The Wrong Woman (Unexpected Love #1)

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The Wrong Woman (Unexpected Love #1) Page 6

by Kimberly Truesdale


  “Isobel and Catherine Masters.”

  “The Misses Masters?” Riley, who made up the fourth at the card table, slurred. Miles was glad he was on the other side of the table from him or he might have gotten a good shower of spittle from his friend.

  “Isobel Masters? You mean, Dizzy Izzy?” Blume seemed unable to grasp the idea that Miles had been with the woman all evening.

  “Dizzy Izzy?” Riley and Tremain chimed in.

  “Yes,” Miles nodded, “and her sister, Catherine.”

  “That's who you were with this evening?” Riley asked.

  Miles was growing impatient of the repetitive questioning. Maybe if he was drunk, too, the conversation would seem more productive, but as it was, he was only growing frustrated.

  “Yes,” he hissed and then spoke slowly. “I was with Isobel and Catherine Masters at Mrs. Starr's musicale. We have established this fact. Let us move on.”

  “Why would you spend time with Dizzy Izzy?” Blume asked him, contempt in his voice.

  Before Miles could offer an explanation, Jack piped up, “Because Miles is going to marry her sister.”

  The other three sat stunned.

  “Finally getting leg-shackled, old boy?” Tremain raised his glass. “Welcome to our miserable club!” Miles decided not to mention his exchange with Mrs. Tremain.

  Riley leaned over the table. “Good on you. It's about time.”

  “This from a man not yet married himself!” Blume protested.

  “Gentlemen,” Miles pulled up a chair from one of the other tables as he spoke. “Let us forget about my marriage prospects and play some cards.”

  “No,” Riley said, leaning back heavily in his chair. “I refuse to play cards with you until you are as foxed as I am.”

  “I could never aspire to that level of drunkenness,” Miles rejoined, sending the table off into loud guffaws.

  Even Riley laughed at the joke. “You might try to aspire to it, especially if you are about to have such a fat cow as Dizzy Izzy for a sister-in-law. You'll need all the alcohol you can get.”

  “Here, here!” Blume and Tremain raised their glasses at that.

  The words hit him like a blow to the chest. The anger forced all the breath out of his body. He'd just listened to Mrs. Tremain insult his bride-to-be and her sister. And now this.

  Before Miles could act, Jack stood up angrily at his place. “Hey, that is no way to talk about my friend! Take it back now!”

  “Your friend?” Blume was puzzled.

  “Yes, Miss Masters is my friend. So I'll thank you to take back your disgusting comment about her.”

  “But, dear chappie, it's entirely true! Why would I take it back?” Riley asked, sobered and a little bit astonished by the sudden anger.

  “Because I'll beat your face in if you don't,” Jack growled.

  Miles rose out of his chair, he did not know whether it was to defend his brother from his friends or the other way around.

  “Do it now. Apologize.” Jack leaned over the table toward Riley, knocking cards and glasses out of the way in the process.

  Riley stood up. “No.”

  Miles did not see this ending well. He began to tug at his brother's shoulders. “Come on, Jack. Let's go home. It's late and you've been drinking.”

  Jack growled one more time at Riley and then backed out of the room. Miles saw the other three visibly relax as they left. When they were out in the street, Jack slumped against him.

  “Miles?” Jack lifted his head up and looked at his older brother.

  “Yes, Jack?”

  “Do you like Miss Isobel?”

  Miles remained silent, unsure how to answer.

  Jack pressed him. “Why didn't you stand up for our friend?”

  Silence still.

  “Of course you like her.” Jack answered his own question. “She is a good sort. A very good sort. Not what they said about her.”

  Jack stayed silent as they stumbled together down the street.

  Why didn't I say anything? Why did Jack speak up so vehemently in defense of a friend and I was unable to utter even one word in her defense?

  Because he was afraid of their ridicule. Because they expected him to laugh at her. I am just as guilty as they are. He thought of every stupid thing he'd ever called Isobel Masters behind her back. For ten years they'd been picking at her, calling her names like the one they used tonight and Miles had never thought twice about the real person. They’d thought they knew all they needed to about her.

  It had taken Jack to finally stand up and call them all on their rude behavior, including Miles. Jack with his kind and loyal heart. If Jack hadn't been there tonight, would Miles have said anything? He was ashamed to think that he would have laughed it off and gone on his way, that he would not have defended her.

  When the brothers finally stumbled up the stairs to their beds, it was early morning. Miles stayed awake for hours replaying all that had happened that evening. He did not know what to make of his rediscovered conscience and the fact that his chest ached with more than just the exercise of his earlier laughter.

  Chapter 9

  In the early hours of the morning, before the household had started its day, Cat tiptoed to Aunt Hetty’s bedroom and gave a soft knock. She knew her aunt was used to rising earlier than the rest of the household, but Cat remained wary of disturbing the peaceful silence.

  “Enter,” came a quiet voice from inside the room. Cat opened the door and saw Aunt Hetty sitting in bed with her knees drawn up and a large book open in her lap.

  “Aunt Hetty?” Cat whispered, still mindful of the early morning stillness.

  “Cat? What are you doing up at this hour after your late night last night?” Aunt Hetty looked over her glasses at her niece.

  “May I speak to you about something?”

  “Of course, child, come in.” Aunt Hetty lifted her covers and beckoned Cat in. “Wiggle in here and tell me what it is.”

  Cat made herself comfortable in the warm bed as she thought about how to speak to her aunt.

  “I don’t really know how to say.”

  “Hmmm…” Aunt Hetty mused. “Does it have to do with Lord Revere?”

  Cat nodded.

  “I suspected as much. What about him?”

  Cat was careful with her words. “How should I know if I love him?”

  Aunt Hetty chuckled and put her arms about her niece. “I’m not sure you should ask your spinster aunt about love. I hardly know what to answer.”

  “Did you never love someone in your life, aunt?”

  “It was a very long time ago.”

  “But you did love. What was it like?”

  “Oh,” sighed Aunt Hetty. “Wonderful and frightening and maddening. When I was with him, everything was right in the world. But when we were apart, I hated it. Everything was wrong.”

  “That’s what I had imagined love would be. Like in stories.”

  “But life is not always like a story, my dear,” Aunt Hetty laughed.

  “Not even if I want it to be? I want love to be like what you said.”

  “And with Lord Revere? What do you feel?”

  Cat considered. “He is… pleasant. And handsome.” Aunt Hetty waited for her to continue. “But I feel no strong emotion about him one way or the other. And I do not think he feels so much about me.”

  “Be careful of assuming what he feels,” Aunt Hetty counseled. “Lord Revere is a very reserved man.”

  “I guess I hoped for something grander when it comes to love,” Cat sighed.

  Aunt Hetty smiled at her. “That is all right to hope for, my dear girl. But you must also remember to be somewhat practical about it. Lord Revere would be a very good match for you.”

  “I suppose,” Cat knew her suitor would please society and her mama. But she did not know if Lord Revere would please her. “I wish he’d show some feeling, though, like he did last night with Izzy.” Cat stopped, her eyes growing wide. “Aunt,” she gripped Aunt He
tty’s hands, “do you suppose…?”

  “What?” Her aunt exclaimed.

  Cat was distracted by her thoughts and did not answer for a few agonizing moments. Her mind worked quickly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Of course… it must be!

  “Aunt, how does one tell a gentleman that he is courting the wrong woman?”

  Aunt Hetty sat up straight and looked carefully at her niece. “What on earth do you mean, Cat?”

  “Izzy! Don’t you see!”

  “I must confess that I do not quite follow you.”

  “She made him laugh. And though she says she hates him, she has been changing her mind, I think.”

  “Catherine Masters, I think I see what is in your mind. And I must counsel you against it. You must be careful. Isobel guards her heart well. You may not know what is in it.

  “She is my sister, aunt. I think I know her. And I can see now that she is acting like a child. And he is too. They pick at each other to avoid having to say anything real about their feelings.”

  “That is a great insight into both people. But it does not mean that they belong together. It is not quite as simple as all that.”

  “I see,” Cat begrudged her aunt that point, though she did not want to give up entirely on her idea. “Izzy was not happy at all the first times he called here. But when I asked her to try and like him for my sake, she did try very hard. And I think she has found that she does like him in spite of herself.”

  “You may be right,” Aunt Hetty conceded. “And perhaps Lord Revere is softening toward her. I did hear about last evening.”

  “Aunt, what do you know?”

  A smile crossed Aunt Hetty's face. “Walls have ears, my dear. And the walls reported to me that there was quite a bit of laughter emanating from the front parlor last night while two certain parties awaited your arrival.”

  “It's true. When I came downstairs, I hardly knew where I was! Izzy was laughing like she does at home. But even more surprising to me was that Lord Revere was practically doubled over with laughter. I had never expected such a thing from him. He seemed nice enough, but always at a distance, like he knew the right thing to do and did it, but wasn't really attached to his actions.”

  “And what of the musicale last evening? What happened there?”

  “Oh, it was glorious, Aunt Hetty,” Cat sighed at the memories. “The music was so beautiful. The soprano made me and Izzy weep with her lovely voice. And Lord Revere did not even laugh at us! In fact, I think he paid more attention during the second half after he saw our raptures over the singer.”

  “And he was so kind to Izzy, aunt! When she walked confidently into that room full of people, they looked at her like she was a new person! And it was all down to Lord Revere, I am sure! He did look quite proud of her, actually.”

  “Hmmm,” her aunt mused. “And if Lord Revere transferred his affections to your sister, you would not be jealous?”

  “I do like the attention, of course. But if Izzy had a chance to love, I think I would do anything for her. I think I should be very happy to see that. I do not love him like a heroine loves her hero. And I think I am too young to give up on the idea of marrying a man who thrills me.”

  “Be careful, my dear Cat,” Aunt Hetty smiled sadly. “I have spent my life waiting for my storybook hero to arrive.”

  “May I stay with you until we both find our princes?”

  “Of course, my love. What do you think Izzy has been doing all these years?”

  Cat laughed.

  “You think I am joking,” Aunt Hetty spoke seriously. “Your sister has tried to hide herself away from the world. Oh, not by becoming a recluse or joining a convent. But she has tried to hide herself in the chaperone's corner, to be invisible because it is too painful for her to be visible. She is like Lord Revere in that way, in truth.” The last was spoken almost to herself.

  Cat was confused. “What do you mean? Lord Revere doesn't hide in corners like Izzy does.”

  “No, I consider him to be even worse than Isobel. Lord Revere hides in plain sight, my dear. He is very good at playing the gentleman, but there is little emotion in his performance, as you have observed.” Aunt Hetty paused, thinking. Cat saw a gleam come into her eye as a sly smile crept across her face. “Which makes it all the more interesting that he was laughing so heartily with your sister last night, don’t you think? I assume he has not done so with you?” Cat shook her head. “I think he has hidden his caring away deep inside of himself. Tragedy will do that to a man, especially with friends like his.”

  “Tragedy?” Cat was intrigued. But Aunt Hetty did not elaborate. “Aunt Hetty, the more we talk, the more I am convinced that Lord Revere does not need to marry me at all. He needs to marry Izzy!”

  “Steady, child. Do not get overexcited by this idea.”

  “But aunt,” Cat sat straight up in the bed, disturbing the blankets Aunt Hetty had tucked around them, “how can we get them to know that they are meant for each other?”

  “Patience, my dear,” Aunt Hetty laughed. “They are two very cautious people. We cannot interfere too much or they will suspect something of us. It must grow naturally between them, if it is to grow at all. And I have my doubts about that.”

  “We must make it grow!” Cat declared.

  “They are two stubborn people who will not be told what to think or feel. They are both guarded, wounded. Life has not been quite fair to either of them, but they do their best. We cannot tell them who to love, even though we might want it to happen. They absolutely must discover it for themselves.”

  “So you think they should fall in love, too?”

  “Well,” Aunt Hetty’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It would not be the end of the world…”

  “I don't think I can bear to wait for Izzy to realize that she likes him.” Cat flopped theatrically back onto the pillows. “I want her to be happy now. There is not much time left before we go home for the year, though.” A note of anxiety crept into her voice.

  “Well, though we must be careful about it, I think some gentle nudging might be in order.”

  “Yes, please, aunt!” Cat clapped her hands in excitement. “What do you have in mind?”

  Chapter 10

  Two afternoons after her triumph at Mrs. Starr’s, Isobel came bursting into the front parlor. She spoke quickly, a little out of breath.

  “It is quite unaccountable, Lord Revere. My sister is normally the very picture of robust young womanhood. But she declares to me that she is out of health and cannot accompany you today. I am sorry. I know you had prepared something special for her and she was very much looking forward to it.”

  Lord Revere had risen at her entrance and now stood silently in the middle of the room. A soft grunt was his only response to her hurried speech. After a pause, in which he remained silent, Isobel continued on nervously.

  “So… I am sorry, but I believe we shall have to postpone until another day. I know that my sister will be disappointed to miss such a special treat.” Isobel did her best to smile at the scowling man in front of her.

  He still gave no answer. Isobel grew wary. This was the Lord Revere she’d known for ten years, not the man she had met the other evening, the one who had laughed with her and helped her overcome her anxiety. All the comradeship they'd built up over the escapade at the musicale seemed to have been forgotten.

  “So...” Isobel began, wanting only to break the growing silence. “If you would like to call again tomorrow, I'm sure Cat will be better and we might reschedule our outing.”

  “We might,” he said, still no expression on his face.

  Isobel nodded and smiled nervously. What is he waiting for? Can he not just go?

  Finally, he bowed his head slightly to her and moved toward the door. Isobel almost sighed aloud with relief.

  “Miss Masters?” The sigh stopped in her throat.

  “Yes?” She turned toward where he stood just inside the doorway.

  Lord Revere looked
into her face and then quickly looked at the floor. “Would you be amenable to accompanying me today, even without your sister?”

  Her face must have given away her surprise because he continued on, stuttering over his words. “It is not that I wish to be insensitive to her condition – and I do hope that she will be well soon – but… I… I have arranged this viewing specially for us today. A friend hosts a private collection of artworks and… and… he has agreed to let us peruse it this afternoon. It would be a…a… shame to waste the opportunity, I think.” Lord Revere gave her what she thought was intended to be a smile, but looked more like he had crushed his fingers in the door and was trying not to cry.

  “Well, I…” Isobel stumbled over her answer, unsure how to respond to this odd proposition. “I…uh…I would be loath to leave my sister if she needs me.” Isobel was relieved at finding an excuse.

  “Oh,” he nodded. “Of… of course. I only thought… I’m sorry.” He turned to go.

  It was a strange speech and had taken Isobel by surprise. Still, she felt some sympathy for the man who was clearly out of his depth in this situation.

  “I…I guess I could ask Cat?” Her sister would give her the final excuse, then maybe Isobel would not feel so guilty about turning him down.

  “Would you?”

  Isobel nodded and left the room, stepping awkwardly around him as she reached the door.

  She climbed the stairs to her sister’s room, puzzling over the unexpected invitation. An afternoon alone with Lord Revere? It was not high on her list of delightful entertainments. Isobel knocked quietly on Cat’s bedroom door and went in. The room was dark except for a tiny sliver of light that showed through the curtains.

  “Cat?”

  “Yes, Isobel?” Her sister's voice came weakly from the bed.

  “How are you feeling, darling?” Isobel knelt by the side of the bed and took her sister's hand.

  “I will be all right, I think. I just need some rest today.” Cat smiled weakly at her sister. “Has Lord Revere gone? I hope he was not too disappointed.”

  “Actually, my dear, he is still downstairs.”

  “Oh?” Isobel felt Cat stir as if trying to sit up in bed.

 

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