“I look forward to it, My Lord.”
Lord d’Ylles paid his respects to Lady Pemperton, who didn’t bother to hide the appreciative glint in her eyes as he walked away. Isabel knew that once they were alone and on their way home, she would pester her on details about their dance. Clearly, it had been much different than all the others.
“Is there anything you know about the Count, Lady Pemperton?” she asked. She watched him from afar, hoping he wouldn’t turn to see her staring. He looked just as amicable around his friends—or were they family members?—as he was while they danced.
“Nothing but his name, my dear,” Lady Pemperton said. “But I’m sure there is someone around here who does. Let me ask around.”
Without giving Isabel the chance to respond, Lady Pemperton gestured for her to follow her. She led the way up to a group of matrons, who had been talking to Lady Pemperton while Isabel danced.
“Ladies, do any of you know the tall gentleman over there?” Lady Pemperton asked, effectively cutting in the conversation they were having.
Each of them, mature and done up in their own way, looked in the direction of Lady Pemperton’s pointing fan. As if the crowd parted for them to see, Lord d’Ylles stood out amongst the mass of people.
“I know him,” said one of the ladies who stood to the back of the group. Isabel vaguely remembered her to be the Baroness of Adentam, a short, busty lady. “He’s the only son of a French Count. Apparently, he has inherited great land from his late father.”
“And his mother?” Isabel spoke up. “I believe she’s an English lady?”
The Baroness nodded. “She was the daughter of a baron but she passed away when the current Lord d’Ylles was still young. I believe he travels back and forth between England and France, but now it seems he’s looking to settle down with someone.”
“It also looks like he has taken quite a liking to you, Miss Isabel,” said another one of the ladies. “I haven’t seen him dance with anyone else all night.”
How unsurprising, since these ladies did nothing but stand around and watch who was dancing with who. She had a sneaking suspicion that not all of them had a daughter or ward here. “I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I am also French,” Isabel said, unable to take her eyes off the Count.
“How interesting is that,” said the Baroness in a musing tone. “You two both share similar backgrounds. A mix of both England and France. Perhaps that’s why he’s so interested in you.”
That could also be it. She cocked her head to the side, her curiosity about this gentleman growing deeper the longer she looked at him. He stood at the opposite end of the room, looking uninterested with the dancing but eager to continue a conversation with the gentleman at his side. She didn’t recognize who his friend was.
If the Duke sees me with such a handsome gentleman, will he get jealous?
Excitement thrummed through her. She could picture it already, the cracks in the Duke’s mask when he saw such a gentleman like the Count expressing his interest in her.
A little jealousy might help him see what has been in front of him all along. It’s worth a try.
She ignored the inner thought that she shouldn’t stoop to such lows. She should hold on to her pride and not use someone else in her quest to make the Duke fall for her. But at this point, she didn’t know how else she could get his attention. It was as if the moment he could stand on two feet again, he no longer saw her.
Someone brushed past her. She paid it no mind, but then, all of a sudden, something was being shoved into her hand. Alarmed, she looked down to see that it was a piece of crumpled paper.
She turned to see who it was and caught sight of a quickly retreating body. As soon as she laid eyes on him—or her—the crowd of people swallowed them up and out of sight.
Frowning, she looked back down at the paper and slowly opened it up. She froze.
If you want to know the truth about your parents meet me at Hyde Park tomorrow at noon. Don’t tell anybody else.
Breath whooshed out of her lungs. The room tilted and when she swayed, she bumped into Lady Pemperton.
“Miss Isabel?” Lady Pemperton’s voice sounded so far away. Isabel couldn’t take her eyes off the paper, couldn’t find her voice to tell her that something was wrong. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
She couldn’t say. With her lungs growing tight, she couldn’t even breathe. She grasped Lady Pemperton’s hand out of desperation and the other lady got into action. She slipped an arm around Isabel’s waist and led her out of the ballroom.
The fresh breeze of the night air hit her hard. Isabel tried to focus, to put one foot before the other, even as her loud thoughts battled for control, fast forming a headache.
She didn’t know where Lady Pemperton was leading her until they came to a stop. She could vaguely make out the smell of flowers and she let the scent soothe her, let the comforting feel of Lady Pemperton’s hands around hers calm her down.
“It’s all right,” Lady Pemperton soothed softly. “Everything is fine.”
Isabel took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me.”
“That’s simple, child. You were just in shock. Now, tell me what’s gotten you so worked up.”
Isabel handed over the paper. She watched Lady Pemperton, gauging her reaction as she read. “Who gave this to you?” Lady Pemperton asked.
“I don’t know,” Isabel whispered. Her heart was still pounding, not yet settled. “By the time I turned around, they were already gone.”
“Well, then.” She was thinking hard. Isabel let her. The pain in her head kept her from doing any thinking herself. “There are so many people here that it’ll be impossible to try and find who gave you this. We should leave.”
“So soon?”
“You’ve already made your debut and I’m sure many of the people in attendance won’t forget you. There’s no use staying here any longer. Especially not after this.” Lady Pemperton grasped her hand once more. “Come, let’s depart.”
Isabel allowed herself to be led. That was all she had done since her arrival, being led around by people, but this time she didn’t mind. She braced herself before reentering the ballroom, trying to keep from trying to spot the person responsible. Whoever it was, they were long gone.
Thankfully, they weren’t stopped on their way out and made it to the carriage in good time. Lady Pemperton made sure Isabel was seated first before she got in. They said nothing to each other, not until the Hallinton’s ball was far behind them.
“Should I leave London?” Isabel whispered into the small space.
“Absolutely not,” Lady Pemperton said strongly. “For all we know, it could be a rival family who’s jealous of the impression you made tonight. We won’t rise to the bait.”
Isabel said nothing, relief flooding her. If Lady Pemperton was right, then that family didn’t know just how terrible an effect those words would have on her. They didn’t know all the bad memories they just brought back.
If they knew that her parents had been killed in such a horrendous way, then they were horrible people for attempting to exploit her pain.
Chapter Fifteen
“Miss Isabel? Count d’Ylles has come to call on you.”
Isabel nodded at the butler. She had been expecting the Count’s arrival. After last night, he didn’t strike her to be the type of gentleman who would say one thing and do another, but she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to see him.
Despite sleeping away the apprehension following the handwritten note, she still woke this morning feeling on edge. She couldn’t let go of the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Someone in London was privy to the horrible death of her parents and had tried to use it to meet with her. The fact that she didn’t know what that person’s intentions were made her nervous.
Is someone attempting to harm me in some way?
She shook the thought away. There was no use thinking about that now, espec
ially since she had spent all morning doing exactly that. She didn’t want the Count seeing that she was disturbed.
She was sitting alone in the drawing room, trying to focus on the book in her hand when the butler made his announcement. Now, Lord d’Ylles came striding into the room, effectively filling the atmosphere with his presence. Unlike last night, he greeted her with a broad smile and she curtsied to him.
“My Lord,” she said, glad that she sounded all right. “I see you do not disappoint.”
“If I were to do that, Miss Isabel,” said the Count. “I might lose what little interest you have for me. And I’d hate for that to happen.”
So soon with the flirtatious jokes.
It didn’t make her as uncomfortable as she thought it would. In fact, she felt a little more at ease.
She gestured with a hand to sit in the very center of the room, Elisa shadowing her. Isabel had informed Elisa of what happened last night and as a result, her lady’s maid kept a close eye on her in case she grew frazzled once more. The Count’s presence didn’t lessen her watch.
“How do you fare, Miss Isabel?” asked the Count as he got settled in.
“I am well, My Lord,” Isabel responded. “And I’m better now that you’re here.”
The Count’s dark brows shot high. Isabel was surprised herself at her bold statement. “Is that so? Then perhaps I should have called on you earlier. Or better yet, should I take that as an invitation to call on you more often?”
“I believe that is a judgment call, My Lord, based on today.”
The Count chuckled just as tea was brought in. “Why do I get the feeling I am being tested?”
“Maybe you are.”
“And will I know if I pass?”
“You won’t have to question it if you do.”
The Count’s laughter filled the room, with Isabel’s own as an undertone. She did feel comfortable around him. He had an easygoing presence that served to put her at ease and forget about all the things that had worried her previously.
The Duke, however, could never leave her mind.
As a matter of fact, as if in response to the Count’s presence, Isabel found it difficult to keep herself from thinking about the Duke. Every time the Count laughed, she was reminded of the Duke’s laugh—of how deep and filling it was. Every time they passed a joke on to the other, she would think of how she used to joke so easily with the Duke before she was sent off to London. Nothing the Count did stood out to her, because every move he made and every word he said reminded her of who she really wanted.
However, she managed to stay focused well enough to enjoy her time with the Count. His easy banter and his comfortable presence made her relax, and though the Duke was always lingering in the back of her mind, Isabel thoroughly enjoyed having tea with him.
She didn’t know how much time passed. When he looked to be getting up to leave, it felt like he had been there for no time at all.
“I fear it’s time I take my leave, Miss Isabel,” he said, his tone laced with regret.
She felt that same regret inside her. She didn’t want him. Not like she wanted the Duke. But she could see having an easy friendship with the Count and she was sad to see him go so soon.
She hid the disappointment and nodded. “I understand, My Lord. Allow me to see you out.”
She fell into step with the Count as they made their way to the front doors. She could feel his gaze on her, little glances here and there. It didn’t bother her quite as much as she thought it would. Unsurprisingly, it reminded her of the way the Duke himself would stare at her when he thought she wasn’t aware.
“I enjoyed myself, My Lord. It would be lovely if you called on me again.”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to keep me away from here, Miss Isabel. Your poor butler would have to chase me away with a stick.”
Isabel held back her giggle—heaven knows she’d been laughing much too frequently already—and said, “You should try it, My Lord. I think that’s a sight I would love to see. I haven’t had a good laugh in ages.”
“If that’s what it takes to make you fall for me, Miss Isabel, then endure that horrendous embarrassment I shall. Until tomorrow.”
“Yes, My Lord, until tomorrow.”
She watched him as he left and when the doors were closed, she ventured to the closest window and watch his carriage pull away. Now that he was gone, Isabel allowed herself to think again.
She liked him. He was indeed an enjoyable person to talk to. But Isabel didn’t think she could marry someone simply because they were amusing. She wanted true feelings to be involved, and those feelings were reserved for one person only.
But what if he never feels the same way? I can’t ever tell with him and surely I can’t spend the rest of the Season pining for someone who won’t even look twice at me.
As sad as it made her, she knew how true it was. She was here to find a good match. If the Duke didn’t feel for her the way she felt for him, then perhaps she should look to the next best thing.
She was unsurprised to find that the very thought of that made her want to crawl into bed for the rest of the day.
Chapter Sixteen
Nearly three weeks ago, David found himself in this very same position—on his way to see the lady he couldn’t get out of his mind. At that time, he and been struck by how much she changed while they were apart, how wonderfully mature she had become. Now, he wondered if he would arrive to see the same thing.
The epidemic in Blackpool should have taken up all his attention, and for the most part it did, but he was unsurprised to find that, at the back of his mind, he was always thinking about Miss Isabel.
Her debut was the evening he left. Did she make a good impression? Did she dance much? Were a lot of gentlemen vying for her attention?
Jealousy rocked him hard and fast at the image of her with another gentleman but he schooled his features into normalcy.
Remember, this is what I wanted. It’s about time I got used to the idea of her in the arms of another man—
He banished the thought as soon as it came. Yes, he would have to get used to the idea. But he didn’t have to do it now. Right now, he would focus on their reunion.
“Your Grace!”
David jumped at the sound of her voice. He had just barely set foot inside the townhouse when she rounded the corner, looking as if she was about to head up the stairs. She looked just as surprised to see him, her perfect lips parted.
Quickly, she hurried over to him. She looked the same—a beautiful, vibrant lady with inquisitive eyes and a tantalizing smell. He clenched his hands into a fist.
“How are you here so early?” she asked, a little breathless from her little run over to him. “In your letter, you said you would arrive much later. If I had known, I would have prepared for you.”
“Prepared? In what way?”
“I… I don’t know.” Her excited surprise fading, Isabel stepped back. He longed to pull her back closer to him. They were alone, save for James and Elisa.
Would it be so bad for me to hug my ward?
He decided not to risk it.
As if they could sense his presence, Lord and Lady Pemperton emerged from around the corner, both their faces alight with surprise at the sight of him.
“Your Grace!” Lord Pemperton exclaimed. “You came earlier than we expected.”
“We weren’t expecting you until much later this evening,” Lady Pemperton said, coming to Miss Isabel’s side. “If we had, we would have been more prepared for your arrival.”
“Not to worry,” he said, trying to sound amicable. He was well aware of how cold he had been when he last returned, and even though he was simply trying to keep himself from showing Isabel something he shouldn’t, he knew how much it hurt her. It was quite unlike the routine they had built up while his broken leg was healing. “I had wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, I certainly am shocked to see you here now. Did everything go well in Blackpool?�
�� Lord Pemperton asked.
“The epidemic didn’t spread to the estate, thankfully, so everything was in order. My apologies for taking so long to come back. I had to make sure that nothing was amiss before I left.”
“I completely understand, Your Grace,” said Lady Pemperton. “And you needn’t worry. Everything went well in your absence.”
“Is that so? Well then, why don’t we prepare for an early dinner? That way I can get a good understanding of Isabel’s debut.”
And I can learn if you’ve already attracted suitors. Who am I fooling, though? There is no way she wouldn’t have.
Daring Deeds 0f A Forbidden Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 10
