Chapter 19

CHAPTER19

“How many of those have you had?” Andrew’s question left Isabella stilling with the claret glass in her hand.

She’d only had two, but because of the lack of food, the wine was making her a little light in the head. Turning slowly round, she found her father standing beside her.

He’d dressed well for the night, and judging by the elder lady’s eyes that raked over him as she passed, he had already been up to his usual tricks of charming ladies. The duality between Andrew and Henry made Isabella abruptly nauseous. She placed her claret glass down on the table beside her.

At least Susan and Irene are having fun and do not have to put up with our father tonight.

She glanced quickly in their direction to see both of them dancing. Susan was dancing with an old friend of theirs, Sir Tobias Mayhew. The man seemed quite entranced by Susan’s company and was happily drawing her back to the dance floor for a second dance. Irene was dancing with her suitor, Jeremiah Puxton. The two looked at one another so intently that anyone who cared to glance their way would see the affection between them.

“Don’t Irene and Susan look happy, Father?” Isabella asked and pointed towards the dance floor, purposefully avoiding answering his question. He glanced their direction, his body stiffening with the movement. “How nice it is to see them have a choice in whom they dance with, whom they may even court.” She drove the point home, wanting her father to be as uncomfortable as possible, to know the misery he’d caused them. “I’m delighted for them.”

“Delighted, you say?” he scoffed and shook his head. “Few daughters would find delight in ruining their father.” She didn’t answer but turned to face the drinks table and refilled her glass. “How many of those have you had?”

“Desist with acting like a father now,” Isabella said darkly as he moved closer to her. “You do not get to act protective.”

“No? Perhaps I’ll just comment then that few happily married couples spend their evenings apart at balls such as this, with one drowning themselves in claret.”

“I am not drowning myself.” She looked sharply at her father, noting the way his nose curled in her direction. “Do you hate me, Father? You certainly look as if you do.”

“I was simply trying to understand you.” He shook his head in bemusement. “For a while, I thought I knew my daughter. Now, I’m beginning to think I do not know you at all.”

“That is where we differ.” She didn’t take a sip of her glass but held it in her hand between them as if it was some sort of weapon. “I never purported to know you well. Oh, I know of your character. I know you’d rather spend a night with a mistress than in the company of your daughters.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, but he looked around them all the same, clearly wary of them being overheard. “Yet, I never really knew what was in your heart. For instance… I have never known if you had any affection for Mother at all.”

The words made Lord Sinclair flinch. Abruptly, he moved again. He turned to the table and poured a glass of brandy for himself.

“How many of those have you had, Father?” she shot his words back at him.

Andrew downed his glass. “That is none of your business.”

“I guess I am just wondering what leads a man to be a rake,” Isabella said in a rush. “If you missed our mother, I could perhaps try to understand it then. Perhaps you’re trying to ignore your grief, but there’s something in my mind that suspects your behavior began long before she died. What sort of man does that, I wonder?”

Her father stilled and turned to face her completely, his lip curling in distaste.

“If you are despairing of what it is like to be married to a rake, then you should not have gotten yourself into a mess with the Duke of Sutterton in the first place.”

Andrew’s cruel retort had Isabella falling quiet. She no longer felt the desire to argue with her father and just wished to be away from him.

Turning her back on him, Isabella left the drinks table and stepped towards the ballroom, where she could glimpse the dancing taking place through a vast archway. Relieved to find her father did not follow her, she crept around the ballroom with her eyes on her sisters.

Seeing Susan and Irene so happy offered a little comfort, though her smile could not last for long. She tried to busy herself by looking at Irene’s happy face. Repeatedly, as Irene and her suitor left the dance floor did Jeremiah reach for her hand. He seemed to realize it was not appropriate when they weren’t officially courting, so he offered his arm instead, and she took it, smiling sweetly up at him.

They crossed the room together, and Jeremiah began to introduce Irene to those Isabella suspected were his family and friends. His eagerness to show her off to them had Isabella smiling once again.

She is falling in love, as he is with her. At least Irene will have the future that she truly deserves. She will be loved!

Then, Isabella’s eyes were drawn away by another. There was a round gentleman circling the dancers. He seemed to be searching for someone, turning his wide head back and forth.

“Oh, no,” Isabella muttered aloud.

Seeing Lord Pine’s face, she began to back up. At first, she presumed he would have long lost his interest in her. She was married now, so he could hardly continue to push her into dancing with him at events such as this.

Even as she reached the edge of the ballroom though, wishing she could disappear into the shadows between the standing candelabras, his gaze found hers. He smiled a little, his wide lips curling, then he began to walk towards her.

“God’s blood,” she muttered and stepped away. She turned sharply on her heel, intending to make her escape back to the other room when she found someone in her way. “Oh!” She nearly spilled her wine on him, but a hand came up around her own and stabilized her glass. “Henry?”

He was looking at her in surprise, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, at least I saved you from spilling wine on me this time,” he said, smirking.

At that moment, Isabella didn’t know what to think of him. Should she be happy he was being playful again? Or angry that he’d been so cold and distant all day?

She took the glass further back from him, forcing him to release it, then looked over her shoulder. Lord Pine was getting closer. He was even waving one of his hands in the air, trying to get her attention.

“Excuse me, Henry.”

“What? Where are you going?”

She walked around him, trying to escape the ballroom, but he followed her.

“Anywhere else,” she muttered and retreated into the supper room.

Going as far as the corner, Isabella placed her glass down on the table, deciding that maybe she’d had a little too much and relied too heavily on the claret after seeing Henry with Lady Hampton.

The thought of the two of them together had her glaring at him as he joined her by the table.

“I could have mistaken that look for one of hatred.” He raised his eyebrow, and she chose not to correct him. “Rather than ask you if it was, I’ll ask you something else entirely.” He pointed towards the archway that led into the room. “Who is that? He’s clearly following you.”

Isabella held her breath as her eyes sought out Lord Pine. He stood under the archway, turning his head back and forth as he looked for her.

“Lord Pine,” she said in a rush, then turned her back to the archway in the ridiculous hope that Lord Pine would not recognize her across the room.

“Lord Pine?” Henry repeated, looking at the gentleman in question. “I have heard the name before. I do not think I have been introduced to him.”

“Then count your blessings.” Isabella pushed the glass away and flattened one hand on the table, keeping herself standing upright.

“He’s coming this way.”

“Damn,” Isabella muttered, rounding the table.

Henry followed her, and she now had two men trailing after her.

“Bella, what on earth is going on?” he asked. The two of them came to a stop at the back of the table, flanked by a pillar and a standing candelabra. In this position, it was more difficult for Lord Pine to follow them, as there was not much room on this side of the table. “Why is he following you?”

“He has a habit of doing that.”

“I beg your pardon?” Henry frowned.

“He was the one I was running away from that night I stumbled upon you in the garden.” The moment the words were out of her lips, Isabella wondered why she had said them. She supposed it was the liquor loosening her tongue. She moved her hands to her hips restlessly, glanced in Lord Pine’s direction, then returned her eyes to Henry. “You could say he is persistent.”

“Truly?” Henry looked at Lord Pine again, his expression darkening.

“What? What does that look mean?” Isabella raised her hand and pointed at Henry’s face.

“What look?” Yet, he didn’t once turn back to look at her. He kept that glare firmly in Lord Pine’s direction.

“The one that suggests you would rather throw something at Lord Pine’s face than talk with him.”

“Hmm, it seems you know me well already, wife.” The way he addressed her as his wife had her spine stiffening.

“How amusing. I could have sworn you had forgotten my position this evening.”

“What does that mean?” he asked tartly, returning his gaze.

“Wife,” she reiterated. “Lady Hampton was most eager to talk to you, was she not?”

Henry’s brows furrowed.

“You clearly can’t trust me, can you?”

“Coming from the man who straight after our wedding ceremony declared he intended to keep his mistresses,” she shot back.

His lips flattened together, but he did not argue. He continued to stare at her.

“Your Grace? Your Grace?” Lord Pine was calling to Isabella.

Now, realizing there was no way she could avoid Lord Pine, she slowly stepped out from behind the table. She moved towards him and smiled a little.

The thought of dancing with him had always repulsed her, but not at that moment. Suddenly, she saw an opportunity. She had been forced to put up with watching Henry with one of the ladies he had bedded twice. There was something intensely tempting about giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She curtsied, then said, “Lord Pine, how are you? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you.”

“I am delighted to see you again.” Lord Pine bowed deeply. “I understand I must congratulate you on your marriage to the Duke of Sutterton.” He continued to smile sweetly, despite his words, and even nodded his head in the direction of the Duke.

Isabella followed that look to see Henry had kept his place behind the table. He was leaning against the wall behind him with one palm flat against it, and he seemed to be breathing heavily as he stared at Isabella.

“Thank you for your kindness.” Isabella shifted her focus back to Lord Pine.

“He has a strong stare, does he not?” Lord Pine asked with a laugh, yet he pulled at the collar of his shirt, evidently feeling it was suddenly a little tight.

“Indeed, he does.”

An image flashed in Isabella’s mind. It was not of Henry’s stare now, but of the way he had stared at her last night as he had pleasured her.

That look gave me such a thrill…

“Anyway, do not let my husband’s unpleasant stare bother you,” she said.

She adopted a sweeter countenance than she normally would do with him. Already, he was moving uncomfortably towards her, reminding her of why she disliked him so much. The man seemed to have little awareness of politeness and people’s boundaries.

“How are you, Lord Pine?”

“I am well and am eager to dance tonight. Of course, I am longing for a good dance partner.” He bent towards her.

At that movement, with him coming so close, Isabella couldn’t resist letting her eyes wander Henry’s way. His eyebrows had shot up so much at that closeness that they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“I know it is perhaps not the done thing for me to ask you for a dance tonight after you are so recently married, but nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your dance partner tonight.” Lord Pine moved back a little. “If you would oblige me.” He held his hand out to her.

Isabella hesitated. Her body rejected the idea at once. The last time she had felt pressured into dancing with the man, his hands had wandered. She had thanked her good fortune that no one had seen it, as the dance floor was too crowded, otherwise, by now, she could have found herself forced into a rather hasty marriage.

Another hasty marriage, but not with Henry.

The memory of seeing Henry with Lady Hampton that evening had her react quickly.

“I’d be delighted to accompany you in a dance, Lord Pine.”

She took his proffered hand toward. His jowls shuddered as he smiled, clearly thrilled. As his eyes wandered down her dress, Isabella felt a little sick, so much so that she had to remind herself she was doing this for a reason.

Let Henry know how it feels!

“I believe a waltz is the next number,” Lord Pine said and stepped away, clearly intending to escort her to the ballroom, ready for the waltz.

Isabella didn’t step forwards to follow at first. She was too busy fearing where his hands would wander, against her will.

“Apologies for the intrusion.” Henry’s voice was suddenly there. Isabella jerked back as he stepped between the two of them, pointedly separating them. All the Duke had to do for Lord Pine to release her was glare down at his hand. “I cannot let you dance with my wife, Lord Pine. I forbid it.”

“Forbid it?” Isabella murmured in shock.

“Yes,” Henry said simply, showing no awareness at all of her heavy glare on his back.

He thinks he controls me now! I cannot let this happen…