his innocence, I would’ve run away to make him my husband. But that is not how it played out, and so we must move on and live as our lives dictate.”
“That is very sad, Isolde and I’m sorry for you.”
Isolde smiled, rallying her spirits. “Don’t be, for I’m determined to make this Season fun and perhaps end with a happily-ever-after of my own.”
Alice sat on a chair across from her, grinning. “I’m going to make it my Season’s duty to ensure that’s exactly what will occur. Now.” Alice stood, walking to Isolde’s armoire. “We need to find you the most scandalous, delectable gown you own for tomorrow night’s soiree. Heads shall turn. I’ll not have it any other way.”
Isolde laughed, excitement thrumming through her veins. “Perhaps the red silk net gown with the embroidered chenille thread? It looks beautiful on.”
Alice lifted out the gown and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, this will do nicely. And perhaps Mama will loan you her rose garnets?”
“She’s already said she would.” Isolde grinned.
“La! What a shame the soiree isn’t tonight. Tomorrow seems too many hours away.”
Isolde smiled at her younger sister but didn’t reply. Tomorrow night was soon enough, and hopefully, the scandal of her broken engagement was something that the ton had long forgotten.
Chapter Five
The following evening, as her maid applied the last pins to her hair that was swept up in an abundance of curls with a string of garnets woven throughout, Isolde looked at what she would present to the ton.
The transparent red silk net gown sat perfectly over the ivory dress beneath, and her skin looked flawless. The cut was a little risqué for an unmarried woman, but she was no blushing debutante. Some considered her a woman practically on the shelf.
The tight corset pushed up her breasts but Isolde decided against using a fichu. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by what she wore. What if some of the older matrons looked at her with disapproval? Never again would she hide from their censure. From tonight forward, she would hold her head high and let them talk, should they be shallow enough to gossip over something as trivial as a dress.
She grinned, nodding at her reflection. “I think I’m ready.” Surely she could catch a husband while in Town. If her own merits as a duke’s daughter were not warrant enough, perhaps her ample dowry would sway the reserved fellows. Barring that, her breasts really did show to advantage in this dress.
The ride to Viscount Chudley’s was short due to its close proximity to their home. Carriages lined the road and waited for passengers to disembark for their first of many outings this night. By the time Isolde had reached the ballroom doors, the room was filled to its capacity.
They made their addresses to their host and hostess before slowly progressing into the throng. She recognized scores of acquaintances and paused to speak with many of them. It had been so long since she’d experienced Society, the rush of delight at seeing so many people only reaffirmed that her choice to return to town was the right one.
Her sisters stood sedately beside her, yet their faces were animated and glowing with expectation. She spotted Lord Kinruth waltzing with Anne and smiled when her dear friend waved across the floor.
“Your friend Lady Kinruth seems an affable woman.”
Isolde nodded in agreement. “She has such a sweet temperament. I do adore her.”
“So does Lord Kinruth, it seems,” Alice said, watching the pair and smiling.
Isolde couldn’t agree more. She turned to study her younger sisters, their modest jewelry, their gowns—the height of fashion—were beautiful but plain, not that either one needed accessories to heighten their beauty. Both would have suitors coming from every corner of the ball.
“Mama, are there any suitors who I must meet and form an opinion of? Only the best for my siblings.” Alice laughed at Isolde’s words, but Victoria, annoyed at being at a ball and not a hunt out in the middle of the country, merely turned up her nose in distaste.
“Very much so, but the poor dear fellows are too scared to do anything about it. To court a duke’s daughter takes courage, especially a Worthingham who has a protective brother.”
Isolde nodded, understanding only too well how Josh could be toward his own sex, especially when it came to his sisters. And they loved him all the more for it. “In any case, that’s not good enough. It is one thing for me to be on the shelf, but I cannot allow Alice or Victoria to suffer the same fate.” Across the room, she spotted a gaggle of young debutantes surrounded by a bevy of beaus. “Alice and Victoria, go mingle and be merry. Perhaps if you’re not standing beside Mother and me, someone will ask you to dance.”
Her mother grinned, and, with a tinge of jealousy, Isolde watched her sisters move off toward their friends. How nice it would be to have no other cares but to fall in love and be loved. Not trying to forget a pain that, despite her valiant efforts, would not release her heart.
Isolde sighed. Have I made the right choice in coming back to Society? The possibility of seeing Merrick at every event maddened her, yet exhilarated her as well. And it should not. He deserved no mulling over whatsoever.
For all her talk of marriage, even if one of convenience only, it was another thing to go through with it. To say the vows that would bind her to another forever was not something to take lightly. Merrick had been the only man she’d ever loved. Adored, if she was being honest. How could she sleep with another, trust someone enough to give him her hand, after just one Season?
“What is the matter, dear? Please tell me.”
Isolde turned to her mama and took her arm, hugging it to her side. “Nothing, Mama, truly. All will end well. You’ll see.”
“Isolde, look at me.”
At her parent’s steely tone, Isolde met h
er gaze.
“You must move on. I know we’ve never spoken of the night before your wedding, but there is nothing for you there now. His Grace is married with a child, no matter how they came to be in such a situation. It is what it is.”
That was certainly the truth, but it still didn’t make it any easier. “I know it’s over. But I thought coming back to London would be easy. Yet I’m surrounded by my friends, all of whom are now married and have children of their own, while I’m standing beside my mother at a ball, still looking like some desperate debutante.” Her insecurities raised their pointy daggers. She felt sorry for herself. She hated that. It was not who she wanted to be. A vibrant, outgoing woman who turned heads was who she wanted to be. Not a woman others pitied.
“No daughter of a duke is ever desperate.”
At her mama’s words, she laughed, loving that her mother always spoke straight to the point. “No, I suppose you’re right.”
“I am, dearest, and I think it’s time you started to enjoy what a little age will allow. Enjoy this Season. Take risks. Not scandalous risks, mind, but see where you end up. You may surprise even yourself.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She had not realized her mother had seen the struggles she faced. As one of the oldest girls, she’d always been the sister who set an example, on her best behavior, with impeccable manners at all times.
She’d failed them, and her years in Scotland hadn’t helped her siblings in the least. “Do you really mean that?”
“I mean everything I say.” Her mother threw her a pointed stare before turning back to the throng. “I see your sisters are about to partake in a quadrille.”
Isolde turned to watch and was so amused by the dancers she didn’t notice the couple who came up beside them.
“Oh, it is. It really is her.”
At the high-pitched squeal, a chill sliced down her spine. It was a very familiar voice that Isolde had fought hard to forget. She turned, shocked to find Merrick and his duchess, who all but hung off his shoulder like a cloak, staring at her. “Your Grace,” Isolde said, nodding in welcome.
“My darling told me you were back in town, but I simply couldn’t believe it until I saw you for myself. Oh, how lovely. How I have missed you.” Although Leonora looked happy enough, her eyes were cold and devoid of any emotion other than annoyance.
Isolde’s mama stepped forward, putting herself a little in front of her. “Your social calendar has kept you active, Your Grace. I doubt very much you’ve thought of my daughter at all, being so busy thinking only of yourself these past five years.”
Isolde’s eyes widened at her mama’s cutting words before warmth bloomed in her heart. Her family was a core of strength for which she’d be forever grateful.
Leonora ignored her mother’s words and pulled Isolde into a most unwelcome embrace. Heat rose on Isolde’s cheeks, and she pushed the duchess away without causing a scene. “It has been a long time, Your Grace.” Not long enough.
Triumph glistened in Leonora’s eyes, and Isolde’s narrowed. “I’m all the better for seeing you again, my dearest friend. How we’ve missed not seeing you about London. To not have you a part of our life has been like losing a limb. And we have a son now. William is his name. He’s the dearest little boy and will be a wonderful duke one day.”
How had Isolde never noticed how false Leonora was? Without heart or feelings, she must be. Anyone with half a brain would realize that this little reunion was not easy for Isolde, and yet here Leonora was, pushing herself onto Isolde, as if they were still the best of friends. The woman was mad.
“You were always such a good friend to me and His Grace. Please tell us what is new with you.”
Isolde kept her opinion from spilling out on what she thought of her friendship with Leonora. Her mother’s words, “live a little,” spiked a pinch of feistiness into her soul, and she pulled her emotions into check. “I hope you’ve not been pining for me all these years, for I certainly have not been pining for you. I’ve enjoyed my time away from this world.” Isolde bit out the lie with a smile, not willing to let either of them see how much they’d hurt her.
“Weren’t you in Scotland? Dreary, cold clime if ever there was one.” Her Grace ran her hand down Merrick’s arm, and Isolde noted the duke cringed a little under his wife’s touch.
“Yes, I was in the north, but we frequented Edinburgh and traveled a lot. I was not without distraction.” What Isolde said was mostly true. She’d traveled with Anne and her husband, and had had fun with them when they’d attended balls and parties, but there’d always been the constant pain that came with being made a fool in front of all your friends.
Her gaze flicked to Merrick, and she caught him watching her, his eyes a wealth of emotions she no longer had the right to, although she’d learned to read him years ago. Isolde turned back to Her Grace and fought to keep acting the daughter of a duke, not a woman who wanted to scratch her old friend’s eyes out.
“We would’ve visited, but we’ve been so busy here in Town. I simply had no time to spare you. And then we had William, and there is hardly a moment left for a social life, you understand.”
“As I said, Isolde, the duchess is much occupied,” her mama said, taking her arm.
“Of course,” Isolde said, indifferently, “that is to be expected.”
Her Grace let out a loud guffaw, clasping her chest with drama that Isolde hadn’t seen since attending the theater last. “But you don’t understand, do you? A woman of your age, still unmarried and without a babe, wouldn’t know the pressures of Town life and what it is like to raise a child.” Leonora clasped Isolde’s hand, frowning with a falseness that was worth a prize. “Oh, my dearest, how I pity you. You must be desperate to have all that I do.”
Isolde’s blood drained from her face. She looked around the room, sure everyone was listening to the spiteful truth of Her Grace’s words. But instead of fleeing, which she longed to do, Isolde ripped her hand out of Leonora’s clasp and straightened her spine. “As a woman of independent means, I’ll marry when the time is right. Which I suppose is something you do not understand, as you had to marry money or you would’ve had none.”
Her mother covered her laugh with a cough, and Isolde smiled a little. “This Season is going to be so much fun, for me at least.” Isolde refused to meet Merrick’s gaze, which seared her skin. Love may never again be a point she’d look for in a marriage, but trust was paramount. All she required was a pleasant, stable gentleman who’d give her a future and children. She did indeed long for a child of her own. It would certainly make all the past hurts disappear. And she would cherish any man who could make such a dream come true.
Leonora glared at Isolde, her mouth pulling into a thin line of anger. “Of course,” Her Grace said, turning to her husband. “Alas, my husband promised me the waltz, and I do believe it is next.”
Isolde watched them join in with the other couples, sighing when the dance commenced. Her mother watched them also, her visage one of distaste. “Oh my dearest, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. If I had any idea that Her Grace would seek you out, I would’ve tried to keep you from her. What nerve she has.”
Isolde waved away her mother’s concerns. “I’m quite all right, I assure you. I was bound to run into her eventually.” It was done now, and she was stronger for it.
“Ah, I see your brother has arrived.”
Isolde smiled at Josh as he bowed to their hostess, noted their presence, and excused himself to join them. What a dashing brother she had, in his gold waistcoat and shining Hessians. “Good evening, Your Grace,” Isolde said, dipping into a deep curtsy.
He threw her a dubious look. “Josh or brother will do, if you please. I welcome such respect from other peers of the realm, but you, dear sister, need not adhere to those silly strictures of Society.”
Isolde laughed. “Well, thank the good Lord for that. We would hate to stand on ceremony.”
Josh looked her up and down, nodding in approva
l. “I say, you look very beautiful this evening. Care to accompany me on the floor? There is still time to join the waltz.”
Isolde placed her hand on his arm, only too willing to dance and take her mind off another duke and his wife who occupied the same ballroom. “Thank you for being my knight in shining armor. I thought I’d have to stand by and watch everyone else dance all night.”
He twirled her into position, taking her into his arms with authoritative ease. “I noticed who sought you out, and I couldn’t allow them to leave such a sullen look on your face.” He preened, and a few young ladies behind her sighed and tittered. “And I find dancing always improves one’s countenance…among other things,” he said, looking past her and no doubt at the young ladies behind, throwing them a smolder that would only increase their chatter.
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“What?” His surprised, innocent visage didn’t fool her in the least.
“You’re flirting.”
He scoffed. “Dukes do not flirt.”
The dance continued, and Isolde laughed beyond measure at Josh’s antics. He was trying to make her feel better, and it was working. When the dance came to an unfortunate end, he took her arm and led her toward their mother. “You do realize that we’re being watched.”
“We are?” Isolde looked about, and although she spotted a few members of their set watching them, it was nothing out of the ordinary. “I think you’re fibbing.”
“Mama told me you’re looking to be married by the end of the Season. Is this true?”
Isolde nodded to an acquaintance and answered her brother, “I am.”
“Don’t let the spiteful words from the Duchess of Moore make you act irrationally.” He sighed. “I fear Leonora’s marriage is not a happy one, for either of them, and she may say some things to you that might steer you away from the marriage state. Do not listen to her, if she does. She’s poison, Isolde.”
