Isabel frowned. “I still don’t understand.”
“We came to surprise you, Miss Isabel,” said Lord Pemperton as he smiled warmly at her, his cheeks that were covered in fuzzy gray hair spread wide. Despite his receding hairline, he was still quite handsome. “And it would hardly be a surprise if you knew it was coming.”
“Believe me, My Lord,” Isabel said. “I wouldn’t have expected this at all.”
“I told you.” Lady Pemperton looked over her shoulder at the Duke, who hadn’t moved from his spot. Isabel didn’t dare to look at him. “She is quite a bright young lady, but she doesn’t take the time out to think about such things.”
“That doesn’t make me sound like a bright young lady,” Isabel mumbled, and Lady Pemperton laughed.
Alice Dockery, the Marchioness of Pemperton, was much younger than the Marquess, though she had already raised two children who were now off with their own families. Isabel had always admired her beauty and her eye for fashion, not to mention she was quite possibly the bluntest person Isabel had ever known. The Marquess seemed to adore that about her, however. In fact, the Marquess seemed to adore nearly everything about her.
“But, why here?” Isabel asked. “And why now?”
Finally, the Duke spoke. He didn’t move from his spot but once he began speaking, everyone turned to face him. “You’ve mentioned a few times how much you missed the Marquess and his wife and so I thought it would be nice to have them over for breakfast. Also, there is a matter I would like to discuss with everyone.”
Isabel tensed at that. The Duke didn’t sound quite as warm as he usually did when he spoke to her. In fact, he sounded a little dismissive and standoffish.
Oh heavens, did I scare him away?
The thought frightened her but she struggled to rein it in. Perhaps it wasn’t as serious as she was suspecting. All that time spent with each other wouldn’t be dashed after a few words.
“There’s no need to cry now, my dear,” said Lady Pemperton, holding her tenderly by the arm. She had a tendency to touch the people around her. “You only need to know that we love you.”
“I love you, as well.” Isabel was far from crying. She appreciated seeing Lord and Lady Pemperton again. She looked over at Elisa, shooting her a grateful look. Elisa only gave her a nod, as if to say that it was nothing.
“Now, why don’t we begin?” said Lord Pemperton. “I’m simply famished.”
Isabel tried not to look at the Duke as she took her seat. A table had been moved into the room and, of course, the Duke sat at the head.
“Do you like it, Miss Isabel?” he asked to her in a low tone.
“I do, Your Grace,” Isabel responded, willing herself to keep calm. “Thank you for being so kind.”
“Kindness wasn’t the only thing encouraging me to do this,” he said and then he left it at that.
Isabel played her role well, falling easily into her usual self now that she was around the people she was most comfortable with, realizing that the Duke now fit into that category as well. Throughout breakfast, they laughed and talked. Lady Pemperton, though she was not as familiar with the Duke as her husband was, spoke to him as if they were old friends. The Duke was as sociable as everyone else, in a good mood despite what he had said.
Kindness isn’t the only thing encouraging him to do this? There’s something else at play here?
The question nagged at her, but she knew she could not possibly say it in front of the Marquess and his wife. Breakfast went by quickly and once it was done, Lady Pemperton suggested that they have tea before they left.
The table was cleared. Isabel rose and wandered over to the spot she used to stand in, realizing just how perfect it was for viewing the room completely. The Duke and Lord Pemperton were in a deep discussion that Isabel didn’t care to join.
“His Grace is a very handsome gentleman, is he not?”
Isabel jumped at the sound of Lady Pemperton’s voice. She had somehow snuck up on her from the side while Isabel had been staring at the Duke. “W-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Lady Pemperton pressed, coming to stand next to her. “He is quite handsome. He takes after his father very much.”
“I… I believe you are right, My Lady.”
“And very responsible and generous, as well. It was very kind of him to arrange this breakfast. He also told me that you missed us very much.”
Lady Pemperton tucked her arm into Isabel’s. “I missed you, too, you know. It’s so lonely in the manor without you.”
Isabel chuckled, glad that the conversation was no longer about the Duke. Lady Pemperton was as sharp as she was blunt and she would have no doubt picked up on Isabel’s feelings if they lingered too long. “What about Lord Pemperton?”
Lady Pemperton waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve lived with him for years. It’s nice to have new company once in a while, especially now that my own children have gone off to make families of their own.”
“It will be my turn soon.”
“Very soon,” Lady Pemperton said with a nod. “But there’s no need to worry. With a beautiful face like yours, you are sure to find a wonderful partner.”
Isabel didn’t answer. She only looked at the Duke, the one person she actually wanted. The thought of attending the London Season was repulsive to her now. She wanted to spend her time here, with the Duke. Talking, laughing, holding hands, kissing…
Her cheeks grew warmer as her thoughts turned to other things, things she’d never considered before.
“Ah, the tea is here.” Lady Pemperton pulled away from her and headed toward the servant bringing the steaming hot tea. Isabel followed slowly behind. Once again, she sat next to the Duke, though this was more by choice rather than custom and she tried her utmost not to be too obvious with her thoughts.
“Now that we have settled in a little more,” the Duke said, drawing everyone’s attention once again. “There is something I would like to address.”
Isabel perked up a bit, intrigued.
His eyes darted to her for a second. It was quick, so fast that she nearly missed it, but she saw the flash of emotion in them. It made her even more apprehensive.
“Now that my leg is healed, I will be going to France for a month,” he began. Isabel held her breath. She’d heard from the butler that the Napoleonic Wars were over, and that although the Duke was not a part of it physically, had funded the British Army greatly.
That isn’t so bad. He’ll be gone for a month and then he’ll be back. I’ll miss him, but of course, I’ll have Lady Pemperton and her husband to keep me company.
“And when I return, I will go to London for Miss Isabel’s debut. Lady Pemperton, I ask that you take her along with you to London and prepare her for this year’s Season.”
Isabel’s heart fell.
Lady Pemperton gasped, hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, truly, Your Grace?”
Isabel couldn’t look away from him if she tried. She wanted an indication, any she could latch onto, that he wasn’t serious. That he didn’t truly want that to happen.
But the Duke she’d been with over the past few months was not the one who sat before her right now. Her legal guardian was back, saying all the things he should be saying, instead of the things she hoped he would.
All that time spent with each other had been for nothing? Did he truly not care for her the way she did for him? At all? Even after she’d nearly spoken her feelings aloud last night, Isabel still harbored the thought that he was as fond of her as she was of him.
That’s the only way I can explain the…the…
“Your Grace…” Her voice was soft, barely audible, yet everyone paused to listen. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes, I am sure. You are now of age, Miss Isabel. It’s time that you’ve made your debut. I would also ask Lady Pemperton to oversee the debut, although I will be coming to aid her as Isabel’s guardian.”
“I would be honored, Your Grace,” Lady Pemperton said.
Isabel ha
rdly heard her. Her thoughts were just too loud. David had made up his mind and anything she could possibly say to try and discourage him were things she couldn’t say in front of Lord and Lady Pemperton.
She’d wait—until they were alone, until she could sort through her thoughts, until what he just said really sank in for her.
The Marquess and his wife began to discuss arrangements for her debut while she sat there like a log, unable to listen. She counted the seconds until they were done, until it was time for them to leave and she could be alone with the Duke.
She played along, pretending she was fine as she bid them goodbye. Then, when it was finally time, she looked at the Duke. “Your Grace, I…I didn’t expect this.”
Sitting as he was right now, it was hard to see how he had spent the last few months unable to walk properly. “You are of age, Miss Isabel. In truth, I have been thinking about this for a while now but decided it was best that I wait until I am physically capable of traveling to London for your debut.”
“How long?”
His brows dipped into a frown. “Pardon?”
“How long have you been thinking about it? Did it begin last month? Or was it the month before that?”
“I’ve been planning to have you come out since before I arrived at the manor.”
Isabel blew out a breath.
So, he had that plan all along and he stuck to it, no matter how close we have become?
“I didn’t know you were thinking this way, Your Grace,” she said, her voice sounding far away.
“Do you not want to?”
Slowly, she dragged her eyes up to his. She nearly said yes. She nearly told him that she wanted nothing more than to be with him. That, over the past months, she had fallen in love with him and had harbored hope that he had fallen in love with her as well.
But she didn’t want to face the reality that she was wrong so she only nodded and said, “If it is what you wish, Your Grace.”
She didn’t want to hear what he might say next. Any longer and her heart might be shattered to dust. She tried to keep her dignity, kept her chin jutted outwards as she battled with the shame and disappointment at the Duke becoming the person he was all along.
* * *
David hated himself for what he’d done.
He wasn’t fooling himself, though. He did what he had to. He chose between his heart and his duty and he chose right. Now that the physician confirmed that his leg had been fully healed, there was no use staying around the manor any longer. There was still business to take care of and Miss Isabel had to come out to the ton. She had to if she wanted to get married and recover her estates.
I want her to be mine, but I can’t have her.
But that wasn’t what made him hate himself. It was the way he’d gone about it. He should have been softer, kept himself from falling back into that person he’d been before. The shock and hurt that had rocked her body had nearly torn his heart in two, but it was already too late to stop. He’d already said the words, already drove home the knife.
Only then did he realize he had fallen for her.
The feeling rose throughout the months that transpired after the accident. Developing in many different ways, with an intensity that outweighed all his senses, he was surprised that he had the strength to do what he had to. And even though he wasn’t very sure if she liked him in the same manner, or if she was simply being the pure and wonderful lady she was, he only wanted to be in her presence.
He stood by the threshold to the study as he watched Thomas and the butler carry Miss Isabel’s things to the waiting carriage. She was also standing nearby, eyes on the luggage. They said nothing to each other all day. Even though she knew that Mr. Phillip had stopped by earlier this morning, she didn’t ask what he had said.
Well, seeing that I’m standing on my own two legs right now, I suppose she doesn’t have to ask.
Still, it would be nice to hear her voice. He’d like to have her say something to him, if only to appease his own guilt at what he’d done.
It was only two days after he’d announced his plan for her to go to London and they hadn’t exchanged many words since. She’d even claimed she was ill and had her meals in her room. He couldn’t blame her.
Lady Pemperton was already waiting in the carriage. Miss Isabel should be sitting with her but she was in the foyer instead, watching her luggage carried away piece by piece. It wasn’t much, since Lady Pemperton would be taking care of preparing her wardrobe for the Season.
When the last piece of luggage was carried away, David saw that his opportunity to hear her one last time was slipping away. In a couple of days, he would be off to France and he wouldn’t see her for a month. Perhaps that month would help him get over her. Perhaps he would only miss her more.
“Miss Isabel,” he called. She looked up at him. Her eyes were expressionless. Suddenly, he realized that he didn’t know what he wanted to say.
“You don’t have to say it, Your Grace,” she said softly. “I’ve enjoyed our time together these past few months and I hope you have as well. I will be looking forward to seeing you again.”
“It’ll be a month until we see each other next,” he said. He knew she knew that, but he didn’t want her to leave just yet.
“I am aware, Your Grace,” she said with a slow nod. “A month is no time at all, it seems.”
Without a goodbye, she left. David went up to the nearest window and watched as she got into one of the carriages to join Lady Pemperton. Soon, they were off and David was watching the dust cloud behind the carriage, rather than her.
It's my duty. I had to do it. I had no choice.
The late Duke and Duchess had charged him with the responsibility of caring for their ward. Isabel had estates in her name, that should be hers the moment she married or when she turned five-and-twenty. David couldn’t allow her to become a spinster merely because of his own attachment to her. She had to be married. It was a must.
But no matter how many times he told himself that, he wanted to take the words back. He didn’t want to leave. What he wanted was for them to be as they were when he had nowhere else to go and she had no other company but him.
She will marry another gentleman. I must get used to the idea of that happening.
He shook his head.
Easier said than done.
Chapter Eleven
The days after arriving in London were bleak and gray. It saddened Isabel to feel so empty. Leaving the manor in Brighton brought up too many memories she had worked hard to suppress.
But Isabel wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking that the change in scenery was the reason for her sadness. It was the mere fact that the Duke wasn’t with her. The happy friendship they had built up over time, had all been dashed within a matter of days.
No, not friendship. Love. I truly fell in love with him and it didn’t matter to him at all.
The thought sent a sharp knife through her chest, but Isabel refused to let it show. As she had been doing for the past few days since their arrival in London, Isabel straightened her back and put a smile on her face when needed. She didn’t need anyone knowing her sadness. The Marchioness, especially, didn’t need to know just how much she missed the Duke.
It was easier said than done, however. As excited as Isabel was for the upcoming ball when she would make her debut to society, Lady Pemperton was her usual sharp self and Isabel wasn’t in the mood for questions about how she fared.
“Oh, here it is!” Lady Pemperton squealed excitedly. Isabel sat up a bit more, dragging herself out of her thoughts.
Elisa came into the drawing room of the townhouse where they were staying, holding up a long, white gown. She walked gingerly, as if moving too quickly would attract dust to the shimmering beauty she held in her hands. Isabel was struck by how lovely it was and she hardly heard the Marchioness’ elation.
The gown was as beautiful as Lady Pemperton had gushingly predicted. It was a very fine muslin, with wonderful si
lk trimmings around the sleeves, the neckline low enough yet not improper. But what stood out to Isabel the most was the design of the gown—the cutaway silk that fell from her bosom down to the train. The muted French touch was outstanding.
“Oh heavens, Lady Pemperton,” Isabel gasped. She reached out to touch it, just to brush her fingers against the silk, before retracting her hand. “This is absolutely beautiful.”
“Isn’t it impressive?” Lady Pemperton enthused. “I thought the style would suit you, and make you stand out during your debut ball.”
“I surely think this is going to help considerably,” Isabel agreed. Elisa backed away and gently handed the gown over to another maid who was waiting idly by. Isabel watched her leave.
Daring Deeds 0f A Forbidden Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 7
